Yalli

It was well-known that childbirth was the most dangerous requirement of being a woman. There was a chance that the child would not survive and an even higher chance that the mother would die from bloodloss. Sansa Stark took solace in the knowledge that her lady mother endured five childbirths and survived each one as the maester prepared to deliver her of first child.

Her husband, King Joffrey Baratheon, had kept her confined to her chambers for the duration of her condition. It had saved her from his harsh treatment for those months, but nothing would be able to protect her once she had given birth and was free from her chambers. He was sure to continue with making her life a misery while in court and then brutalising her at night. It had been the same treatment before she had been forced into the marriage, except he had never taken to her bed back then. She could bitterly recall a time when her mother and father were still alive and she had been thrilled at the prospect of marrying a prince, but that illusion had been shattered the moment her father had been executed.

Sansa recalled a time when Cersei Lannister, who was Queen at the time, had told her that though she might not love Joffrey, she would love her children. She could only hope that her love for this child would be able to overcome the loathing that she held towards her husband. This child would be Joffrey's heir, if it was a son, though she hoped it would be a daughter. She figured that he would be less interested in a daughter than he would be a son, leaving it to her to ensure that her child did not resemble their father.

"My Queen, you must push," the maester instructed as one of her handmaidens laid a damp rag across her forehead.

"Do not tell me what I must," she snapped, squeezing the hand of the handmaiden that was sat next to her. The pain was excruciating and though she could see rags covered with blood being removed from where the maester was, she could only focus on the pain and not on the amount of blood she looked to be losing.

Had she not be punished enough as it is? She endured all the pain and suffering that Joffrey put her through, still managing to bare a smile when it was necessary, and yet she had to go through this pain alone? Sansa had long since realised that life was not fair, but only now did she truly realise just how unfair it was.

A wave of pain hit her and she gave a hard push, her body sagging into the cushions that propped her up. This child did not want to enter this world and she did not blame it, not with the father it had, but she was in too much pain to keep the child safe. It had to enter this world and it had to be soon as she did not know how much more she could bare. Her handmaidens were not helping despite the soothing words they whispered into her ear, and the rags did nothing to cool her. If she was being truthful, they made her feel worse.

I just want a daughter, she pleaded as she was instructed to push again, gripping her handmaiden's hand with both of hers. She could feel the sheen of sweat that covered her face be displaced by her tears as she pushed again, wracking her body with more pain. Or perhaps my time to leave this world has come, she thought as she shuddered with pain and gave a final push.

For a moment there was no noise and then--

"It's a son, My Queen!"