Rhaenys had slept in her bed for months, now. Her little girl had simply climbed in one night, curled up beside her, and snored softly in her sleep. Elia did not begrudge her this; it was not as if Rhaegar would take his place beside her. He had not done so ever since she became with child.
It had hardly been a week since she had given birth to Aegon, in the midst of more agony than Elia had ever known before. Her body was barely strong enough to carry a child, and when it came to birthing the creature, it had felt as if her whole body was going to tear apart. Where women knew sweetness and bliss after such an ordeal, Elia met with fever, anguish, and strife. Some days, she could hardly move from her bed. Others, she managed to sit up. Any more than that, she had not yet accomplished.
It was her sweet girl was who stayed by her side for all those days. Rhaenys would climb into bed and take gentle hold of her hand, asking her all manner of worried questions. “How are you feeling, mama? Is the baby okay, mama? Do you need to sleep, mama?” Elia had tried her best to keep her from worrying. “I’ll be fine, darling. We’re all okay.” She always faced her daughter with a tired smile that Rhaenys returned with much more heart.