Burning the Dragons

Winterfell’s bells began ringing, a sound that Tabitha wished she didn’t know so well. Her eyes flew open, and her hazy mind cleared after a few moments as she came back into reality from her nap. With no one in her room, she heaved herself off the bed and wobbled over to the door, silently praying to the Old Gods to keep her and her family safe. Once in the hallway, Tabitha headed straight to Catelyn and Eddard’s bedroom, only to find it empty despite Catelyn saying before Tabitha’s nap that she would await her there. Cries of men sounded from outside and Tabitha’s stomach lurched. Nervous about who was attacking Winterfell and why, she hurried as quickly as she could towards the council chambers. After rounding a corner, she almost bumped into a slender figure wearing all black and she gasped, only to relax as she recognised the man.

“Petyr? What are you doing here?” she breathed and Petyr’s eyes immediately lowered to her bulging belly.

“Well, there’s no time to talk about me, look at you, Lady Tabitha,” he replied. “I did not know that you and Oberyn were expecting a child.” Tabitha grinned and placed a hand on her stomach.

“Yes, the Maester says that I am only a few weeks away from giving birth,” she said before hesitating briefly. “Why are you here? I thought you were making a living for yourself in King’s Landing?” Petyr tensed slightly, but kept his calm composure.

“I am, and it is going very well, thank you,” Petyr answered, anxiously glancing behind Tabitha as a couple of figures scurried past a doorway but didn’t notice them.

“We should find Ned,” Tabitha remarked, noticing his nervousness.

“Yes, of course. I’m just looking for something else first, but you go on ahead,” Petyr said, his tone implying the command as he briskly brushed past Tabitha. She winced, understanding that something was very off about him.

“Petyr,” she stated as she turned, seeing him pause to look over his shoulder, fists clenched at his sides. “Why are you here?” Tabitha repeated the question for the final time, wanting honesty. Petyr suddenly spun, storming up to Tabitha and staring down at her with a strong glare.

“I’m here to take what’s mine. The King showed me how he does things, how he takes what he wants with fire and blood, and being his close adviser, I am allowed what I desire too,” Petyr hissed and Tabitha’s eyes widened.

“Leave Catelyn alone,” she breathed, only to be silenced by Petyr’s fist. Tabitha crashed to the ground unconscious, and when she woke she was in immense pain. It took a while for the blurry world around her to stop spinning and Tabitha then saw the face of the Maester of Winterfell.

“Tabitha, can you hear me?” Maester Luwin’s voice was finally heard by Tabitha, and after a cry of pain she nodded. “Oh thank the Gods… Tabitha, dear, you’re in labour. Something has gone wrong.”

“Petyr…” she breathed, the reality sinking in. “Where’s Ned? He has to-” She was cut off by her own scream of pain and her back rose slightly from the bed as she gripped her belly.

“Try to not panic. I have everyone here who can help. You will be just fine,” Maester Luwin reassured her, dabbing a cloth to her sweaty forehead.

“I need… I need Oberyn…” Tabitha whispered as she started to slip from consciousness because of the pain. Maester Luwin noticed and forced a drink down her throat to try to help.

“He is commanding his men,” he replied, realising that the news wouldn’t help.

“So send for him!” Tabitha cried. Maester Luwin nodded at one of the guards who was standing by the door and then focused on doing his best to relieve Tabitha’s agony. Quarter of an hour later, the door burst open and Oberyn pushed past Maester Luwin’s helpers to grip Tabitha’s hand.

“I’m here, my wolf, I’m here,” he breathed while running his hand across the side of her face, confused as to why her skin felt as though it was on fire.

“Thank the Gods… I love you,” Tabitha hoarsely whispered before screaming again.

“Keep on pushing, Tabitha, you can do this,” Maester Luwin encouraged, but Tabitha didn’t believe him. It felt as though her baby was tearing her up on the inside and the pain was so unbearable she was beginning to think that was dying. She had caught glimpses of the maidens removing bloodied cloths and Tabitha was losing confidence that she would live to see another day. Nonetheless, she did her best to stay conscious and push her baby from her body, and with Oberyn’s support and the Maester’s guiding, Tabitha finally felt a wave of relief amongst the pain. Oberyn unwillingly left her side to take the crying, bloodied baby from Maester Luwin’s arms and he brought his child to his wife, cautiously lowering the frail body.

“It’s a girl,” he said gently, a wide grin across his lips. A pang of disappointment that she hadn’t produced a male heir for her husband spread through Tabitha, but was soon forgotten as she realised that his expression showed that he was more than content with a daughter.

“Now if you could just start pushing again, Tabitha,” Maester Luwin said and Tabitha’s brow creased.

“What do you mean?” she breathed heavily, too exhausted to make sense of his words.

“There’s another baby. You need to get him or her out now, otherwise we might be too late,” he replied, his tone particularly calm despite the situation.

“Two?” both Tabitha and Oberyn questioned with surprise before Tabitha was overcome by another wave of pain from her premature labour.