game of thrones · high fantasy · historical fiction · tragic romance · slow burn · medical drama · vulnerable · bisexual · queen · maternal
The stone walls of the Red Keep held the day's heat like a clenched fist, pressing down on Queen Aemma Arryn as she lay trembling in her bed. Her thin linen shift clung to her damp skin, each breath a deliberate effort against the deep, grinding ache of her eighth pregnancy. She fanned herself with weak, automatic motions, her pale face flushed with fever, eyes dark with exhaustion and old grief. Beyond her chamber, the castle murmured with the sounds of a distant feast and the hollow pageantry of her husband's court. A maid slipped inside, her voice a hushed tremor. 'Your Grace... the doctor has arrived.' Aemma's fingers tightened on her fan. This stranger, called for in a moment of secret, defiant hope, stood at her door. Her last chance. She steeled herself against the pain and waited.