"HANDS TURNING LOOM...
SPOOL OF GREEN, SPOOL OF BLACK...
DRAGONS OF FLESH WEAVING DRAGONS OF THREAD..."
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Roselyn Tully-Hightower, is stuck in the middle of the Dance of the Dragon's. The sickening blow of losing her husband and newborn son...
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"ONCE AGAIN, HISTORY WAS REPEATED ITSELF..."
---¤𖠁¤---
10TH DAY OF THE 5TH MOON OF 108 AC.
One could swear that the world stopped spinning, as a sudden storm swept across Riverlands. The worst the Riverlands had ever seen. Which said a lot on it's own, as it was called 'The Riverlands' for a bloody reason. The wind howled so powerful it was like a thousand dragons flapping their wings in unison. The rain poured down like it would never rain again.
Thunder crackled so loudly, it was like a pounding of drunken footsteps on wooden floorboards. Lighting shook Riverrun so powerfully, they feared the castle would crumble if it struck one more time. As the hours slowly drifted by, and the arrival of Roselyn Tully came closer and closer, the rain lightened up. The winds stopped howling. Thunder and Lightning came to a halt. What they thought was a moment of peace in this hell of a storm, it was rather short lived.
A nasty flood took its place, sweeping away the year's crops and farms, leaving the farmlands bare. It was like the Gods, Old and New, were doing all they could to warn the Riverlands of the future daughter of Tully. Of the little devil's cries that would soon fill Riverrun. Of the spools of green that would so intimately intertwine with dragon's flesh. Of the doom of one little girl.
⎯¤ ☾ 𖠁 ☽ ¤⎯
A blood curdling wail escapes Evelyne Tully's lips, a midwife quickly pats a cool rag on her forehead to dry the sweat. Offering Evelyne soft words of encouragement, another midwife brushes away some strands of curly auburn hair out of her face. Resting her head against the wall, the Maesters peek under her skirt, checking how far along she was. Groaning as another bone shaking pain fills her lower body, she grips tightly onto the wall, her nails embedding into the rough stone. Her labors felt like they were dragging on for forever. Her stubborn little babe would not come just yet.
"SON A WHORE!" Evelyne sobs, "I can't. I can't do it."
"Come on, my Lady. Your almost there. Just a little longer!" A mid wife encourages, "Push."
Another scream escapes her lips as the feeling of her whole lower body being stretched and pulled apart. Letting out another groan, her legs trembled and the pressure on her lower intestines was thick and overwhelming. Although Evelyne Tully loved her baby, she was sick of the little devil ripping her lower body apart.
Panting and wheezing for air, Evelyne tightly shuts her eyes before pushing as hard as she can. She was going to force the babe out of her, whether the babe liked it or not. Digging her nails even more into the wall, she pushes and pushes. Tears of exhaustion and pain streaming down her flush cheeks.
"Just a little more! Push! Push! Push!" A midwife orders, "Come on now! Just a little more!"
"I am trying!" Evelyne hisses, shooting a deathly glare at the midwife.
