TW: Mentions of self-harm and death

Maekar had entered his old chambers to see it hadn't changed one bit, except for the books he had destroyed had been repaired and put back on the shelf and his old bed had been made. The Unhinged wouldn't know if he'd be able to sleep in a proper bed again after years of sleeping on the ground under the stars, but he'd try.

Maekar slowly stripped off his armour, placing it on the stand in the far corner of the room, placing all his small blades and his sword on the table next to it, before slowly peeling away at his shirt, revealing the many scars that had littered his arms and back. In the mirror at the opposite end of the room, Maekar slowly inspected himself, running his hand along the fresh bruise on his shoulder from the joust.

He felt tears well up in his eyes at the thought of Queen Aemma.

No, he thought to himself bitterly, I mustn't show emotion. The scars littered upon his arms had been self inflicted. Every time he showed emotion whilst leading his Dothraki horde, he had his Bloodriders whip his arms or he sliced them open himself. It had helped build his walls while he was away, made him fearless, but now back in his home all those years later, all his emotions came running back.

Maekar had called for the servants to run his bath, and leave a fresh set of clothes out for later when he'd eventually have to make a proper appearance at court.

"My Prince," a voice said behind him, and Maekar turned, not caring he was nude from the waist up, to see Declan staring open mouthed at him. Declan had stood 5'10 in height, a tall girl especially for Westeros, while Maekar stood at 6'5.

"Have you never seen a man before, Declan?" Maekar chuckled heartily when Declan crossed the room with quick, eager filled strides, wrapping her arms around Maekar's neck as he lifted her from the floor.

"You know my preferences, nice to see you are still a cunt," she laughed. "I have missed you, Kar" said Declan solemnly, her nose buried in Maekar's chest.

"I have missed you too, Dec," Maekar smiled, burying his face deeper into Declan's head. The servants worked around the two reunited friends, running Maekar a steaming hot bath filled with calming salts from Yi Ti and Lys.

"You have your own fleet then?" Maekar asked her, stepping out onto the balcony that over looked the courtyard. He looked down at the crowd of people all rushing about, preparing for Queen Aemma's funeral. He noticed Alicent stood in the corner, looking directly at him. He raised his hand in a wave, causing the Hightower to blush and walk off.

"She is still in love with you after all these years," Declan chuckled, looking at the retreating figure. "And yes, fifty ships, twenty of them warships."

"Impressive," Maekar nodded.

"I should let you bathe in private," said Declan softly, stepping away from Maekar. Maekar raised his hand to wave her goodbye, when Declan noticed something odd. "What happened to your finger?" Declan asked, grabbing Maekar's wrist holding it up to her eye level.

"Hidden gauntlet," Maekar shrugged, smirking when Declan just nodded, shoving Maekar away from her.

—————

Maekar entered the birthing chamber slowly, looking around cautiously as he did. He knew he wouldn't be welcomed here, especially by his father and youngest sister, but he couldn't help it.

When he was young he was immature and just wanted his real mother, a woman he had never met yet yearned for, when Aemma was more than happy to take Visenya and Maekar in as her own. Maekar pushed Aemma and Rhaenyra away and lost his father in the process at his own accord.

The Silent Sisters hadn't yet taken Aemma's body, she laid lifeless on her birthing bed, a wound above her womb and dried blood lying all around her. The blood didn't effect Maekar, he was a Khal of 70,000 strong after all, yet he felt bile raise up his throat before he hastily swallowed it back down.

"I'm sorry," Maekar whispered to Aemma's body. "I'm so sorry, Aemma," tears began to stream down his face as he fell to his knees beside the dead Queen, clutching at her hand. "I-I didn't mean any of it."

From the corner of the room came a slight gurgle. Maekar sniffed, wiping his tears on the sleeve of his tunic.

"Hello, sweet boy," Maekar coo'd, picking his baby brother up and cradling him against his chest. He knew that his brother would soon pass too, and that the bond he created now with him would break his heart when that time eventually happened, but he couldn't help it. His father had out right refused to see him, and he wasn't sure how Visenya and Rhaenyra was feeling, but he was here, he wanted to make his final hours special. "I'm here, your big brother is here," he placed a kiss to his hairline.

