Birth

The queen had gone in labour six-and-ten hours ago, and the royal babe still hadn't been delivered.

Childbirth had left Queen Daenaera pale and exhausted. An army worth of midwives that her husband had supplied her with hadn't made this any more easier. The pain was unbearable, it felt as though the babe was tearing its way out of her, and its end had still yet to come.

Queen Daenaera hadn't let any of her children be present in the room of course, even though all four of them had expressed the same curiosity and interest in seeing the youngest of the litter entering the world. Alas, they were too young, the oldest of them, her prized Daeron, being only seven years of age. Well, seven years and four moons old, and he'd remind everyone on a daily basis, wether they'd like to know or not. After all, he was the prince, the crown prince, to be precise.

And the childbirth room was no man's place.

It is, though, this man's place, she thought, as another wave of pain seized her, and her king of a husband, Aegon Targaryen, the Third of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, entangled his fingers to hers. He was pale, he had always been pale, but anxiety had drained any colour left on his white face. Even his pale silvery hair seemed less lush and bright that day. The only thing that remained the same were his eyes - dark, purple, and sad.

The queen left out another moan. Her king squeezed her hand.

'It's alright, it's going to be alright,' he assured her with words she was certain he didn't believe himself.

Why are you here? she wanted to ask but couldn't find the power to. You need not be here. You're the king. Your subjects need you. Why waste time in a woman's matter? Duty, she knew. Duty and Viserys' persuation.

As peculiar was his behaviour for a man, Daenaera was, secretly, thankful for his presence. She was only twenty-three, and she was pregnant, and she didn't want to die, not alone. Well, there were about six midwives present, but she didn't know any of them personally. Not that she knew Aegon all that much, either. He was always so cold and distant, the only person who could claim to know him well without being accused of lying was Viserys, his own brother, and only man on earth he fully trusted. Sometimes, Daenaera felt she knew her husband's brother better than she knew her actual husband.

'I don't like this,' she heard one of the midwives say, but her voice was distant and unworldly, as though she was speaking from miles away. But Daenaera knew she only was standing inches from her.

'Shut your foolish mouth, or the Stranger might hear you,' another chatisted her. She wasn't sure who was who. She only wanted this torment to end. She wanted to pain to go away, and hold her babe in her arms, like she had done four more times in the past.

She couldn't feel Aegon's hand anymore. She couldn't feel it despite his tight grip.

'Aaaargh.'

Finally, the babe was out, covered in blood and screaming. It screamed, and screamed and screamed, and despite the pain, Daenaera left a sigh of relief. It's over.

The oldest of the midwives handed the babe to her, wrapped tight in black blankets stripped with red, and uttered some words to her, words she couldn't understand but she cared not. She was holding that perfect little creature in her arms, and for the first time in that day, she could ignore the pain and exhaustion.

'It's a girl,' her royal husband informed her. 'A girl.'

Daenaera nodded, but couldn't bring herself to mind the babe's gender. The only thing that mattered was her babe sucking her nipple. It wasn't even the first time she had a suckling in her breast, but it still felt like it was.

Her fifth, her fifth babe. And the eighth, technically, child that she would take care of, for she had previously been a mother to everything but name to Viserys's children ever since their mother, the beautiful Larra Rogare of Lys had abandoned them. They weren't children anymore, though. Aegon and Aemon were men, and Naerys would soon be a woman as well.

The queen kissed the top of her fifth child's bald head.

'Elaena,' she declared. 'Her name is Elaena.'

Aegon nodded. His face was expressionless. Whether he liked the name or not, he kept it to himself. Daenaera took this to mean he approved, or didn't care enough to protest. But it wasn't like Aegon had never see to his children getting proper names. He had been the one to name their second-born son and second-born daughter, Baelor and Rhaena, named for his half-sisters, Baela and Rhaena, daughters of the infamous Rogue Prince, Daemon Targaryen (who had been Aegon's own father) and his fair lady Laena of House Velaryon.

'I was thinking of your aunt, the Queen Helaena,' she explained, quite answer on which term to use for her. Queen or princess? Would any of them offend her husband? 'As a tribute. It's time to mend the wounds.'

Aegon nodded again, seemingly emotionlessly, but Daenaera could detect a twinge of pain in his eyes. The Dance of the Dragons had inflicted too much pain on him, she knew. The shadows in his eyes hadn't left, and she knew they would never leave, either.

'It's a great idea,' he said quietly. 'Elaena. I like it. I would bet she'll grow to like it as well,' he said, caressing the babe's cheek. It was a rare moment of warmth from his side, and Daenaera closed her eyes. She wanted to treasure that picture, to memorise it, for she knew she'd never see something like that from Aegon again.

'I'm looking forward to introducing the children to their new sister,' she said. She wondered if Viserys had a moment to spare to come visit her. He was ever busy, that Viserys.

'Not yet,' Aegon replied. 'You need to relax, and so does the babe. Daeron, Baelor, Daena and Rhaena can wait.'

'Of course,' she agreed, and planted another kiss on Elaena's head.

A/N: English is not my native language, so please forgive the language. As you might have guessed by now, this centers around Elaena Targaryen, specifically her birth, from her mum's POV.

Disclaimer: Oh my sweet summer child, if I were GRRM, you think I'd post material on instead of selling them in proper book form to make $$$?

Reviews are always welcome.