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JON
Rickard cooed happily in his arms, his little fingers wrapped around one of Jon's. It hadn't taken him long to win the battle against his son's wails and tears, and he kept getting better at it. He always had to act quickly otherwise Robard would join his brother's cries.
Holding his sons, seeing them smile or hearing their babbling were the few things that could comfort Jon at the moment. Since his wife was gone, those joyous hours had decreased.
Jon sat down on the chair next to his desk, Rickard still in his arms, and gazed blankly at the map. Over a month ago, Myriah had left. The very instant Maester Wolkan had confirmed her healthy enough to travel she had made her way south. Not that she wanted to. But the news of her father and brother's death had hit her harder then Jon would have thought. Traveling down to Dorne to bring Edrick home was a task some of Jon's loyal servants could have fulfilled, not causing any stir. But she now was the Ruling Princess of Dorne. She had a kingdom at her feet, a kingdom which was a natural ally to the North. Jon was aware of the importancy of Myriah's return to Dorne. Yet, he had still hoped she wouldn't have left him and their baby boys. Everything would have been much easier with her by his side. Especially raising their sons.
He had never truly appreciated Myriah's talent for calming the children when they cried. He had always believed it would come naturally to the parents, but Jon never had this talent, and neither did the wetnurses. Robard and Rickard were not just a handful. There were times when they screamed at the top of their little lungs that Jon feared the cries would reach Dorne and enrage his wife for the wetnurse's inability to look out for the children.
"It is hard to calm a crying babe," the wetnurse once said to him, "and you, your Grace, have two of them."
So Jon tried to help her the best he could, regretting that he had never helped his sick wife before. A single squeal was usually enough for him to hand one of the boys over to their mother. But Myriah never seemed to bother. She had spent every spare second with them, and she has had a lot of spare seconds before her departure.
Jon looked down at Rickard, who had fallen asleep in his arms. Relieved, he placed the boy in the cradle he shared with his brother. Immediately after the already-sleeping Robard felt his little brother next to him, he reached out for his hand. And Jon chuckled.
A knock came from the other side of the door and Jon went to open it. Maester Wolkan stood in front of him.
"A raven, your Grace, from Dragonstone." He said in a low voice once he had noticed the wetnurse leaning over the cradle. A sign for him that the boys were with Jon, sleeping most likely.
"Thank you, Maester," Jon replied in confusion. What message could possibly come from Dragonstone for him?
"Are the princes alright?" The maester asked before Jon could unroll the scroll.
