In the realm of fire and blood, where dragons dance and ambition burns bright, two souls entwine in a fate forged by destiny's hand. Sitara Evangeline Potters-Black, mistress of death, lies on the precipice of childbirth, her essence flickering like...
On the 10th day of the 10th moon of 108 AC, Queen Alicent—known to her beloved as Sitara—sat in the garden just outside her chambers, her nimble fingers deftly guiding the needle through the fabric of a blanket she was embroidering for her children. The soft sounds of their coos echoed in the air, a symphony of innocence from their cribs, where Aegon and Sirion were learning to harness their nascent magic.
As her needle danced through the cloth, her heart swelled with maternal pride. The boys were speaking in broken words, fragments of Parseltongue slipping from their lips, and she marveled at how her initial assumptions had proven true. Sirion’s first word—"mother"—had reached her ears when she had just six months along with this child, another blessing yet to come.
But amid the warmth of her home and the vibrant beauty of the garden, a cold wind of longing cut through her. Daemon was far away, engaged in a relentless war on the Stepstones, and each day that passed without him felt like a year. She could feel the pain of each wound he suffered as if they were etched into her own flesh, a testament to their soul bond. The chaos of battle seeped into her heart, mirroring the chaos that brewed within her as she cradled the love of her life in her thoughts.
Alicent sighed softly, thinking of the man who filled her heart. Oh, Daemon, my love. I wish you were here. The weight of her pregnancy pressed upon her—joy mingled with sorrow, the promise of new life tainted by the distance from her beloved. If only I could have you by my side, to share in these moments of joy and anticipation, she lamented inwardly, longing for his presence to comfort her.
Suddenly, a sharp pang jolted through her, pulling her from her reverie. Gasping, she felt a rush of warmth as the waters of her labor broke, trickling down her legs. The pain that followed was unlike anything she had ever experienced, sending shockwaves through her body.
She took Hermione’s hands and placed them on her belly, covered by a yellow gown“I think my water just broke,” she managed to whisper to Hermione, who had been seated beside her, engrossed in a book.
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Hermione's eyes widened in realization. “Yes, that is quite visible!” she exclaimed, her voice rising as she called for the maesters and midwives. Panic settled in her chest as she sprang into action.
Sirius, who had been lingering nearby, quickly rushed to her side, his instincts taking over. “Pick her up, take her inside the chambers!” Hermione instructed, urgency flooding her voice. Sirius nodded, cradling Alicent in his arms with a gentleness that belied his fierce exterior.
“I am right here, my precious little Bambi. Nothing is going to happen to you,” he reassured her, his tone calm as he carried her into the chambers.
Inside, Hermione turned to Emily, who had been overseeing the boys. “Go and inform King Viserys of the Queen’s labors!” she commanded, and Emily dashed away, her silvery gown flowing behind her like a comet streaking through the night sky.
