TRIGGER WARNING: Discussion of post-partum depression (unnamed but, like, implied) 

A Woman's Battlefield 

116 AC

GAEL HAD NEVER WANTED TO BE PREGNANT. From a young age – when she realized that her mother's pregnancies were the cause of her constant suffering – she had been disgusted by the possibility. Aemma's death only added to her convictions. Not even knowing that she would one day have to marry changed that. Valethar would work quite well for disposing of any man who attempted to force a child upon her.

They had agreed on one child. One little heir to appease the judgment of others. Before she became pregnant, Gael had accepted that choice as displeasing, but necessary. She was determined to get through it with the same bitter stubbornness she faced most annoying necessities.

Then it actually happened. And, as days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, Gael found herself growing increasingly unnerved. Her own body had turned against her. Every food made her ill and every movement was exhausting. At first Gael could pretend she was only sick, but after only two months the thing inside insisted on making itself known, kicking and deforming her from the inside to make space for itself.

Merlon suggested she return to King's Landing to be with her family. It had been the first time she screamed him out of the room. Though she apologized – and genuinely so – it would not be the last. At times it felt she could not open her mouth without erupting in fury or tears.

But it was not just emotions that had caused her response. Gael feared giving birth anywhere, yes, but doubly so in the Red Keep. Viserys had spoken often of how excited he was for her to make him a grandfather. Though he never said it, Gael was certain he would not hesitate to submit her to the same fate as her mother.

She would not be gutted for a corpse.

Though Gael was not against seeing all of her family. In fact, she had asked Rhaenyra to come visit Acorn Hall. It would be good to see her sister. And, though Gael didn't mention it in any of her letters, it might have been good for Rhaenyra to get out of the capital for a while.

The last years had been hard on Rhaenyra. The rumors that had led to her forced marriage had mutated as her children were born.

First there was Daenys. The girl, they said, had been born too soon. She was happy and healthy, surprising since – if conceived the night of the wedding, as claimed – she was also months premature. And just look at her, people whispered, just look at her. Black haired and brown eyed, Daenys's appearance wasn't Valyrian. It was Dornish.

It took about a year for those rumors to die down, but it was not because people forgot. It was because the second child – a boy named Jacaerys, called Jace by his family – suddenly stole all attention. He, they said, was even worse than Daenys had been.

At least the girl had some excuses. Baratheons had black hair, so she might have gotten that from Rhaenys' side. Baratheon blood was notoriously strong, it made sense to appear without warning. And Laenor did have tan skin, too. Perhaps it was some unfortunate combination.

But Jace was born with a little brown tuft on his head and a pug nose that looked suspiciously like a certain captain of the City Watch.

If Daenys was a bastard, no one had a specific father to point to. But everyone was certain Jace was the son of Harwin Strong.

Which is perhaps why they suddenly gave up on Daenys's rumor. Instead they decided to weaponize her against her brother. No longer was Daenys a bastard herself, but evidence that Jace was one. How terrible it was! The only trueborn child was another girl.

All Gael saw was unnecessary drama. Despite constant denial, bastards were not rare among nobility. Especially not royalty. While there was a belief that their treacherous birth stained them to their very nature, the few bastards Gael had met never seemed to hold up to that belief. Nor had any prince never been threatened with disinheritance because they had a couple bastards.

So why had Rhaenyra gotten so much grief? Aside from the fact it benefited those who propagated the rumor.

The whole thing was exhausting. Gael considered this might be another reason to return to King's Landing. She was already pregnant. She didn't need to fight another battle – even if it was one she preferred.

Hadn't her mother warned her? The birthing bed is the woman's battlefield.

˱ 𓈒 𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ˲

IT MIGHT HAVE BEEN DESPERATION, BUT GAEL THOUGHT HER NEEDLEWORK WAS GETTING BETTER. Now that physical activity was becoming harder, she had plenty of time to practice. The head she was sewing was looking closer to a hound than the dragon it was meant to be, but there was nothing that could be done for that.

Lady Marna had offered to help. At first Gael had refused – the last needed she was to humiliate herself in front of her good mother – but she had to admit working with someone was better than doing it alone. It just so happened that Marna had advice.

"You should not feel too badly for imperfections," Marna assured. "We do not rage against a seed for not bearing fruit."

For whatever good it was.

