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Ups! Ten obraz nie jest zgodny z naszymi wytycznymi. Aby kontynuować, spróbuj go usunąć lub użyć innego.
Maester Kennet instructed the Lord Stark too try to reason with his wife to remain in bed rather than travel to King's Landing to see her father through his sickness. If she wasn't feeling so feverish, Daenys would've argued back. If she could, she'd take Meraxes and fly back to what she once called home. But the young princess – barely one and eight – contracted sickness once again. She was bed ridden for the next couple of days.
She named her children Daella and Jon. Twins born at the Hour of the Wolf; Jon was the elder of the two for a minute. Cregan was the first one to hold the babes before they were pressed against Daenys' chest. And though she hoped to feel peace and happiness when she finally heard her babe's cries, she couldn't feel anything else but hopelessness, anxiety and terror. She cried for hours. First, Cregan – as the rest – believed it was of joy, that she finally had the babies she so wished for. Until, the hours of the night turned in the early morning and she still felt the same emotions as before.
The crib was placed near the bed. Daenys laid on her side, her fingers gently tracing the chubby cheeks of Daella who laid closer to her mother's bed than Jon. Even when she thought of naming her Rhaenys, one look at the babe and she knew she was nothing but Daella. Sweet, innocent Daella.
There were tears that dried on her red cheeks, eyes swollen from crying. The doors opened quietly, only announced by the creak. She didn't look up to know it was Robb slowly moving towards the crib. His knees almost hit the wooden edge of it as he whispered, "how are you?"
She smiled tiredly not looking from where her fingers traced Daella's cheeks, "not sure."
Robb nodded, not saying anything. He quietly moved pass the crib to sit on the edge of the bed. Like an instinct, Daenys opened her arm and he slid closer to her. She wrapped the arm over the boy, his eyes watching the twins sleeping peacefully, unaware of the troubles their mother is experiencing, "are you scared?"
She nodded in the back of his head, "always."
"I'm sorry," he mumbled back.
"Do not be," she pressed a kiss on the back of his head, "it is not your fault."
