The song of ice and fire

Rhaelle's Birth

Jon

He had never been this fearful in his entire life. Even the Night King and the army of the dead didn’t scare him half as much as the thought of losing the Love of his life. Daenerys had been in labour for hours. There was a complication Sam had said. They needed to turn the baby who was in breech. Jon looked at his wife thrashing in the bed. Daenerys was sweating terribly, groaning in pain, screaming even.

“We can’t save them both….” The Grand Maester said to the King. Sam looked so tired, ragged even. He had been up all night with the midwives and a few Maesters. The Queen had started to bleed and that had taken a turn for the worse.

“Your Grace you have to choose…”

“I can’t!” Jon almost screamed, Tears welling up in his eyes. It flowed down and Jon didn’t bother to wipe them away. All he cared about right then was his wife and her perilous condition.

“Jon,” Sam called him softly. Jon looked at his old friend. Sam was more like a brother to him. He saw the look in Sam’s sad eyes and Jon felt the pain, it was far worse than being stabbed in the heart.

“Save them Sam…You’re the only one who can. I can’t lose my wife…” Jon begged. Daenerys let out a painful cry and Jon rushed to his wife’s side. He knelt by the bed and took her hand, clasping it tight.

“It’s going to be fine my Love…you’re going to be alright…” He said gently to her. The midwives were trying to turn the baby and Daenerys groaned in pain.

“Save the baby Jon…” She said to him. She was so pale, he had never seen Daenerys this pale before. He grew fearful and clutched her hands tight. You cannot leave me, my Love…How am I suppose to go on without you?

“Promise me you’ll save the child Jon…” Daenerys told him, her voice had gotten weak

Just save my wife….I beg you Old gods who I have worshipped all my life. If you have to take a life away. Let it not be my Love. Let her live…Let her live…

The child finally came out, pulled out legs first. It was a miracle she was still breathing. The baby had fine silver hair and violet eyes. Jon held her in his arms. She was a beautiful thing, with delicate features like that of her mother. He looked at his wife, still lying unconscious as the midwives stitched her up. Her body was burning up and they placed cooling cloths on forehead. The midwives sighed and shook their heads as they looked at each other, knowing from experience that it probably wouldn’t end well for the Queen. Childbed fever was deadly.

Even Sam wasn’t so hopeful. He had made a poultice out of garlic, elderberry and honey. It could help cure the infection. The Queen needed medicinal hot broths fed to her every four hours. And her wounds needed to be inspected and the gauze changed. Sam had ordered the Queen’s room to be disinfected with soap and quicklime. He had always been careful to wash his hands with soap and clean water when treating his patients, the midwives and their assistants followed as well. Archmaester Ebrose had always said that many diseases could have been prevented if people actually washed more. Now all they could do was wait.

Jon

Jon never left his wife’s side. He sat on the armchair by the bed, just watching her, waiting for Daenerys to open her eyes. His children slept in the sitting room next to the Queen’s chambers, waiting for their Mama as well. Everything else was put on hold. The Hand, Lord Tyrion would be acting regent. Daenerys’ fever broke on the the third night. The worse was over and everyone was relieved. The Queen would need time to recover. He smiled when he saw that his wife had woken up. It had been almost a week.