Wallace assured that Marna meant well, and that her advice would make more sense over time. Yet it had been two years and she was still a mystery. At least Gael could tell the woman was trying to comfort her. That was a nice feeling, to have someone address her in a motherly way again.

"You seem distressed," Marna said suddenly.

As she did, she lowered her needlework to her lap. Gael studied the pattern. What it was meant to look like, she could not tell. When asked early, Marna had only shrugged. They would know when it was done, she said. Sometimes it is better to let things grow on their own.

"I think it is unfortunate that people must have children," Marna said. Her tone was absent–minded, and she did not look up from her work, but Gael knew the comment was pointed at her. "It's cruel, I think. To the child. What we must have is never as loved."

"I suppose," Gael said.

"I think you will be a good mother."

Gael scoffed.

"What gave you that impression?" she tried not to sound too incredulous.

"I dreamt I had planted a seed. It grew into a great tree, in the shape of a three headed dragon. It spoke to me." Marna began stitching again. "I could not tell you what it said, I'm afraid. It spoke in the language of the trees, not that of man."

Gael was unsure how to respond to that.

˱ 𓈒 𓈊 ┈ 𓈒 ˲

THE BIRTHING HAD NOT BEEN AS BAD AS GAEL EXPECTED. It certainly was not enjoyable. The one babe they had agreed on turned out to be three – taking nearly an entire day to be born.

First, when everyone was coherent and believed nothing was odd, was a boy they named Aelyx. The second – who had reminded them that multiple births was possible – was a girl. They named her Aemarys, in honor of Gael's mother Aemma. The last child was another boy.

He was named Lyle.

At the time they simply had to name him something, and someone – Gael did not remember, in truth everyone was half manic by then – suggested the name. They would decide it was charming and keep it.

In the moments following, Gael had been relieved. It is over, she thought, and she was wrong. Birthing had been hard for her. No surprise. Gael was young, her mother had a history of hard births, and then there were triplets on top of that.

For two days after she slept fitfully. The rest of the fortnight she could barely manage to stay awake. Days seemed to bleed together. All Gael found the energy to do was stare out the window, which could be barely seen from her bed. It was hard to find an exact word for how she felt. Hollow, perhaps. Finding anything else was like trying to catch water with her hands. No matter how hard Gael dug, it all seemed to slip away.

As for the babies – her babies, though that didn't feel quite right – Gael felt nothing.

She knew that wasn't right. Aemma had described many times the instant adoration she had felt for her daughters. Yet, even when they were laid directly in her arms, the babes brought forth no emotion.

No emotion except, perhaps, frustration.

"Sometimes it takes time," Merlon said. Once again Gael had cradled Aemarys, trying to make herself fond of the babe. And, once again, she had thrust her back into his arms in tears. "The maester said –"

"The others take the maester!" Gael pressed her palms to her eyes. "I want my dragon."

Merlon frowned. He stood from the bed they sat on – the damn bed Gael had been stuck in for the last weeks – and carried Aemarys to her crib. Gael sighed heavily and leaned back against the pillows. She knew he wouldn't say he thought it was a bad idea. Just like she knew he was right.

"Mother took some time to warm up to both Joseth and I," Merlon offered.

Gael wanted to believe he was lying, but his expression seemed genuine. She watched silently as Merlon tucked Aemarys into bed. The girl gargled at him, her little fists opening and closing as she reached for him. He hummed softly until she settled down.

"My mother loved us right away," Gael said.

"You are not your mother," Merlon replied. He studied her for a moment. "The children are cared for, you know? You can focus on resting."

That was true. Merlon enjoyed nothing more than taking care of the triplets. And while Joseth was less interested in the babes – he had his own betrothal to attend to – both Marna and Wallace had given as much attention to the three as they could. Gael had appreciated that. She had personally known little about her grandparents. It would be good for their children to have that kind of connection.

Lady Marna and Aelyx had become particularly close. From the moment they met, the boy had become attached to his grandmother. They even had to send Marna out of the room to get Aelyx to sleep.

Keeping the king away had been nearly as hard as the birthing itself. Viserys wanted to visit right away. He refused, at first, to believe the maesters and midwives when they told him the mother and children needed time to rest. The babes especially. They were delicate in their early years, susceptible to any diseases strangers may be carrying.

