twin flames | daemon targaryen

nine

Nearly a year had passed since the royal wedding and the Red Keep had new life breathed into it. Literally.

"You are doing wonderful, Alicent," Rhaella said soothingly as Alicent cried out.

The labors had started early in the morning while the crescent moon was still high in the sky. Rhaella had been woken by one of the midwives who had come to Rhaella's chambers at Alicent's request. Rhaella had gotten up at once and threw a robe over her shoulders before racing through the Red Keep after the midwife.

Rhaella was sure that she looked a mess with her hair knotted up and dark rings under her eyes as she ran through the corridors, but she did not care. She had promised Alicent that she would assist during the birth, and nothing would stop the Targaryen girl from keeping her promise.

Hours later Rhaella was at Alicent's bedside, muttering soothing words and wiping a cool cloth along the Queen Consort's reddened face. Her labors had been progressing slowly, the moon long since having sunk below the horizon to be replaced by the beaming sun.

"I can't-I can't do this anymore!" Alicent cried, sobbing as pain rippled through her young body. Rhaella felt tears start to fall down her own face as she reached forward and clasped Alicent's hands firmly in her own.

Images of Aemma flashed through Rhaella's mind. Rhaella had never assisted with any of her mother's births, having been deemed too young by her parents to do so. But she remembered hearing Aemma's countless cries throughout the Red Keep and wishing desperately that she could be there for her. Now, Rhaella was at Alicent's bedside, assisting in the birth of her new half-brother. Fate worked in strange ways.

"You can!" Rhaella told her strongly, gripping Alicent's hands harder. "You are going to give birth to many healthy babes. You must not give up!"

"W-what?" Alicent gasped, Rhaella's words disappearing in the fog of pain that had swallowed her whole. The Queen Consort breathed heavily as the maester palpated her stomach, closing her eyes and gritting her teeth as another contraction wrenched through her.

"The babe is moving lower into the birthing canal," the maester said to Alicent, though the girl could hardly hear a word. "The head will be crowning soon."

Alicent stared blankly at him, sweat rolling down the side of her face, mixing with her tears. Rhaella quickly reached up with a cloth and dabbed away, gently turning Alicent's head so that she was looking at Rhaella.

"It means that your son will be here soon, Alicent," Rhaella said to her softly, her amethyst eyes peering deeply into Alicent's green ones. "Just a little more, and then the babe will be in your arms. I am right here with you." Alicent reached out and grasped Rhaella's arm desperately.

"Where is Rhaenyra—" Alicent stopped as her face screwed up in pain, her body nearly lifting off of the sweat-soaked bed as she let out a terrible shriek.

"Push, Alicent," Rhaella urged her at the maester's nod. Alicent's nails pressed into Rhaella's arms as she beared down. Rhaella did not complain, tolerating the pain with grace as she continued to wipe away Alicent's sweat with her other hand.

Within minutes, the screams of a newborn filled the room and Rhaella let out a sigh of relief. A healthy babe was finally born again to House Targaryen.

"Alicent, you did so well," Rhaella murmured, smiling as she helped Alicent move into a more comfortable position. "You should be so proud of yourself." Tears fell down Alicent's face as her eyes remained glued to the bundle of blankets in the maester's arms.

"My Queen, you have given birth to a healthy son," the maester said proudly, handing the child into Alicent's waiting arms. Alicent let out a choked sob as she gazed upon her son's face. He was a true Targaryen, sporting the violet eyes and pale hair of Valyria.