As ward of the Queen, Camilla Tully was raised alongside the Princess, Rhaenyra, and the Hand of the King's daughter, Alicent. The three were rarely seen apart, where one was the other two would not be found far. That is until Queen Aemma died and t...
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The light blues and purples of her wardrobe had been thrown out, replaced by harsh reds and blacks. The colors of her husband's house, the house that had raised her. She was no longer the Lady Camilla, unwanted by her own house, now she was Queen Camilla, the King's chosen bride and mother of his children.
Eight months after the royal wedding bloody screams had echoed through the halls of the Red Keep. Once again their Queen had gone into labor, the small folk prayed to the Mother for the young wife to meet a better fate than her predecessor. The maesters and midwives worried for her, whispering how it was too early, too soon.
Tears streamed down Camilla's cheeks as her muscles tensed, her body trying to force out the babe. Camilla cried and screamed, begging for it to be over, begging for her life. Fear filled Camilla, fear for her child and for herself. She didn't want to meet the same fate of her aunt, she wanted the ability to hold her babe.
In the distance Camilla registered the sound of a door opening and yelling. She didn't pay it any mind, too caught up in the pain of childbirth. Two sets of hands grabbed her own, as voices called her name.
Camilla's eyes fluttered open to see Alicent and Rhaenyra on either side of her. Midwives and maesters pleaded with the young women to leave, saying how improper it was. But Alicent and Rhaenyra stayed where they were, whispering encouraging words to Camilla.
"You're here." Camilla panted. "Why are you here?"
"We couldn't very well let you do this alone." Alicent spoke, smiling down on her friend.
"Thank you," Camilla cried, a new set of tears burning in her eyes as she smiled.
"Keep breathing." A midwife instructed, breaking the close friends from their moment. "And push."
Camilla wept from the pain of labor. Wishing for it to be over already.
"And again."
"I c- I can't."
"Yes you can, Camilla." Rhaenyra urged.
The Queen grit her teeth as she pushed, exhausting all her muscles in an effort to bring her child into the world.
"The head!" A young midwife called excitedly.
Camilla groaned as she pushed again, moaning with pain as cries filled the room.
"Praise the mother!" The midwives cried as one of the women swept the babe into her arms. Camilla breathed in relief, holding her arms out for her child. The babe was wrapped in a red blanket, only its scrunched up face showing.
"Healthy?" Camilla asked, relief flooding her at the midwife's nod.
"A girl, Your Grace."
"A girl?" Rhaenyra breathed, staring down at what was supposed to be her sibling.
