Chapter 17
GAEL TARGARYEN
Gael had never thought that the art of healing would involve so much studying. It had been a month now since she had mentioned her desire to learn about the art of healing, and ever since that day, all that she had done in that regard was read and memorize.
She had thought that Galen would teach her to mix medicine, cure diseases, and heal ailments, but most of her days were spent reading about the human body and what it was made of and how it worked.
It was all rather fascinating, reading about the heart, the lungs, and the various other 'organs' and how they functioned, and it somewhat surprised her that the very act of saving her from drowning had involved such vast knowledge and grasp over the many aspects of the human body.
She sat in her solar as the young Healer Galen sat in front of a skin of various fruits, playing with them as he came to test her. It was tradition that he would come and visit once every week to test her and give her the next lessons, and mostly he would simply sit there and sip his tea or eat, but today he had brought with him a strange box filled with even stranger contraptions and had asked for some peels and skins from the fruits.
"I never thought that healing would involve so much memorization," she whispered with some petulance, and Galen replied without turning back.
"Well then, you thought wrong," he whispered, still engrossed in his little task as Gael sighed and closed off the book.
"Still, how can one remember all of this, and what use does it even have?" and in the end, what did it matter how the heart beat, and how the lungs helped one breathe, or how the blood moved around their body.
"Well, most people don't really remember all of it, but the knowledge can help you make quick decisions and make new discoveries and theories," and the texts were full of them, and the author of these books had theorised over several aspects, offering his insights on mysteries and secrets that yet remained unanswered.
"Who even wrote this book?" and unlike the books and tomes of the Royal library, it seemed rather new, with its pages being white and ink still holding all of its color.
She opened the first page, and her eyes widened as she saw the name written under the title.
"Galen," she gasped, as her head snapped towards the young Healer in surprise.
"You wrote this," and he nodded.
"Yes, I did," and that was a surprise to her.
"So that you remember everything in the book," she asked, and he shrugged, still engrossed in his work.
"Yes," and that had to be a lie, for no man or woman should be able to remember it all.
"Then can I test you?" he asked, and for some reason, he chuckled. As he asked her to do just that, Gael opened the texts once more and began to ask him questions, just as he had done for her. And he was right again, and again, and again.
It lasted for half an hour, and Gael found herself filled with doubt as she closed the tome, dejected and afraid of what she had begun studying, for she could spend years, and even then, she would not be able to memorize all this.
"How?" she gasped, and he finally moved his chair and turned towards her, and for the first time, there was a hint of joy and mischief in his gaze as he answered.
"You Dragonlords aren't the only ones with powers," and she did not understand what he meant by that, as her gaze landed on the table and saw the fruit skins lying there, along with some scissors and so forth.
"Are you sewing the skins?" she asked, standing up and walking up to the table.
"Yes," he answered, and the skins had been cut, and then the edges had been sewn together with various knots, and her years of training under the Septa allowed her to spot the various types of knots.
She hesitated for a second before adding slowly.
"We have a seamstress in the castle," she began, as he chuckled, and it was her first time hearing him laugh. For some reason, she found it childish and boyish, much different than his usual demeanor that exuded elegance and propriety.
"I am not practising for sewing clothes," he answered as he showed her what seemed to be a mandarin peel skin that he had sewn together.
"It's for practising suturing the skin," and she had heard about it, but this was something new.
"Skin?" she asked, and he nodded.
"Yeah, edges of the skin, if brought together under the right condition, can aid in healing, but the truth is that it is not only skin that we can suture," and then he looked her in the eye, and it was as if she was staring at his father's when he talked of the realm and the laws.
"Bowels, heart, vessel, and so much more, tendons and so forth," and some time ago those words would have meant nothing to her, but now she understood exactly what he spoke of, even though she could hardly imagine it.
"Can I try this?" she asked, for she felt that she would be better at it, or at least better than she was at memorizing those long texts.
"Sure, but this is not like regular sewing," and so he stood up, and helped her hold the special scissors, and the crooked needle, as Gael realised that perhaps she had thought wrong.
But as she sat there, trying to make a straight stitch, the darkness of her lost child, and loss lay long forgotten, and two days later, the Princess Aemma's labors began, and sometime after that, Lady Alarie Hightower followed after the Princess as well.
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HEALER GALEN
If there were any parameters or conditions that could go wrong for a birth, they had gone wrong for Princess Aemma.
"AHHHHHHH!" and as she screamed once more, as sweat dripped down his brow, he still saw no head at all, before the woman suddenly stopped, and began to gasp.
"I can't," she whimpered, as the woman tried to encourage her.
But she was spent, and Galen knew that he would have to do something. In this day and age, there was little known about obstetric complications. The Maesters considered the handling of childbirth as beneath them, and rarely would a Maester ever delve more into the subject.
But the truth was that it was a rather complex process, one that involved nearly a hundred variables, each of which needed to be mined and handled carefully before a decision could be made.
The Princess in front of her needed a modern Cesarean section, and the sad truth was that despite his push, he was unable to make all the preparations needed to do it, and so he had no choice but to rely on more crude methods.
