They do not let her see the babe. The small, sweet thing that had been pushed from her womb still and silent. She will be given no name, she will not be remembered as anything other then one of the many stillborn babes Rhaella has given birth to. But despite this Rhaella will mourn her child.

Her sweet little dragon babe that would have brought such joy had she lived.

"My Queen?" Pycelle's voice tears through Rhaella's grief like a savage beast.

Let me see my baby! She wants to scream, let me name her at least.

Elaehra would have been such a lovely name.

"The King must be told." Rhaella whispers, tone hollow even to her own ears.

It will not be pretty, this she knows.

Rhaella has given him an heir. A healthy, strong heir with the Tarygeryen beauty and the potential for madness lingering in his blood. Rhaegar. Her gentle eyed boy. Her only living child of four. And Rhaella is thankful for her son's survival. Seven years old and the longer he lives the less Aerys desires a male heir. The longer Rhaegar lives the more Aerys strives for a daughter. A sister-wife, a girl of pure Valyrian blood who will wed her dragon brother.

And he will not be pleased to learn that another babe has died.

A girl at that.

Rhaella closes her eyes, tries not to think of the pain that will follow when Aerys next visits her.

"Yes, my Queen."

Pycelle leaves Rhaella to her sorrow, making sure to take the dead babe with him.

Proof for the King and his court or for Rhaella's comforts the Queen isn't sure.

But as the door closes and the silence become stiffing Rhaella allows the tears that have been building to fall.

~X~

Cassana cries out, fingers clenching around the thin blanket covering the birthing bed, sweat dripping down her nose.

This birth is harder than her last ones. Distantly, Cassana wonders if her babe will be deformed or dead when it finally makes it way from between her legs. She hopes not. Cassana loves this babe as she loves Robert and Stannis. The thought of this babe coming into the world dead makes something in Cassana clench.

"You're doing well, my Lady!" The new maestor, Kollion if Cassana heard correctly, encourages.

But his eyes are wary and his brow is furrowed.

Cassana squares her jaw, rolls back her shoulders, and pushes.

She will not die in this bed. Her babe will not die here either. Cassana will give birth to a healthy babe, boy or girl, and she will love her child no matter what shape it takes. Deformed or no, ugly or beautiful. It will be her babe and Cassana will love it just as she loves Robert and Stannis.

Cassana's agony bleeds into her voice as she screams.

"I see the head, my Lady!"

The tears that pour from her eyes mix with the sweat dampening her cheeks.

Just a bit more, she tells herself, just a bit more.

It's almost unbearable, this pain. So unlike the pain she felt during the birth of her sons. Her old Septa would have claimed that it was a sign. Would have claimed that Cassana's babe was going to be a warrior. Strong and fierce and untamable.

Cassana always thought Ayleen's teachings were a load of horse shit... But at this rate Cassana certainly wouldn't be surprised if her old Septa was right about such things.

And when the dark haired Lady's screams are drowned out by the wail of a babe Cassana can't help the relief that floods through her.

Alive. Alive and well.

"A girl, my Lady." Kollion says.

"Is she healthy?" Cassana demands, lifting up a bit more to look at the babe in the Maester's arms.

All she can see is a mess of white blankets and Kollion's smiling eyes.

"Healthy and hardy, my Lady."

"I want to hold her. Please."

Let me see my babe.

Kollion nods once before moving to stand at Cassana's side. One of the attending maids helps her sit back against the headboard and pillows, and once she's settled Kollion reaches out to place her babe, her daughter, in her arms.

She's beautiful.

Dark skinned, like Cassana and her brothers, with a patch of dark curls atop her head and unsettled eyes that will either end up being the glorious blue of the Baratheon's or the gentle brown of the Estermonts. Her features are still relatively undefined, and maybe Cassana is biased, but she thinks that this little girl could one day grow to have a face to send entire continents into war.

"I will inform Lord Baratheon." Kollion says, motioning for the maids to follow.

Cassana doesn't even acknowledge him, too busy memorizing the curve of her daughter's nose and the feel of her tiny fingers gripping Cassana's finger.

The door to the birthing room closes with a gentle click.

"You," Cassana whispers, "are absolutely beautiful."

Her babe cries out, for food or for some other reason Cassana isn't sure. But she pulls her daughter close and presses gentle kisses against pink flesh. Her daughter fusses, cries, her little fingers tightening around sweat soaked hair.

She pulls, hard, and Cassa winces.

"You need a name." Cassana says, carefully removing her daughter's fingers. "Something strong, just as strong as you."

But what to name her? Something of Baratheon origins to be sure.

Perhaps Melinsa, or Beylee, or Teliya.

Cassana shakes her head.

None of those.

"Ostara." Cassana decides after a long moment. "You will be Ostara."