"Baelon," Maekar jumped in fright at the voice, relaxing when he saw it was just Rhaenyra and Visenya standing in the doorway. "His name is Baelon."

"A name fit for a King," Maekar smiled, before frowning as he turned towards his sisters. "You should not be here to see your mother like this."

"I know, but I needed to see him, just once before he..." Rhaenyra trailed off, and Maekar passed Baelon off to Rhaenyra, who held him as though he was glass and would break at any moment.

"Sit," he ordered his twin sister.

"Gone for eight years and you think you can order me around?" Visenya said sternly, holding her baby bump. Her stern facade cracked when she winced as she took a step towards Rhaenyra.

"Sit," Maekar ordered again, pulling out two chairs for his sisters.

"I know you hate me-" Rhaenyra began, looking at her older brother.

"I do not hate you," Maekar cut her off. He moved closer to his youngest sister, kneeling in front of her and resting his hands upon Rhaenyra's arms she cradled Baelon. "I did, I will not lie, but not anymore. I matured in my time away, and realised that Aemma was the closest thing I ever had to a loving mother, and that I was not the older brother I should have been to you."

Rhaenyra bit back her tears as she buried her head in Maekar's chest, moving her body to the side so Maekar could hug her close to his body without crushing the infant boy.

"Let it all out, sweet girl," Visenya whispered, pushing her chair closer to her siblings and joining the hug, placing a kiss to Rhaenyra's hairline, and with that the three siblings sought comfort in each other, grieving the loss of a mother and their brother.

—————

Before the funeral of Queen Aemma Arryn was set to take place, Maekar needed to talk with his father. He had an army of seventy thousand Dothraki, seventy, thousand horses, ninety five regular ships and fifteen warships and a dragon worthy of Aegon the Conqueror to house after all. He knocked on the door to his father's room, sending the two Kingsguard on his door a wary look.

"Enter," the King's voice was heard.

"Father," Maekar bowed his head. He looked back up to see he was sat in front of his model of Old Valyria, playing with Aemma's wedding ring. "I came to offer you my condolences, Your Grace," he smoothed out the creases in his black tunic. He hadn't wore proper clothes since before he had joined the Khalasar, but he thought the situation had been rather fitting.

The last funeral he had attended was for one of his four Blood Riders. Adazho had been his first Blood Rider when he had first killed Khal Kaeddarqo, and he had died protecting him when a rival Khal drew is blade in Vaes Dothrak. Adazho was burnt on a funeral pyre in the centre of Vaes Dothrak with his horse and sent to roam the shadow lands until the day Maekar and his three other Blood Riders would join him.

"Thank you, my boy," Viserys gave him a small smile. "They mean a lot to me, and your sisters too. We are all glad to have you home, your nephew and niece especially."

"It's been a joy to come home and meet them," Maekar nodded. "I was horrible to Rhaenyra when I was younger, I hope to fix what I can with her," said Maekar, before he got to the real reason why he came to talk to his father. "I need a castle, father."

"A castle?" Viserys repeated. "You haven't the army to hold it?"

"I do, father," Maekar held his head high. "Seventy thousand men and horses loyal to me and in turn, you."

"Seventy thousand?" Viserys' mouth dropped open. "How?"

"I needed to survive somehow," Maekar shrugged.

"Well, there is a handful of islands West of Dragonstone Maegor the Cruel claimed as the crown's but has sat uninhabited since my father died," Viserys shrugged his shoulders. "The Castle had never been finished but the island still has workers there such as farmer's, blacksmiths and other trades.."

"Does the island have a name, father?"

"No, maybe now it will," Viserys smiled, patting his hand.

"Thank you, father, I shall not let you down," Maekar bowed his head before exiting the bed chambers. He didn't need know that seventy thousand Dothraki screamers were about to touch down in Westeros for the first time in history.