Chapter 18
OTTO HIGHTOWER
"I am sorry," and the whisper of his wife rang in his head, as the Maesters and the acolytes pushed him away, as she closed her eyes.
The joy from a few seconds ago turned into wails and lamentation as her face grew paler and paler, and he saw her life fade away in front of her eyes.
"Save her!" he screamed at Mellos, and the future Grandmaester buzzed around the room, his face and cloak now all covered in blood, which had soaked the sheets, and now dripped down on the floors.
"Mellos! Save her!" and he had never raised his voice like that in years, as he felt her hand grow cold in his grasp, as the bald man tried his best to save his wife's life.
She had just made him the happiest man in the world by giving him a son, but now she lay there, dying, and he was helpless to do anything.
"She is bleeding too much," Mellos whispered, and Otto had heard this tale a hundred times before, as he gazed at his wife once more, hoping for a miracle, when suddenly the doors to the room were thrown open.
"Where is she?" and a familiar voice screamed out, as his head snapped to the side, and he watched as his greatest nemesis strode into the room as if mocking his misfortune.
"Mother!" and his daughter's voice came as a gasp, as Otto stilled and saw that he had not come alone. That his daughter was with him, holding his hand, as tears slid down her face.
"What are you doing here?" Otto asked in rage as the young Healer Galen strode forward, his gaze focused on his bleeding and unconscious wife, and Otto had fully expected him to smile or smirk or jape, yet he spoke nothing.
Nothing at all.
"I asked you a ques..."
"A thin wineskin, boiled water, and a bottle of boiled wine," he listed off to a confused acolyte, who found himself staring between him and the Galen.
"Mother! Mother!" and Alicent had rushed past him, towards Alarie, and was now crying and holding her hand, as Galen screamed at the acolyte.
"GO! GET ME THOSE THINGS!" and the acolyte gulped and rushed out as he stepped forward, yet before he could come near the bed, Otto stepped in his path, as their gazes met finally.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, again, and before the boy could answer, his daughter screamed out from behind.
"Please! Save her! Save my mother," and he saw the young Healer raise a brow.
"Our differences aside, let me try to save your wife. If not for yourself then for your daughter," he heard him whisper, and Otto ground his teeth, cursing the Gods for putting him in the position.
Here stood the very man he had wronged years ago, standing tall and proud, offering him a chance to save his wife's life.
In the end, it was his daughter's screams that moved his legs, as he moved to the side and saw him step forward as he addressed Mellos.
"Have you located the bleed?" and the Maester shook his head, giving him a final glance, as Otto gave the man a nod.
"Let me try. You massage the uterus, and clean that wineskin with that alcohol," and the acolyte had finally gathered the things that he had asked for, and Mellos obeyed the command as Otto pushed him in his arm, as he closed his eyes, as blood gushed onto his face.
"It's done," Mellos answered as he saw him nod.
"I have found the bleed," he addressed, and the way Mellos's eyes widened, he was surprised or impressed as he reached for the wineskin and began to push it into her birth canal.
"What are you doing?" he asked, for he had neither read nor heard of something like this.
"I am going to inflate this wineskin, using water to put pressure on the source of the bleed," and then he saw him hold open its mouth as he began to push water into the wineskin, and it began to balloon up, and Otto watched for himself as the blood that had been gushing out of his wife suddenly stopped, and he passed it onto an acolyte before he quickly reached for her hand.
And while Otto had seen him work, he was awestruck at his movement and how he moved, for despite his age, his actions showed little to no hesitation, and while Mellos and the rest had begun to panic when blood had begun to pour out, he held none of that panic.
"She has lost too much blood," he heard him whisper as he turned towards the acolytes at the end of the table.
"Raise her legs, and massage her soles," he ordered, and by now the acolytes obeyed his word at once, and raised her legs, and began to massage them, as everyone held their breaths until a few minutes later, he saw her eyes move.
"Mother! Mother!" and he was not the only one as Alicent's screams tore through the room, as her wife's eyes began to quiver, as relief flooded his heart.
"Alarie," he gasped, as he reached for her hand, before suddenly he heard a stumble and looked to the side, and saw that the young Healer had fallen.
"AGHH!" and he grunted as he hit his head on the edge of the table, as he fell on the floor.
"Healer..." A few acolytes made to rush at him, but he stopped them.
"I am fine," he said even as Otto saw, blood drip down his fingers.
"I just stumbled," and his once clean robes were filled with blood, some fresh but much of it old, as Otto was suddenly reminded that this was not the only birth happening in the castle.
"Princess Aemma," he asked, cursing himself for forgetting about Prince Viserys and his wife.
"She is fine," he answered, hearing his words.
"She gave birth to a healthy and rather boisterous daughter," and the whole room cheered at those words, as he pushed himself back up, and Otto realised that he had rushed here from that room.
"You need to make her drink water. A lot of water," he said to Mellos, who nodded.
"I know," the future Grand Maester whispered.
"You should go and rest. I can handle the rest here," he whispered, and he nodded and moved to the door once more.
"Thank you," the words slipped out of his mouth as he looked back at him.
