𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐈𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐀𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

Fallen Angel

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SEVERAL MONTHS LATER
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Daenera sat on the edge of her bed, her hands resting on her swollen belly. She was now in her sixth month of pregnancy, and it had been far from an easy journey. The maester suspected she was carrying twins, and carrying two babies at once had proven to be a challenge for her body.

She had been plagued with morning sickness for the first few months, unable to keep anything down. Her appetite had vanished, and she had lost weight instead of gaining it. She had pushed through the nausea, forcing herself to eat small meals throughout the day to keep her strength up.

But that was just the beginning of her troubles. As her pregnancy progressed, she developed a nagging pain in her lower back that refused to go away. It made it difficult for her to sleep at night, leaving her feeling exhausted during the day.

To make matters worse, she had been experiencing dizzy spells that left her feeling lightheaded and disoriented. The maester and midwives had assured her that it was normal, but it still worried her.

Daenera took a deep breath and rubbed her belly soothingly. She knew she had to stay strong for her babies. She couldn't let her discomfort and pain get in the way of the precious lives growing inside of her.

But as the weeks went by, her health continued to decline. She became increasingly fatigued, and even the simplest tasks left her breathless. She had to rely on Aemond, Helaena, and her handmaidens to help her with everything from getting dressed to just moving around.

As she entered her eighth month of pregnancy, Daenera knew that the end was near. But instead of feeling excited and eager to meet her babies, she was filled with anxiety and fear. She knew that the birth would be difficult, and she worried about the health of her babies.

But despite her fears, she refused to give up. She knew that she was strong enough to make it through the final stretch of her pregnancy. She took comfort in the knowledge that soon she would hold her precious twins in her arms, and all of the pain and discomfort would be worth it.

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As the sun began to set over King's Landing, Daenera could feel the first twinges of labor pains. She knew that the time had finally come for her to give birth to her child.

She called for her midwife, a wise woman who had delivered many babies in King's Landing. The midwife arrived quickly and began to prepare Daenera for the birth. She lit candles around the room and filled a basin with warm water.

Aemond paced nervously back and forth in the corner of the room. He had never felt so helpless in his life. He knew that childbirth was a dangerous and unpredictable process, and he prayed to the gods that his wife and children would be safe.

As the contractions grew stronger, Daenera clung to the bedpost and gritted her teeth. Helaena encouraged her to breathe deeply and push with all her strength.

Daenera lay on the bed, sweat pouring down her face as she cried out in pain. She had been in labor for hours, and it seemed as though the babies would never come.

Aemond stood by her side, holding her hand and whispering words of encouragement. But even he looked worried, and she knew that something was wrong.

"It's not working, Aemond," she gasped, her voice strained with pain. "The baby won't come."

Aemond looked at her, his eyes filled with concern. "I know, Danny. But we have to keep trying. The maester said that you're strong, that you can do this."

But even as he spoke, she knew that something was not right. The pain was too much, and she felt as though her body was giving up. He wiped the sweat from her forehead and whispered words of love and comfort.

And then, suddenly, there was a cry. A cry that filled the room and brought tears to both of their eyes.

"It's a boy!" the maester said, holding up the tiny, red-faced baby.

For a moment, there was joy in the room. They had a son, a child that was the product of their love.

But then the maester's expression changed, and Daenera knew that something was wrong.

"He's not breathing," he said, his voice filled with urgency.

She let out a heart-wrenching sob as the midwives tried desperately to revive the baby. Aemond stood by her side, his own face etched with pain and sorrow. They had been so excited to welcome their twins into the world, but now their joy had turned to grief.

As the midwives worked on the first baby, Daenera struggled to deliver the second. Her body was exhausted, but she pushed with all her might, determined to bring her baby into the world. Finally, with one last effort, the second baby was born, a healthy, squirming boy.

She let out a cry of relief and joy, but it was tinged with sadness. She had lost one of her babies, and the grief was almost too much to bear. Aemond held her close, his arms a source of comfort as they mourned the loss of their child.

"My baby." She cried. Suddenly, she felt her head become light and lost consciousness.

"Daenera?" Aemond said, shaking her. His mind raced with fear and worry. His wife lay motionless on the birthing bed, her once-beautiful face now pale and drained of color. "Help her!"

The midwife and her attendants moved about the room, their hushed whispers, and urgent movements only adding to Aemond's growing panic.

The midwife hesitated before speaking, but he knew before she even spoke that the news would not be good. "She is...not well, my lord," the midwife said softly. "She lost a great deal of blood during the birth. We are doing all we can, but...we fear for her life."

Aemond felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead as he took in the midwife's words. He had never felt so helpless before in his life. He had always been a strong and capable warrior, but in this moment, he was powerless to save the woman he loved.

He knelt beside Daenera's bed, taking her limp hand in his. Her skin was cold to the touch, and he could feel his heart breaking as he looked upon her. "Please, my love," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "Please, wake up. Our son needs you...I need you."

For what seemed like an eternity, Aemond knelt beside Daenera's bed, praying for her to wake up. And then, suddenly, it happened. Her eyelids fluttered, and she let out a weak groan as she slowly regained consciousness. Aemond's heart leaped with hope as he saw the color returning to her cheeks.

"The baby... I want to see him." She whispered.

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Daenera held her lifeless baby boy in her arms, tears streaming down her face as she looked down at his tiny body.

She cradled him gently, unable to tear her eyes away from his peaceful face. He looked so perfect, so innocent, and yet he would never take a breath or feel the warmth of the sun on his skin. Her heart ached with a pain she had never known before.

She looked up at Aemond, his face etched with sorrow.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, his voice filled with emotion.

Daenera shook her head, unable to find the words to express the depth of her grief. She simply held her lifeless baby closer, her tears falling onto his tiny face.

Aemond took her other hand, his grip gentle yet firm. "We'll get through this together," he said, his voice steady. "We still have one beautiful boy to raise, and we'll do it together."

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with pain and love. She knew that he was right, that they had to stay strong for their surviving son. But the loss of their other baby was a wound that would never fully heal.

She leaned into Aemond's embrace, holding her lifeless baby close to her heart. She knew that she would never forget him, that he would always hold a special place in her heart, even as she watched her other son grow and thrive.

And as she held her lifeless baby, she knew that she would love him always, even as she mourned the future that they would never share. But something else came into her mind. What if she could resurrect him? She asked herself.