CHAPTER 52 | CURIOUSER AND CURIOUSER
MAIA felt like she had to drag herself to Maester Wolkan's office the next day. She had been worried lately – for lack of a better word – about not just her pregnancy, or her secrets, but also for her symptoms.
Maia finally convinced herself to visit the maester after nearly doubling over in pain that morning. She had been teaching the smallfolk boys on how to ready an arrow on their bows with Tormund, but she suddenly felt an increase amount of pain in her lower abdomen. Her hand, which laid on a boy's shoulder as she instructed him, quickly slipped off, and she kneeled on the ground, crossing her arms over her stomach.
Tormund ran over to her to aid. He helped her stand, asking, "You alright, Sanders?"
Maia then gripped Tormund's shoulder tightly. She shook her head as she winced. "I ... I think I must see Maester Wolkan."
"Well, get on over there." The wildling laughed, hoping to lighten her spirits. "I'll be fine teaching these boys without you."
She nodded quickly, and that was how she now ended up sitting in Maester Wolkan's office, laying her head near the windowsill. The maester sat his quill down on his desk before turning to her in his stool. He cleared his throat, "Have you made a decision yet, Lady Maia?"
"No," she answered truthfully, "that's not what I'm here for."
"So you've told His Grace?"
"No, please, let me finish," Maia quipped, clearly agitated. She instantly felt bad for interrupting the maester. "I don't know what's going on with me, Maester Wolkan. I've never been with child before, but my symptoms are confusing me."
Maester Wolkan stood to pick up a book from his shelf. Maia didn't look to check for a title, but she watched him flip to a certain page he wanted. "Continue, my lady."
"I realize that morning sickness is normal; I just think there's an insufferable amount of it. I also haven't drank, because I've been told it hurts a pregnancy. This doesn't mean I've made my decision yet," she quickly added. "But ... my breasts aren't ... tender, I guess. I think they're supposed to be. I've also been having some pain lately in my abdomen. Are these normal?"
"Well," the maester sighed, using his finger to skim down the page, "from my research, there isn't any of that listed here. So, that doesn't mean those symptoms aren't normal; they've just been unheard of."
Maia's brow creased. "Is my unborn child the Devil or something?"
He shook his head, not understanding her joke. Maia bit her lip and latched her fingers together. The maester turned to her again, noticing her look of worry. "You must make a decision on the moon tea soon, Lady Maia. We're running out of time."
"I know," Maia replied, shaking her legs absentmindedly.
"Weren't you invited to Dragonstone with His Grace to treat with the Targaryen woman?"
She nodded her head.
"Neither of us know how long you will be there, and I hardly doubt a maester at Dragonstone who hasn't been recording all your symptoms and pregnancy will give you moon tea. If you wish to not have this child, you must make the decision before you go – if you go to Dragonstone."
Maia began to bite the edge of her nail. She knew Maester Wolkan was right; she just had too many things on her mind at the moment. From just telling Jon she was pregnant, to deciding if she wanted to have the child, to even preparing to possibly visit Dragonstone – Maia had never been more stressed in her life.
She just wanted things to get easier, but gods know they wouldn't.
•••
The Traveler sat in Jon's desk chair, flinging her legs up on table beside her. Maia watched Jon look over his map of the North. Statues of various house sigils sat to his right, standing idly since none of them remained in the North. She heard him curse to himself before replacing his map with a longer one: a map of the entire continent of Westeros. Maia lofted a brow in surprise. "Curious about what lies South?" She asked.
"Sometimes you tend to forget how far places are when you've lived in the North for most of your life," Jon replied, tracing his finger over the surface of the map.
Maia hesitated for a moment, deciding on her words carefully. She sat up in her chair and watched him with curious eyes. He wrinkled his nose in confusion over something she did not know of. "Have you decided if we are to leave for Dragonstone?"
"No, I –" He paused, suddenly meeting her eyes. His own narrowed. "No, you're not going. I may even not be going. I don't need to visit some queen who wants to overthrow Cersei Lannister. You said that we should all be more concerned on the enemy in the North, and that's what I shall do."
Maia stood angrily. "Lest you forget, Your Grace," she said, knowing how much he hated the title. "Daenerys Stormborn requested to treat with both me and you. She seems interested in what we have to say, as I told her of the Great War in my letter."
"That's just what she wants you to think," Jon argued as she neared him. "All these kings and queens want the same thing: to overthrow another. They want us all to bend a knee to either of them. That's not our priority."
Her mouth opened in shock. Did he not even care for what she had to say? She ran a hand through her hair. "Did we even read the same letter? She has three fucking dragons, Jon. Dragons breath fire. I wonder what kills Wights? Oh, I know! Fire."
Jon gave her a disinterested look. "Can this not turn into a fight? I'd rather not have my nose smashed in again."
As if on instant, Maia's frown turned into a grin. She released a soft giggle and bit the edge of her lip to silence it. Remembering back to the first months she got to know Jon were nice; it honestly made her appreciate the man she had before her now. He had changed since then – especially after death – but so had she. He was practically a walking corpse, and she ... she was with child.
They knew each other well, yes, but Maia could not always decipher what thoughts swirled in his head. Who was he now, really? Jon Snow had been born a bastard, but had been resurrected as a king. As much as he sometimes tried to show his gentle side coming through, Maia knew of the monster crawling beneath his skin, whispering false words of violence in his head. Death changed people, but especially Jon Snow, the King in the North.
"Sorry," she exhaled, laying her hand on top of his, though she was used to him doing this action first. His eyes met her own then, and he realized she was holding something in. "My emotions have been all over the place lately. I don't mean to lash out, I promise."
Jon searched her eyes for an answer to his burning question. He slowly laced their fingers together, but found himself left feeling not whole. They were closer than ever now, but there was something there driving them apart. He wished he knew what, or if he was just going insane.
"Is there something you want to say?" He asked then, watching her vision light up.
How had he known? Why was she even asking that; they had known each other for too long now. He now knew all her expressions, and what was going on through her head. He knew her quirks and dislikes. He knew her biggest secret, but that was quickly being overruled by another.
"Yes," she replied. Maia sucked in a large breath of air, readying herself. She squeezed his hand tightly before holding his gaze. "Jon, I –"
A loud knock sounded on the door to their chambers. Maia's head turned to the door, swallowing down her regret. Jon moved away from her stare and closed his eyes. He breathed heavily through his nose before saying, "Come in."
The door opened slowly, and Maester Wolkan popped his head in before striding inside. He looked at Maia for a moment and then finally Jon. He lifted his hand, which held a scroll. "A raven, my king. From the Citadel."
Maia cocked her head to the side. Were Sam and Gilly at the Citadel? Jon turned and grabbed the letter, unfolding it in his calloused hands. His brow creased at the words on the page, and so did Maia's as she rested her arm on his shoulder and read the letter. Her mouth fell open at Samwell Tarly's written words to them, and soon enough, both Maia and Jon's gazes met again.
They were going to Dragonstone.