And the babe in her arms doesn't seem to have understood.

Cassana never expected her too.

~X~

"She is healthy?" Steffon demands, staring down at the babe tucked safely in his arms.

Kollion nods slowly. "As healthy as your last."

Steffon nods slowly before turning his attention back to Ostara. Cassana isn't sure what her Lordly husband thinks of his daughter, oh, she's certain Steffon doesn't hate the babe... But she is not a male and therefor cannot continue the Baratheon name.

But they have two sons already.

The Baratheon line will not end with Ostara and thus Steffon will have no true reason to hate her.

"What is her name?" Steffon asks, eyes drifting from Ostara to Cassana, something like hesitant devotion shining in his brilliantly blue gaze.

"I have named her Ostara." Cassana replies, still tired from the long hours spent in labor.

Ostara Baratheon, first of her name.

Cassana likes the sound of it.

Apparently, Steffon does too. Because he nods his head and offers a small smile to the babe in his arms before passing her over to the wet nurse. Cassana bites back the urge to rip her daughter from the woman's grasp.

"Are you well, my love?"

"I'm tired."

"I would suspect so... Kollion said Ostara's birth was harder than the others."

"Harder, yes. Unbearable, no."

"I'm glad to hear."

Steffon lowers himself into the seat beside Cassana's bed. Soon she will be moved, helped from the birthing chamber to the chambers she and Steffon share. But she's still a bit too weak and it would be unwise to move her in such a state. So Steffon sits and smiles down at at her before offering her a cup of water that Kollion has left for them.

"The boys will be excited." Steffon says, reaching out to curl his fingers around her own.

"You've told them then," Cassana remarks, "about their sister."

"Robert is already declaring to be her sworn shield."

"He's five... Does he even know what that means?" Cassana laughs.

"Apparently, he's already demanding that I let him see the two of you."

"And Stannis?" Cassana asks.

"Annoyed with Robert, I'd reckon. He's so used to being alone and now that you've given birth, and I'm with you, Stannis is spending more time with Robert now then he has in the three years of his life." Steffon chortles.

Cassana smiles, dropping her head back to rest against the headboard.

"He'll be fine." Cassana decides.

"Yes... I think this will be good for him. Robert might teach the boy to have fun."

Cassana laughs a bit at that but doesn't say anything.

Beyond the walls of Storm's End the sea rages and the sky screams.

A storm unlike anything those of the Storm Lands have ever before witnessed.

And the magic that swirls in the air, the magic that causes the waves to beat against the cliff side and the thunder to shake the very foundations of the Keep, goes unnoticed to all save the small babe who suckles at her wet nurse's breast and the shadowing creature lingering in the corner nearest the door.

The creature that smells of carrion flowers. The creature that gazes upon Ostara as if seeing an old friend.

The tall, shadow creature that holds a silver haired babe tightly in his grasp.

~X~

The news of Ostara Baratheon's birth reaches King's Landing within a week and Rhaella fings herself conflicted. She's glad for Cassana, it's terrible to lose a babe and she would not wish that pain on anyone... But she's also angry. Because that could have been her. Why was't it her? She and Lady Baratheon are not so different. They did everything right, the Maesters kept their eyes on the growth of the children, they did what they were told to do and ate what was expected of them.

So why did Elaehra die while Ostara lives?

Rhaella swallows thickly.

Aerys will not be pleased.

He's already visited her, the proof hidden beneath creams from Essos and the silks of her gown. If he becomes angry with the birth of the Baratheon girl... His treatment of Rhaella will not be merciful. Especially when the Baratheons and Targaryens share blood. Frankly, Aerys has always been a suspicious man and it's no secret he favors Steffon due to the small bit of Targaryen blood flowing in the man's veins, which will make any suspected betrayals all the worse.

With a sigh Rhaella places her sewing to the side, opting instead to sit and enjoy the summer wind that carries the scent of wet dirt and roses to Rhaella's nose.

It's been the first time in days that Rhaella has been able to step foot outside the keep due to the terrible storm that had rolled across the land. Even now there are patches of wet ground littering the gardens.

Rhaella thinks it's... Pleasant.

But a quick glance up a the sky has Rhaella frowning. In the far distance she can just see the rolling black clouds that make up the skies of the Storm Lands as of late. Which Rhaella finds oddly amusing for a number of reasons. However, it would appear that the storms developing in the Storm Lands will soon make their way to King's Landing and Rhaella sighs.

She's grown rather tired of rain and chill.

With a sigh the Queen stands, barely noting that Sir Gerold Hightower has moved to rest a hand on his blade, and gathers her sewing.

And her King's Guard Knight says nothing as Rhaella leads them back into the Red Keep.

Back to the husband who will have likely been informed of Ostara Baratheon's birth.