This upset Viserys – Gael suspected it had finally hit him how distant she had been – but he relented once promised he could come as soon as it was safe.

It took a year.

Her father materialized in an instant, as if he had been waiting right outside. Gael was surprised to see how quickly he appeared. Especially once she saw his health. He must have aged a century, instead of a few years. There were few visible wounds or ailments, but Viserys was covered entirely, gloves included, and the way he moved gave away pain. One arm was stiff and barely mobile, and he struggled to take more than a few steps at a time.

Viserys was quick to shower Aelyx and Lyle in affection. Gael was happy, for a moment, before souring when she noted that he took Merlon's prompting to even realize Aemarys existed.

At least he fawned over her as well. Gael tried not to feel bitter.

"Isn't it grand?" Viserys said. "Three babes for the three heads of the dragon." Gael was suddenly reminded of Marna's dream. "You ought to have named them after the conquerors."

Gael and Merlon shared a look. They both grimaced.

"Your grace..." Merlon started slowly, the way one might prepare for a child's tantrum.

"You already have an Aegon," Gael interrupted. "And Rhaenyra wishes to name her next daughter Visenya.

She had wished to name her first daughter Visenya. Gael often wondered why she had ultimately decided against it. Perhaps the girl simply hadn't looked like a Visenya.

Not that it mattered. Gael suspected this was just one more attempt on their father's part to get at least one of them to name a child Viserys.

"Perhaps we will call this one Lyaerys," Viserys continued. He stroked the soft wisps of hair that topped Lyle's head, making the babe giggle.

Merlon gave his wife a pleading look. Gael sighed hard through her nose. She did not blame him for fearing standing up to his good father – said good father was the king – but that didn't make correcting Viserys any less frustrating.

"Lyle is quite fine. I think he has already become attached to it," Gael said flatly.

It was a lie. Lyle would respond to anything in a sweet enough tone. But the other two recognized their names, so Gael believed he could do the same.

This would not be the last conversation of this type. Viserys was relentless in his attempts to take over caring for his children. It increasingly felt he was under the impression they were his, not Gael's, and certainly not Merlon's. Gael was beginning to plan how she could tell him to leave when he, finally, was coaxed back to King's Landing with reminders of his duties.

Rhaenyra arrived a week later. In her letters she mentioned bringing Daenys and Jace, but decided they were too young to travel yet. Instead it was just her and Laenor.

After Viserys's suffocating behavior, the two were a breath of fresh air. Laenor befriended the Smallwoods almost instantly. He even bonded with the previously uninterested Joseth, who he'd won over by asking about fishing. Rhaenyra, meanwhile, was the first of their visitors to fully focus on Aemarys. After getting her dreamed of daughter, she had set her mind on a niece to match. She nicknamed the girl "Mary," the way she had done for her own son, Jace.

Much of the sisters' time together was spent with Rhaenyra complaining about life in King's Landing. Gael might have been frustrated, but it took her mind off her own struggles.

According to Rhaenyra, Alicent had turned entirely against them. Growing suddenly bitter, she took it out upon Rhaenyra, even going as far as being the source of the rumors around her children (well, admittedly Rhaenyra had no proof of that, but she was convinced.)

Gael was confused, to say the least. Alicent had been their friend before she was their step–mother. Even after, she had never been cruel to them. In fact, Alicent has gone as far as to argue for Rhaenyra's inheritance to the detriment of her own sons' claims. She had been cold during Rhaenyra's wedding, and at Gael's after, but Gael had assumed that these were simply bad moments for her.

Still, Rhaenyra had positives to share. For all the drama around her children, she loved them dearly. Gael supposed she did, too. Even if it wasn't easy. 

Author's Note: Going into depth with Gael's birthing trauma was good for a plot, but rough on my own fear of giving birth. Gael does love her children, but like with many women it takes a bit, and that's valid! 

Some notes.

One – About Marna; yes, she is meant to be a greenseer! Her greensight doesn't make a big impact, but Aelyx will inherent the trait, so keep that in mind. :)

Two – I know a lot of people assume Alicent was spreading rumors about Rhaenyra's kids, but TBH we only ever see her talking privately with Viserys and Criston. So while Rhaenyra definitely believes she started it, and her behavior isn't helping, it's probably more realistic that the court just...used their own eyeballs and figured it out on their own.