Stelsa, the girl crafted from the broken leftovers from the Gods, is far from the expectations of a normal lady. Her father, Aaeron Meryls, and her uncles sought to train her in the way of the blade. Many whisper about her origin - is she bastard li...
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AEMOND WATCHED AS THE men stood in the hall filtered in and out of the group through the passing hours. The storm that had brewed the night before shook the keep throughout the night, alongside the pained cries of his sister. Aemond remained standing by the wall, waiting for the doors to open as his mother came out to tell them it was over — that his sister and her babe were fine. She hadn't. Neither had Stelsa. The hours ticked on, guards shifted out, and the halls became bright from the sun outside. Aemond refused to move from his spot despite how his legs began to ache. When the doors finally opened, his mother appeared in a disarray. Her skin was paler than normal, as though she had seen the Stranger. It made Aemond's body go rigid. His mother beckoned her father and Aemond forward, and they wordlessly followed her inside the room. Heleana's doors were sealed shut, but her cries were not sealed behind them. They were louder inside her chambers. It echoed off the walls. Aemond watched his mother closely as she moved through the common room.
His mother's face was pinched together, her hands clenched together as she turned to the Maestor who bowed his head shamefully. "Tell them, maestor." His mother commanded, her tone sharp as she began to pace the length of the room.
"The princess' labors are not progressing." He admitted, face paling as he looked between the Hand and the Prince. His dark eyes were regrettable, almost as though he were begging for their forgiveness for his words. "I believe it is nearing the time to make a choice." Aemond stared at the man, watching as his fingers nervously fiddled together.
"I told him no." His mother jumped in, glaring her eyes towards the aging man.
"And as I reminded her Grace, the choice is not hers... it is up to the Princess' husband." The maestor chose his words carefully, glancing towards the Hand in a sense of desperation. Aemond had seen that look before – he had seen it the night he lost his eye. It was the look Rhaenyra had given the King. Aemond felt his teeth grind at the similarity. "We can continue until Prince Aegon arrives, but we should send for him." The maestor told the Hand, watching as Otto nodded at his words and glanced towards Alicent.
Alicent's hands trembled. Her body felt heavier than it truly was, watching as her daughter paced around her room in pain. It was her duty to this realm, but that did not make it any less painful to watch. Alicent had watched for hours as her daughter denied any assistance from the midwives — she had even pushed Alicent's hands away. The only person that seemed to know when to touch Heleana was Stelsa, who softly hummed for hours without a drink of water to soothe Heleana into resting. Even then, Stelsa did not rest. She dabbed at Heleana's forehead with a cool cloth and would whisper words of encouragement into Heleana's dreams.
The purple eye of her son caught Alicent's attention from where he stood — hands held behind his back as he awaited his command. Alicent moved towards him, grabbing his biceps and squeezing them. He looked down at her, almost asking for what she needed from him. "Will you find Aegon?" She whispered, watching as Aemond nodded instantly. She began to guide him towards the doors, away from her father and the maestor who quietly talked. "I will keep them from doing anything rash, but you must make haste." Alicent told him. She was sure Aemond could feel the tremble in her voice. Aemond glanced briefly towards the closed doors and Alicent followed his gaze. She was no fool. "I will ensure she is taken care of." Those words pulled her son's gaze back, a look of question filling his gaze.
