บท 400: 20
Chapter 20: Chapter 17: HealthcareChapter Text
"Healthcare, education, warm homes and full bellies."
-Rhaenyra Targaryen, when asked what great sorceries she would use to crush the Sparrow Movement.
105 AC, Red Keep
The war room of the Red Keep was richly furnished. A great oaken table, enough to sit fourteen, stood in the centre of the room. Elegantly carved chairs surrounded it, with a throne for the Hand or King at the head of the table.
Cubbyholes filled with the finest maps in Westeros was beside the door, and blackboards lined the longest wall. Opposite it, tall windows gave the commanders plenty of natural light and a view of the Blackwater Rush.
This was the room where Maegor plotted the destruction of the Faith Militant, where the Greens would devise their battle plans for the Dance of the Dragons, where Daeron the Young Dragon planned his conquest of Dorne and Daeron the Good's war council convened to counter the Blackfyre pretenders.
And today, I had gathered nine men and three women, to plan the upcoming campaign. One that could potentially end the Dance before it even began.
"My mother is now approximately four months pregnant. She's already had one miscarriage, and struggled greatly to bring me into the world. We are going to work together to prevent my Father from needing to cremate another child and potentially his wife." I informed the nine maesters and three midwives sitting at the table. "Now, I know that we cannot cure everything, but I will not let my mother die without at least trying to chase the Stranger away."
It was heartening to see the way backs straightened and people leaning forward to listen to me. The maesters were all well aware of what happened to the last one whom disagreed with me. Heck, six of the nine present backed me against the man in question. None of them wanted to be the next Runciter.
"Your grace, I understand why we are present, but may I inquire as to why you've brought in smallfolk midwives? Surely we maesters are—" One maester began before I cut him off.
"How many births have you performed, maester?" I asked him, the man blinking in surprise.
"Six, your grace, but I don't see what—"
"Six. I see." I interrupted, turning to face one of the commoner midwives, whom tried to melt into her chair when my gaze swept over her. "Midwife Lily, how many births have you performed?"
"Uh, I don't know. I can't count higher than thirty, M'lady." She stammered out, face pale.
"More than thirty. Thank you, midwife." I smiled, turning to face the maesters again. "That is why they're here, Maester Bert. Midwife Lily here has likely forgotten more about childbirth than you've ever learnt. You would do well to heed her experience and advice."
There was a murmur of grudging agreement from the men in grey, the women in ratty roughspun sitting straighter with pride at that.
Unlike nobles, whose births were performed near-exclusively by maesters, the smallfolk had to rely on midwives during childbirth. These were typically older women, whom learnt through firsthand experience and by the sides of older midwives. And as a religious fanatic once said, 'You are the few, and we are the many.' Smallfolk outnumbered nobles by at least two hundredfold. What the average midwife lacked in textbook knowledge, they more than made up for in practical experience.
The High Sparrow was anathema to everything that I stood for, in this life and the one before, but I would not deny his wisdom.
"Now then, if there are no other questions, let us begin the meeting." I said, sitting back down in the throne and letting the men and women discuss.
I will confess that I didn't learn too much about birth. I was expected to become a general practitioner, so I glossed over that topic. Oh sure I could probably tell someone when she was pregnant, and what to eat and do to ensure a healthy baby, but my knowledge beyond that wasn't too much.
Anything to do with the nether regions, I typically left to my friend Dexter, whom had an encyclopaedic memory for anything from Urology to Gynaecology. That perverted idiot was well... a perverted idiot, but he was the most skilled midwife and obstetrician I saw in our batch. If his bedside manner involved less leering and dirty jokes, then he'd be the perfect nether region specialist.
After an hour had passed, with much discussion between both sides, Laena and Daena brought in Daemon's last two pregnant lovers. Falyse was eight months along, while Mysaria was six. Jenn had already given birth to Visenya, bringing the total number of Dragonseeds up to twenty.
The midwives and maesters then spent nearly two hours poking and prodding at their bellies, arguing over what they thought was right. The maesters were convinced that Falyse most likely a boy, based on bump shape. The midwives were adamant that the heartburn and morning sickness of Falyse meant that it was likely another girl. Mysaria's baby attracted equal attention but far less debate. All twelve believed that it was a boy.
