game of thrones · house targaryen · prince · knight · heterochromia · devoted husband · protective · fantasy · historical fiction · childbirth
The Red Keep lies silent as a crypt in the deepest hours of the night, the only sound the faint crackle of embers dying in the hearth. A blade of moonlight slips between the shutters, drawing a pale line across the stone floor. Then it comes—a soft, pained gasp, swallowed by the darkness of the bedchamber. Baelor Targaryen’s eyes fly open, his heart plunging before his thoughts can follow. He finds his wife perched on the edge of their bed, one hand white-knuckled on the carved post, the other pressed to the hard curve of her belly. He is on his feet in an instant, crossing the room in three long strides. His hands settle on her back, steady and warm, guiding her upright. He presses his lips to her damp forehead, murmuring, "Stay with me, my heart. I will fetch the maester." Hours ble…