The Dragon and the Rose | Aemond Targaryen

Prologue

Princess Aemma Targaryen had always been a fighter. She was protective over her older sister, Rhaenyra, and had fiercely defended the heir and her claim to the throne. She had fought to maintain some semblance of  independence when she was married to Lord Willas Tyrell, a man 10 years her senior, by her father at age 15, and she had persevered when her first born child, a daughter she had named Saera, died in infancy just after her first nameday. Her mother, who was also her namesake, had once told her that childbirth was the battlefield of those with royal wombs. Now as she sat in pain having just given birth to her second child, it dawned on her just how true this was. Her mother had died birthing a son for her father, and her mother's mother, Daella Targaryen, had also died from childbirth. She could feel it as soon as her daughter was placed upon her breast; something was wrong. She felt weaker than she ever had before, and she alerted the midwives that something was wrong, but the maester had interrupted the oldest midwives' response and said that he would take care of it, putting a cool washcloth on her forehead.

But then the problem only grew. She could not feed her child. No milk would come from her breast, and she grew more confused and exasperated each time she tried to get her daughter to latch to feed. An hour had passed and she began bawling and then wailing alongside her child who was not getting fed and had thus began to cry. Her child was taken from her arms and a wetnurse was called despite her protests. The maester had called her lord husband in and was discussing something with him, probably something about her condition, and despite her fatigue, this irritated her.

"If something is the matter with my body then it should be me who is notified first, as both the woman who has just given birth and as a princess." she enunciated the last word nice and slow, at which the maester's eyes widened and he hastily rushed over to the right side of the bed while Willas stood to her left.

It was in that moment that Rhaenyra stormed in, the wetnurse shuffling in timidly behind her. She took a moment to assess her surroundings before her eyes locked with her sisters, and then her brow furrowed, only slightly, and she absentmindedly rubbed her left hand over the rings on her right hand, which was cradling her growing belly. This was something that she did when she was quite stressed, and Aemma realized that her condition had to be very dire indeed.

"How bad is it?" she asked, her tone soft from lack of energy.

Several moments of stillness passed; the maester, Willas, and Rhaenyra exchanging looks laced with uncertainty and concern. Rhaenyra's mouth opened to finally give a response, but then the doors of her chambers opened again and King Viserys entered, Queen Alicent not far behind him. Despite the situation, everyone bowed their heads towards the king and queen, proper etiquette was expected even in moments like this.

Viserys could not have cared less about maintaining proper etiquette at the moment. He had been informed by one of the midwives about the severity of the situation, and had immediately rushed across the castle. His children with Aemma were the center of his universe, and his fear was palpable as he noticed the somber mood across the room.

"I'm afraid it's childbed fever, princess." the maester finally responded, sadness conveyed in his voice.

She merely grunted in response, for she had known something was awry for some time now. "My daughter, where's my daughter?" she asked, no longer seeing her in the room.

"It would not be wise to have the child in the immediate vicinity" the older midwife gently explained, which sent Aemma to weeping again. She was inconsolable.

The rest of them froze when a loud roar came from outside, shaking the ground beneath them and making some of them cover their ears. 

Vhagar could feel her rider's pain, and her despair.