"I can't. I can't," she whimpered, as Galen bit his lip.
"Give me my scissors, and push back her legs," he commanded the two maids working beside him, as they rushed to follow his command.
"And what exactly would that accomplish?" the voice of the aged Grand Maester came from behind.
"The Princess is spent," the old man added, and he saw the Prince's face pale at those words, for he knew what the old man was about to say next.
"You need to make a decision to save one or the other," and indeed, the labor had lasted for over half a day now, and everyone in the room was clearly exhausted, the thin and frail Princess most of all.
"Galen," the Prince Viserys called out to him, and Galen saw both fear and despair in that gaze as he shook his head.
"No," he declared as he gazed at the Princess once more.
"Once more," he whispered to her.
"Just bear with me once more. This will be painful, but I need you to gather your strength and push with everything that you have once more," and the haggard woman nodded, as he helped the maids push back her legs as much as they could, before he reached for her mons and pushed down on it, until he heard a crack, as he cracked her pubic joint.
"AGHHH!" she screamed as he grabbed the newly forged forceps and asked her to push once more.
"Now," and she screamed in agony, as the Prince whispered encouragements in her ear, and the broken pelvis finally gave way, as he spotted the babe's head.
"Scissors!" he screamed as the maid handed them to him, and just as he was about to give her an episiotomy, the Maester screamed from behind.
"What do you think you are doing!" and the man grabbed his hand, and as the Princess continued to scream, he pulled away his hand.
"Let me do my duty!" he screamed at the old Maester.
"To cut a woman's skin, you could cause her great harm," and he could, if he did not know exactly what he was doing.
"Let him do what he wants, Elysar!" the Prince ordered as he heard his wife's energy drain away, as her scream grew weaker and weaker as Galen quickly made a cut, downwards and sidewards, as blood spilt on the sheets, but the canal widened just enough that she was able to nudge the babe's head forward by a few more inches.
"I can see the Head! I can see the Head now!" the maid whispered in joy and relief, but he saw what she did not.
"Aemma! Aemma!" the Prince screamed, and it seemed like she had run out of energy at last, and so he moved swiftly as he picked up the forceps, and slid them up carefully, as he extended them around the babe's head, and then locked them in.
"Aemma! Aemma!" the Prince continued to shake her, but she would not wake as Galen pulled at the babe's head, as it slowly slid out of the birth canal, as the whole room sighed in relief.
And one glance at the genitalia told him that the Prince was wrong and that the child was another girl. A rather quiet and conspicuous girl who was barely whimpering.
"Look at all that blood! Look at what you have done to the Princess," Elysar whispered from behind, as blood gushed out of the cut he had made, as he tied off the babe's cord, and put it onto the Princess's belly.
Her pulse was weak and thready, but she was alive, as the Prince rose from her side and gazed at the child.
"It's a daughter, my Prince," and there was pure joy in those eyes as he caressed her whimpering babe, but Galen had his eyes focused on the Princess and the blood coming out of her wound.
"Clothes!" and he immediately began to clean up the blood before he reached for his needle and thread, and slowly began to sew the layers of skin, muscle, and mucosa. It was delicate stitching, one that would need care and attention, and before he was done with it, one of the maids spoke up.
"The babe! It's turning blue!" and immediately his heart sank, as the joy in the room vanished as he glanced up.
"What?" and the Prince gasped, as Cassius saw that indeed the whimpers had grown weaker and the babe was turning blue.
"Heal..." but he was moving before the Prince had said anything, and held in his hands a small rubber globe, and put it into the child's mouth as he pushed it and slowly sucked out the liquid from the babe's airways.
It took a few seconds, and then a few slaps, and pushing until the babe jerked and began to cry in full.
"AGHHH!" "AHHH!" and the whole room gave a sigh of relief at the strong cry, as Galen held the Princess in his hands.
"You have done it! You have done it!" the Prince gasped in joy, as his eyes began to water and he saw the Princess finally rouse up, wincing and whimpering as she slowly flickered her eyes.
"My lady," he called out, and the Prince turned towards her as well, as Galen stepped forward and showed her the Princess.
"Is tha..." and her voice was frail and weak, as Galen showed him her daughter.
And despite her pains and weakness, her motherly instincts won as she spread her arms, slowly cajoled her into her arms, and began to weep.
"My daughter," she cried, as he slid back and began to work on the stitches once more, and just as he finished the last stitch and was about to sit down, he heard a scream from the outside.
"Help! Help," and he glanced back, and could hear a few guards shouting as well, when suddenly the doors slid open, and the person who jumped into the room was a girl with a pale face and fiery brown hair.
"Healer! Healer! You have to help mother..." and despite his tiredness and history with her father, Galen jumped to his feet once more at the words of a young Alicent Hightower.
"Where!" he asked, as she saw tears slipping down her face, as she pointed towards the corridor.
"Her room!" and Galen simply rushed out of the room, forgetting everything that her father and her family had done to him, for in the end, he was a Healer.
And a Healer held no grudges.
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