Upon the death of her Lord Husband, Enora Hightower returned to the Red Keep. The eldest daughter of the Hand arrived just in time to attend the tourney in celebration of the predicted birth of the King's heir.
Female!OC x Viserys Targaryen
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Green eyes fluttered open as the sun rose further in the sky, casting the room in golden light. At some point in the night Enora had rolled over, facing away from her husband. Noticing this, a sense of dread filled her as she turned back to Viserys.
He was still, his chest didn't rise with the effort it took to breathe. Enora couldn't hear his soft wheezes and gasps for air. Slowly Enora reached towards Viserys. His skin was cool to the touch. As the truth set in, Enora screamed.
Her hands brushed against Viserys's chest, pushing and pulling in an attempt to wake him. The rational part of Enora knew this was all in vain, yet she continued trying. Strong hands grabbed Enora's shoulders and arms, pulling her backwards as maesters checked over the King.
"Do something!" Enora yelled at the men as they suddenly stopped moving and started quietly speaking to each other.
The Grand Maester shook his head, turning to Enora with a look of pity. "Your Grace-"
"No! I will not hear it. Help him. You have to help him." Tears poured from Enora's eyes as she fell to the floor, her world collapsing around her.
"There is nothing to do, Your Grace. Someone will call the Silent Sister so they might begin to prepare His Grace's body." Orwell stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on Enora's shoulders. "Someone needs to alert Princess Rhaenyra. It would be best coming from you, Your Grace."
Enora froze at Orwyle's words. She nodded, rising to her feet. Enora couldn't allow herself to drown in her grief, she was needed at the moment. A nearby servant slipped Enora's dressing gown over her shoulders before Enora could leave the room.
The Queen quietly thanked the maid, before quickly slipping from the room. The halls were dark and empty, no servants scattered around, no guards stood at their post. It was eerie how quiet it was, the only sound was that of Enora's feet hitting the stone floor. Enora didn't bother to knock, only pushing the door to Rhaenyra's chambers open with a call of her name.
"Enora?" Rhaenyra asked, her voice still thick with sleep as she sat up in her bed. At seeing the look in her stepmother's eyes, Rhaenyra climbed out of bed. "Has something happened?"
"What is so important that it cannot wait for the sun to rise?" Daemon groaned as he silently rose beside Rhaenyra.
"Rhaenyra, I-" Enora's voice cracked before she could finish, unshed tears pooled in her eyes. "Your father, he- he's dead."
"What?"
Enora stepped forward, moving closer to Rhaenyra. The Queen grabbed her stepdaughter's hand, holding her tight. "I'm so sorry, Rhaenyra."
Rhaenyra let out a quiet grunt, her hand flying to her stomach. "He's dead?"
"Yes." Another grunt left Rhaenyra's lips as she bent over clutching her midsection. Enora moved closer, trying to help her stepdaughter. "What's wrong?"
Instead of answering, Rhaenyra hastily pulled the edge of her nightgown up. Her hand slipped under the fabric before being pulled out covered in blood.
"Rhaenyra." Enora gasped, worry and fear for the young woman filling her.
The Princess looked up at her stepmother, her eyes wide with fear. "The babe is coming."
Without another word, Rhaenyra hunched over once again as pain filled her body. Enora quickly grabbed onto her arm, keeping the younger woman from collapsing. Green eyes snapped to where Prince Daemon stood frozen.
"Get the maesters and the midwives." When Daemon didn't move, Enora yelled at him. "Now!"
Enora moved, looping one arm with Rhaenyra so she might rest her body weight on Enora. Taking a deep breath, Enora slowly began walking with Rhaenyra around the room, whispering comforting words with every turn.
Soon Orwyle returned with some of Rhaenyra's ladies-in-waiting. Though neither moved towards the Princess or Queen, instead quietly speaking amongst themselves.
"Her term is far from complete," Orwyle spoke, this time his voice was loud enough so Rhaenrya and Enora could here. "This should not be happening."
"It is fucking happening." Rhaenyra yelled at the man.
"Keep calm, Rhaenyra." Enora instructed, leading the Princess further into the room.
Rhaenyra's ladies-in-waiting followed closely behind with equally comforting words. Rhaenyra's cries of pain grew louder as she allowed Enora to lead her to the bed. Enora crawled onto the bed behind Rhaenyra, allowing the Princess to rest against her as the eldest lady in waiting flipped Rhaenyra's skirt up.
"Princess, you must push." The Lady in waiting instructed.
Rhaenyra's fingernails dug into Enora's forearms, clawing and the skin as she screamed in pain. "Get Out!"
Red water rushed out from between Rhaenyra's legs, soaking the mattress. With one more scream the babe slipped out and all was quiet for a moment. Rhaenyra pushed off of Enora and lifted the babe to her chest, staring down at the silent infant. Slowly Enora lifted her hand to the babe and began gently rubbing it's back.
Rhaenyra looked at her stepmother, confused as to what she was doing. As her lips parted to question the woman, a quiet cry filled the room. Rhaenyra's head snapped to the babe in her arms, amazed as the tiny thing opened its mouth and a loud wail could be heard.
"Praise the mother!" One of the ladies-in-waiting cried.
A smile spread across Rhaenyra's face as she held the babe tight to her chest. A daughter, she had a daughter.
★・・・・・・★
Like she had so many years ago, Enora stood in a field overlooking the Blackwater Bay prepared to say goodbye to a member of House Targaryen. However this time it was a much smaller and intimate affair. The members of House Targaryen, House Velaryon, House Strong, House Peake and the members of the Small Council looked on at King Viserys's pyre. The only sound was that of the wind blowing up from the sea as the crowd waited.
Enora stood at the front of the crowd with Rhaenyra beside her, the rest of Enora's children stood slightly behind her with their families. Daemon stood behind Rhaenyra. Somewhere to Rhaenyra's left stood Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys and their son, Laenor. Alicent and Harwin and their sons stood to the right of Enora's children.
Rhaenrya had looped her arm through Enora's, hoping to bring her stepmother comfort especially after she had saved her daughter. Enora's right hand patted Rhaenyra's upper arm, signaling the Princess that it was time. Rhaenyra's gaze turned to the nearby hill Syrax sat upon. As if she could feel her rider's eyes on her, the yellow dragon perked up.
"Dracarys." The Princess commanded, her voice strong.
The majestic beast stepped further down the hill before roaring. Flames shot from the dragon's mouth lighting the pyres on fire. Enora's eyes remained on her husband's burning body, knowing it would be the last time she would see him. Tears filled Enora's eyes and began running down her cheeks.
