Naerys did not have the fairytale life, nor did she want it. As the youngest child of King Baelon she would be expected to marry and be the dutiful wife. That was not who she was. Naerys had a dark secret that she would never whisper to anyone. That...
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Naerys was covered in a thin sheet of sweat. Gods she fucking hated the Dornish heat. Handmaidens took their dampen cloths to her forehead, murmuring encouraging words to the young mother to be. Her fingers were tearing at the sheets and every muscle screamed in agony. The one person she wanted in the room was running late and when she could, she would wrong her neck dry.
Boots on hard stone drew her attention to the open doorway. Frynne appeared, panting and arms full of gold but she nearly dropped every single coin. She rushed to Naerys side, pulling down the hood of her cloak. Her cheeks were glowing from excitement or the sun, Naerys could not tell. "Where have you been?" The young woman whispered through gritted teeth.
"Raising a child is not cheap by any means. Our Company got a tip of a Galley carrying goods. It was not well guarded as you can tell." Frynne motioned to the bags of gold the other recruits came carrying in. Naerys eyes narrowed in anger and she sat up, her anger aimed at the other sellswords filling her labor room.
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"Out!" The young ones scrambled as they ran from the room. Frynne took Naery's hand and guided her to rest against the pillows.
"You have not been laboring long. You are doing so well." Frynne kissed the back of Naerys hand and the woman looked as if she had brutally murdered her entire family line.
"I went into labor just as you left this morning." Naerys was taking deep breaths through her nose, her eyes giving a warning to her counterpart.
"My apologies, mother." Frynne teased. She had began to call Naerys "Mother" and "Mama" when Naerys insisted on not referring to her as Princess. Frynne gritted her teeth as a pain shot into her hips. She whimpered, unable to find comfort in any position. Frynne grabbed an extra pillow, shoving it under her hips for extra cushion.
"G-Gods I cannot take it much longer." Naerys covered her face with a hand, trying to wipe the streaming tears off of her cheeks. Frynne took her hand and whispered praises against her ear. The handmaidens rushed around the room, bringing in a soft blanket while they all huddled between her legs.
"My Lady, it is time to push." The handmaidens helped Naerys to a squatting position, helping hold her back to she did not fall. Naerys saw white heat flash behind her eyelids. She could not focus on a single thing in the room. Her belly ached, her back ached, her entire body was revolving around pain. Frynne held her elbow and hand as she began pushing.
The screams from Naerys mouth were horrendous. Frynne would compare it to a woman being murdered. It made her heart ache. She could not protect or bare this pain for her. She could only stay close to her side.
"I will fucking burn Daemon alive!" Naerys cried out. Her nails dug into the handmaidens and Frynne's hands but neither minded. Frynne laughed and kissed the side of Naerys head.
"You must beat me to it." Frynne reminded the young girl. Naerys bared down, giving every inch of her being to bring her child into the world. "You are so close, My Lady. Just a little more. You will bring your child into this world kicking and screaming like a true Dragon." Naerys tightened her arm around the back of Frynne's neck and screamed.
Frynne swore she could hear the roar of Ligthries in the distance.
Naerys have a gasping breath. Her child plopped down into the blanket below and all grew quiet. The plan was for Frynne to cut the cord that connected mother and child but it was sliced in the blink of an eye. Naerys tried to lift her dress to see her child but the handmaidens whisked him away. The only sounds were Naerys heavy breathing and panicked questions.
"Why are they not crying? What's wrong?" Naerys questioned, looking between Frynne and her child. Frynne rushed to the baby. It was not crying, it's chest was not rising and falling with breaths. Frynne tore the newborn from the handmaidens much to their disapproval. She bent the baby face first against her arm, stimulating its back.
"Come on, Dragonfly. Give me a cry. Mama is waiting for you." Frynne paced the room and the rest of the females watched in horror. When all hope seemed lost, the sweetest sound was heard. The baby gave a mighty cry. Naerys physically collapsed back on the bed and smiled for the first time. Frynne turned the babe back in her arms and peaked under the blanket. "A boy."
Naerys gave a sob of happiness. "A little boy." Frynne gently passed the babe off to his mother. Naerys held the babe to her chest to share her warmth. She thanked Frynne and leaned her head against her shoulder. Frynne tucked herself in bed beside of Naerys while the handmaidens finished cleaning the mother.
Eventually Naerys and Frynne were left in peace while Naerys fed her son. She was relieved her son had latched the first time, fisting some of Naerys long silver locks. "Have you settled on a name?"
Frynne and Naerys spent many nights looking for names in history books. Naerys did not want to settle on a traditional Targaryen name. For she was a bastard and her son deserved better. He would not be Aegon and Viserys. There were far too many of those. "Dallon."
"Dallon." Frynne repeated. She softly stroked the boys silver hair. It was the softest thing she had ever had the pleasure of touching. Naerys laid her head against Frynne's chest. She was exhausted but filled with so much love. She could not remember when she felt so at peace. "I am so proud of you. You are so strong." Frynne stroked Naery's hair.
Naerys had not had many people be proud of her. Frynne was the one constant in her life. She had taken up working as a sellsword when they escaped to Dorne. She was skilled, she was trained. Eventually she made her way to the top of the ladder. She had hired her own gang of misfits. She put a roof over Naerys head and made sure she had everything she needed
She was everything Naerys had wanted from Daemon.
"I would like you to be his Godmother. If you would be willing." Naerys spoke through drowsy eyes. "Gods, I would promote you to be his father if I could."
"Papa Frynne, at your service." The older woman teased. Looking upon the small wrinkled face of the newborn filled her with care and love. The only time she had felt this love, was with Naerys herself. Naerys began to doze off, nearly dropping the infant in the process. "I have him." Frynne gently lifted the boy into her arms, fixing the front of Naerys dress to hide her chest. Naerys leaned into her, almost instantly passing out-
Frynne played with the ends of Naery's hair, rocking Dallon in her opposite arm. Frynne did not know if she knew the true meaning of love. She honestly thought it was just a tale that people told their children. Sex and passion was what she had been surrounded by her entire childhood and growing up. She was born from lust, not love.
However when she looked at how Naery's eyes wrinkled when she laughed. Or how the girl snorted if she laughed too hard, it was hard to deny the feeling in her chest. Frynne bent her head and kissed Naerys's hair, smiling into the soft white locks.
She knew the dangers of announcing her love to another woman. But I'm Dorne it was not uncommon. In Westeros was a different story altogether. She was not even sure if the feelings would be reciprocated but Frynne was willing to take that chance.
"I love you."
"I know, if you love me you will stop interrupting my sleep."
