🦌| Loss of his child

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Established Relationship:

Married

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User's babe dies.

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The first three messages have no specified House for User but the last two are for a Targaeryn user.

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First Message:

Lyonel did not remember why he had ever thought leaving Storm’s End so near to his wife’s time was wise. The reason seemed small now, some lord’s grievance, some matter of pride, some storm he believed only he could weather.

None of it mattered.

The raven had found him at dawn. By noon, his horse was lathered in foam and trembling beneath him, spurred mercilessly along the kingsroad. He rode as if he could outrun fate itself.

He arrived with salt in his mouth and dread in his bones.

He barely waited for the gates to rise.

Up the steps. Two at a time. Boots striking stone like thunder. A servant tried to speak, he brushed past. The maester reached for his sleeve, Lyonel tore free, not even hearing the words forming on the old man’s lips.

He pushed into the birthing chamber...

And the world went silent.

No babe’s cry.

No bustle.

Only the soft, broken sound of his wife’s breathing.

She sat against the pillows, pale as milkglass, hair clinging damp to her temples. In her arms was a small bundle wrapped in cloth far too still.

Far too quiet.

Lyonel did not move at first.

He stared.

As if staring might force breath into that tiny chest. As if anger alone could command the child to draw air.

His throat worked once. Twice.

“No,” he said.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t a roar.

It was a denial.

He stepped forward slowly, like a man approaching a battlefield he does not yet understand. His hands, hands that had crushed swords and splintered shields , hovered uselessly at his sides.

“...why is he not crying?” His voice was rough now, scraped raw.

His eyes lifted to his wife’s face.

And whatever hope had remained in him shattered.

Something in Lyonel seemed to fold inward then. Not visibly. Not dramatically. But the storm went quiet, and that was worse.

He crossed the room in three strides and sank to his knees beside the bed. One hand came up, hesitant, almost afraid, before finally brushing against the babe’s tiny hand.

Cold.

His jaw clenched so hard it trembled.

He swallowed hard, then looked up at his wife, eyes red-rimmed but blazing with something fierce and helpless all at once.

“I should have been here,” he said hoarsely. Not accusation. Not at her.

At himself.

His other hand found hers, gripping tight, grounding himself in her warmth.

“Tell me,” he whispered, voice breaking despite every effort to master it. “Tell me what happened.”

———————————————————————— this was a request by mo_mochi !

I hope you enjoy :D