"But this changes nothing," he whispered, and those eyes narrowed.
"I know...."
0000
ALYSANNE HIGHTOWER
For years now, death and tragedy had gripped the Targaryen family. She had watched helplessly as her daughters had died and her grandchildren had lost child after child to the birthing bed, and now, after years of pain and suffering, the Crown finally had a reason to celebrate.
After three consecutive stillbirths, the Seven had finally taken mercy on the family and had blessed their family with a young and beautiful Princess.
"Have you thought of a name?" she asked as she sat beside Daela's daughter, as Aemma replied weakly.
"We were thinking of naming her Daenerys," and the name brought up old memories of her own first child, and sadness hit her, but she nodded in the end.
"It is a good name," and it was indeed, it was why she had chosen it for their first child. But the Gods had not cared for it, and had taken her from them nonetheless.
In her age, she could not bear to see the struggles and pains of childbirth, and so she had stayed in her own room, hearing but whispers of Aemma's screams and shouts, being helpless to do anything except pray.
And she had prayed much, for her labors had lasted for more than half a day, and given the blood that covered the sheets and the floors, the prayers were needed.
"Where is Galen?" she asked, for she had heard how it had been he who had made this entire thing possible, yet he was nowhere to be seen.
"He delivered the child, but then left in quite a hurry," and it was Viserys who answered, and that was strange.
"Why?"
"He went to help Lady Alarie, Ser Otto's wife," and that made her stop for a moment, for she did indeed know that Alarie Hightower had entered her own labors a few hours after the Princess, but there was no way that Otto Hightower would ever call for him.
"Dear Alicent came running to the room, and begged him to come and save her mother," Aemma added, and yet there was no secret that Otto had wronged Galen, and that the two of them were bitter rivals at court.
"And he went?" she confirmed once more, when the doors to the room slid open once more and the young man in question returned to the Princess's chambers, his steps weary and his face a mirror of his tiredness.
"I apologise for leaving in such haste," he came and spoke to Viserys and Aemma, who both shook their head.
"You need not apologise, Healer," Aemma whispered as Viserys joined in.
"You have given me the greatest gift I could hope for, I should be thanking you," and the young Healer shook his head.
"I did only my duty," and he had yet to turn to her, when suddenly Aemma asked about the Lady Alarie.
"What became of Lady Alarie?" she asked, and she was also intrigued by the fate of Ser Otto's wife.
"It was complicated. She was bleeding too much, but I was able to stop the bleeding and stabilise her enough. She will need to be careful, but hopefully she will survive," and he spoke with little pride or vindictive anger as he spoke of his rival's wife.
"You saved her?" she asked, as he finally turned towards her and nodded.
"I did," yet she is the wife of your enemy.
"You saved Otto Hightower's wife," she asked again, and she saw his eyes narrow as he understood her insinuation and answered accordingly.
"I saved a woman's life, who she was and is does not matter. Not to me," and she had thought his words when he had saved Gael, as simple ideals, but was beginning to understand that there was more to them.
"Well, putting that aside, I came here to warn you, Princess," he began and turned towards Aemma.
"You may have passed the tribulations of the birthing bed, but the next few moons will not be easy for you," and he saw Aemma nod at his words.
"I understand," and he shook his head as he walked forward.
"No, you really don't. I had to break your bones and cut the skin around your birth canal to make it so that you could give birth to the Princess," and she frowned at his words, for she had never heard of something like that.
"What do you mean by that?" she asked.
"As I previously mentioned, the Princess pelvis is simply too narrow to allow a child's head to pass through it. During labor, the joint between the two pelvic bones becomes loose naturally to allow the passage of the head. I simply used that laxity and dislocated the joint further to make room for the head to pass," and that was good.
"And what of the cut?"
"It's just a cut, to the side of the canal, one that I gave myself to help the babe's head come out. I have stitched it with silken sutures, but it will need time to heal, and shall require great care," and that was all new.
"Have you done this before?" she asked, and he nodded.
"A few times," and it was Aemma who cut in.
"You can speak to the maids. Tell them what I need to do, and I shall do it," and he nodded.
"I will," and with that, he sighed, and she could see him tiring.
"You should go and rest," she ordered as she rose from her chair.
"I can see you stumbling," and he nodded, and as she walked past him, she stopped.
"And be certain that the Crown will not forget your actions today...."
.
.
.
And late into the night, the King sat with his son in his solar as the castle itself prepared itself for a Grand feast.
"He did it," Balon Targaryen repeated in joy and pride as the Old King nodded.
"No. He went beyond that," he repeated, for he had not just given the realm a Princess, he had also saved the life of a Hightower.
"Do you think this could help us mend ties with the Hightowers?" and while that would have been ideal, Jaehaerys had learned to be not that hopeful.
"No, this could buy us time, but only that," and even that was but a mere possibility.
"But this allows you to support him openly," and that it did, for Galen had given the Crown a Princess, and it would reflect poorly upon them if he were not richly rewarded for it.
"It does, but only until he does not stumble," and he would stumble, one way or another.
And the whole realm shall be waiting to pounce upon him on that day.
0000
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