Of Dwarfs And Daughters: Chapter One

It was a cold night. Not worse than the frozen nights Westeros has known already, yet a night in which people would stay in their warm house and beds if possible. Sadly, for one woman it wasn't possible. She was in the ninth month of her pregnancy, and just went into labor. She was cold and exhausted, the winds stabbing her skin like daggers. With what little strength she had left she crawled her way to the Citadel, where she hoped she would be treated.

Delivering the baby was the easy part; most of the apprentices specialized in anatomy and healing on the way to the first metal on their chain, however, even the maesters' healing skills didn't help saving the baby's mother, who was ill to begin with, adding that to the amount of blood she lost left them with no options but to drug her with milk of the poppy and hope for the end of her suffers.

But the woman didn't give in to her misery so quickly, and on the verge of death, she held her little baby girl close to her chest with shaking, blood-stained hands. She sang to the little one a song with no words, just hoarse whispers as a melody. Tears streamed down her face as she caressed the baby's cheeks. "My beautiful Beatrice, so beautiful. You have your father's eyes. Your mother loves you so much, I'm sorry I have to leave you alone already". Little Beatrice looked at her mother, and almost as if understanding what she was told started crying, tears forming in the corner of the eyes, which were welcomed to this world with the sight of pain and agony.

The woman turned to the two men who were present in the room "My daughter is no ordinary peasant girl" she said.

"Yes well, that's what all mothers say about their children but..." one of the men started replying but was cut off by the other man.

"Who's the baby's father?" the man asked, as he figured the woman must've meant the baby is of royal blood. The mother though, was obviously a commoner, with her ragged clothes and rough hands.

"Her father is a great lord and would repay you generously if you took care of her" the woman spoke mostly to the second man, who seemed more willing to listen to what she said. She handed him her baby, and right after that started coughing blood.

"Please, who's the father?" the man asked once more, but the woman coughs didn't last long and she fell to the bed, dead.

The room was quiet for a split second, no longer was the silence interrupted by the sound of crying or coughing. Then the other man spoke..

"Sometimes I wonder if they're doing it on purpose; leaving us hanging like that, with bits and pieces of a will. People are not careful enough with their crucial last words" the man, whose name was Hemme, grumbled as he approached the dead woman, shutting her eyes so it would look as if she's sleeping. "I once treated a man, an old fool who set a trap to catch a deer but was stupid enough to step into it himself. He wasted his last minutes telling me 'the treasure is buried under...' again and again. I swear on my chain he has repeated that so many times that if he really wanted me to know where the bloody thing is hidden he could have gotten up and fetch it himself."

The other man, Alodin, gave his friend a sad look. It astonished him how cold Hemme could be, ignoring the heartbreaking scene they just witnessed and not caring of the important duty they were assigned to.

Oh yes, the duty. Alodin looked down to the baby in his arms. She was a precious little thing, with delicate features and short strands of golden hair. He was just studying her green eyes as they closed for a long-overdue infant rest. Just like any other new born, she has yet to acknowledge her hands and legs, as they moved frenetically. The palm of her hand tangled in Alodin's long beard and he laughed warmly as he released it from her grasp.

"Little Beatrice, What are we to do with you?" Alodin asked, more to himself than anything, yet Hemme replied "Well, we should give her to someone, I believe there are plenty of brothels around here and they would be happy to receive a future worker for free."

"As much as the idea of selling a newborn as a whore appeals to me I think we should wait for a short time, see if the father of the child comes to claim her" he knew how pathetic his suggestion sound, Beatrice was probably a bastard, and no lord ever came back for his illegitimate children (and the number of bastards who arrived at the Citadel every day were a strong proof of that), and yet, the child was too young to have her fate doomed already.

"Deal with it yourself Alodin, there's no place for babies or girls, let alone both, in the Citadel." Hemme packed his equipment and left the room, leaving Alodin with the baby and the deceased mother.

Hemme was many things; Apathetic, arrogant, cruel even, but he wasn't stupid, and Alodin knew he was right. The child didn't belong in here, but surly it would have been better for her to stay here than anywhere else, so for now, the Citadel would have to do.


A/N: I'm not a native speaker, so I apologize for my mistakes, and would be glad to have them pointed out to me.