Led By Fiery Passion (currently being revised)

Part 74

Aenyra

The first light of morning crept over the horizon, though Aenyra knew Rhaenys had already departed long before sunrise. Sleep had eluded her through the night. Turning onto her side, she pulled Aemond's pillow close. His scent had long since faded, yet she pressed her face against it anyway, clinging to the comfort of memory. She wedged it beneath her swollen belly, searching for relief from the pressure, but rest would not come.

At last, with great effort, she pushed herself upright, slipping a robe over her white shift. Her movements were slow, cautious, one hand gripping the dresser to steady her steps toward the washroom. Then it struck.

A sudden, searing pain knifed through her lower body—sharper, deeper than anything she had felt the day before. It nearly buckled her knees.

"Ahhh!" The cry tore from her throat as she clutched the dresser for dear life. Her breath came ragged, her chest heaving. Before she could recover, another wave of agony ripped through her. She lurched forward, and a horrifying pop echoed in her ears.

Warm fluid gushed down her thighs, pooling at her feet, streaked with thin trails of blood.

"No..." she whispered, her voice breaking as tears blurred her vision. Panic clawed at her chest. It was too soon. Far too soon.

Her legs gave way. She collapsed to her knees, palms smacking the cold floor, her body wracked with relentless throbbing pressure.

"HELP! Someone—please!" she screamed, her voice raw and desperate, echoing down the stone hall.

The door burst open, and Ser Erryk rushed in, his face paling at the sight of her doubled over in pain, her shift damp and stained red.

"Princess!" He was at her side in an instant, kneeling, his hands steadying her trembling frame.

"Please—get me to the Maester. Ahh... I—I'm going into labor," Aenyra gasped, her breaths jagged and uneven as another contraction slammed into her.

"I've got you, princess. You'll be all right." His tone was calm, but his eyes betrayed urgency as he swept her into his arms.

Her scream tore through the chamber, raw and piercing, as the pain surged again, sharper than the last. She clutched her abdomen with both hands, knuckles white, face twisted in agony.

"Guards! Guards!" Erryk's voice boomed with desperation.

A soldier came running into view, his expression shifting instantly at the sight of the princess writhing in Erryk's hold. Fear shadowed his eyes as he realized the gravity of the moment.

"Get the Queen! Tell her the princess is in labor! HURRY!" he instructed, his voice firm as he quickened his pace, determination etched on his face. The guard nodded sharply, sprinting down the hallway with a sense of urgency.

Ser Erryk wasted no time in summoning Maester Gerardys. To Aenyra, it felt as if hours had slipped away in a blur.

"Maester Gerardys!" Ser Erryk called out, pounding on the door with his metal foot.

"What's all this commotion—" Gerardys began, but the moment he opened the door and caught sight of Aenyra, he understood immediately.

"This way!" he instructed, leading her to a room just down the hall. "The birthing chamber is already prepared for her."

Ser Erryk briskfully walked in and laid Aenyra down gently, bowing his head to her as he stepping back to allow the maester to examine her.

"I'll need the midwives in here immediately. Can you manage that?" Maester Gerardys asked the guard.