"Childbed is a woman's battle."
No matter how many times Jaime heard that, he still wasn't prepared for the screams or the bloodied sheets being carried out of his mother's room.
Father had stood stoically the entire time she screamed through the stone walls, though his twitching fingers betrayed him. Cersei kept flinching as she prayed her way through the seven-pointed star, over and over again. That morning, she had told him that she doesn't want to give birth and wished that she was a boy. He thinks that she has said that before, but his mind refuses to remember the exact written words from a lifetime ago.
Jaime has been muttering his own prayers, but once he ran out of them, he was left to fidget by his father's side. Uncle Gerion has tried to cheer him up, but Jaime could barely hear the words coming out of his mouth.
Was this the moment that he was going to lose his mother?
Was he really going to have to listen to the kind woman who loved him and cared for him, raising him gently and sternly, died due to the hate of another? Was he really going to have to just watch as Tyrion was condemned for the act of being born and having his mother bleed out?
No.
The moments blurred together until he heard the sharp wails of a babe being born.
"The babe lives," Tygett seemed shocked.
"Another child, brother," Kevan placed a hand on Tywin's shoulder. "Congratulations."
Father looked relieved, but that undercurrent of worry still ran through him. They had all heard Alanna say that any child would likely be disabled. Jaime knew that Tyrion would be just fine, but he couldn't say that, so instead he grabbed his father's hand.
Tywin looked down at him, something flickering in his eyes before steeling. His father squeezed his hand lightly before looking back in the direction of where his wife was laboring.
This part was quicker, only a few short minutes before Genna was opening the door and called his father inside.
"Not yet," she stopped Cersei from going in after him.
"Sister?" Gerion asked, seeing the sad look on Genna's face.
"Joanna has a fever, but it is mild and the midwife thinks it is treatable." She hugged herself, "However… her womb is scarred and now barren. The babe is deformed. A dwarf."
Gerion spat, "If I could kill that rat again, I would."
"Come here," Kevan opened his arms and pulled his younger sister close to comfort her.
Genna and Joanna were always close, the two ladies were closer than sisters. Genna and Joanna were two halves of a coin, raising their children together and running the Rock together. Jaime didn't know if ignorance or knowledge would have been kinder to Genna.
"A dwarf?" Cersei asked, childish high-pitched voice sounding almost angelic. "Some imp beastie? I have a beast for a sibling? Did it claw her and hurt her?"
"Cersei!" Tygett sharply reprimanded his sister, "It is not the babe's fault. The traitor did this."
"Tyrion is just as much a victim as mother," Jaime told her. "Creylen poisoned them both. You wouldn't say that I'm at fault if he had cut off my hand."
Cersei didn't look like she paid attention to a single thing he said. "Tyrion?" She questioned.
Good job, Jaime, look at your big mouth. Nobody wants a creepy Bran Stark kid spewing weird facts, you'll lose all your friends that way.
"Mother said she liked the name," He said defensively. "And the babe sounds like a boy."
"How can a babe sound like a boy? You sound like a girl."
Jaime rolled his eyes, "We're twins, Cersei. We sound, and look, the same."
"Children," Gerion softly interrupted.
They looked up at him, immediately painting their faces with innocence as to avoid being told off.
He just looked amused, "You can go inside now."
Jaime looked over, and there was Kevan's wife, the Lady Dorna, holding the door open patiently.
Jaime didn't wait for them to ask twice.
Joanna Lannister looked sweaty, exhausted, and far too pale, but she was alive. "My cubs," She rasped out when they went straight to her bedside.
"Mother!" Cersei cried out, trying to crawl onto the bed beside her. It was Jaime who gently stopped her from potentially hurting their mother.
"Children," Tywin said coldly. "You have a new brother."
He was disappointed and furious but relieved that his wife was still alive. "His name is Tyrion. He is proof of the strength of our house, do you understand? A lion does not die from an arrow or poison, much less one from a sheep. You will protect him, as myself and my siblings protect each other."
That's… a far warmer reception to Tyrion's existence than Jaime was expecting.
"I promise, father," Jaime swore.
Cersei yelped as Tyrion gripped her finger that had begun digging into the blankets that hid him from the cool air.
"He's mangled, but strong," She said. Jaime knew that she didn't mean it cruelly, just a bit too blunt.
"He's a lion," He corrected her kindly.
"My three little cubs," Their mother agreed, weakly reaching out. "Ty… let me feed him."
"Oh, no, mi'lady," Alanna swooped in and stopped her from taking the babe. "It's best if the milknurse takes him. Feeding him will weaken you, and you need your energy."
She looked disappointed, but from the way that her eyes were flickering shut already, she had no ability to argue.
"Don't need to be passing on fevers neither," Alanna shook her head. "Jeyne, take the babe. Mi'lord, I suggest you leave your lady wife to rest now. I've got her, this battle won't be lost easily."
Father's face at being dismissed in his own castle was comical, but Alanna was already walking away with Tyrion in hand.
"I like her," Gerion chuckled, eyeing the midwife.
Genna grabbed her youngest brother by the shoulder and turned him around, pushing him toward the door. "I would hope so, for I'll be having her deliver my next babe. Shoo!"
Jaime couldn't help but grin. He changed something, and it was for the better.