Eventually, as suppertime approached, everyone agreed to disperse and meet up again in a few days time. The maesters would teach the midwives about sterilisation and hygiene, while the midwives would teach the maesters the finer points of childbirth.
Afterwards, my ladies and I escorted the two pregnant women back to the Fyrepit.
———
105 AC, Fyrepit, Red Keep
The Fyrepit was behind the castle sept, a long keep with slate roofs and tall carved doors. While Baelor would eventually imprison his sisters in this building, causing it to be renamed the Maidenvault, we had given it a new name and purpose before my Canon grandson could.
Before the Dragonseeds and their mothers moved in, the building was the home of Maegor's Black Brides and other wives, and ominously called the Bridecage. Most had forgotten the name of the building over my great grandfather's long reign, and due to its reputation, was left practically untouched beyond basic cleaning and maintenance for decades.
When we brought our new family members in, we tried to come up with a more encouraging name for the place. Viserys suggested calling it 'The Planter', for our Dragonseeds, which was utterly lame. The Dragonseeds and I liked Laena's suggestion of 'The Hatchery', but Mushroom beat us all to it, calling it 'The Whorepit'. Named so as it was home to what that malicious little goblin called "Daemon's whores and their progeny" and the name stuck, to our utter horror.
It was only a bit later that it got renamed. A couple of months back, on the Mother's Day, as a PR move to counter my growing popularity and influence, Mother took out all of my cousins to the Castle Sept and asked if any wished to be baptised in the name of the Seven. Such that they may be anointed and their sin of bastardy lessened in the eyes of the gods. The notion proved very popular, and all of them agreed. While my Mother would tell any who would listen that the children were faithful and devout, I highly suspected that the real reason was because upon baptism, a new name could be taken, their old one offered up to the gods.
I made a point of reading to my cousins the history of our house at least thrice a week, regaling them with tales of Aegon the Conqueror, Aenys the Weak, Maegor the Cruel and Jaehaerys the Wise. And when I ran out of kings, I moved onto Valyrian history. To polish up on my High Valyrian, Uncle Vaegon made me translate one chapter every day from the Enclyopaedia of Valyrian History from Aenar's Vault. After translation, I'd typically read excerpts out to the Dragonseeds. My storytelling sessions proved absurdly popular, and my cousins loved reenacting historical events, with them pretending to be our ancestors.
So when my mother dangled the opportunity to ditch their old common names for those of the heroes they liked hearing about, was it no surprise so many of them jumped at the opportunity? Even their mothers got involved, believing that their children should get names befitting pseudo-royalty.
And so it was, that out of the twenty current Dragonseeds, the only two that didn't now have Valyrian names were Bell and Erik.
It was around this time that they began debating surnames in earnest. Laena believed that as cousins to the royal family, no matter how illegitimate, they shouldn't have to use the normal bastard surnames as everyone else, and somehow persuaded my parents into agreeing. There was much debate, with names from Seed to Egg being tossed around before Strat Stone's suggestion of Fyre was picked. I even got my father to decree that any acknowledged Dragonseed would bear the surname Fyre, which got us a whole dogpile of hugs from my gleeful cousins.
So one by one, the children went for their baptisms. The fourteen Waters and five Stones were immersed in water seven times, and nineteen Fyres left the Sept. And ever since then, the Whorepit was renamed the Fyrepit, which was far better in everyone that wasn't Mushroom's opinion.
Laena and I sat down in the Fyrepit's dining hall and ate with our cousins. The twenty of them were excited to see us, tumbling over themselves to get our attention. I wasn't really fond of children, but raising Yuri had really made me mellow out on that regard. I missed my daughter, and channeled that parental urge onto my cousins, all of whom were younger than I.
I helped feed sixteen-month-old Lucerys Fyre, play wrestled three-year-old Aemon Fyre, showed five-year-old Shaera Fyre how to hold her cutlery like a proper highborn lady and swatted six-year-old Baela Fyre with a cushion when she tripped four-year-old Haegon Fyre.
Afterwards, I sat down and dug out my assignment parchments, reading to them the forbidden romance between Rhaella Caraxeon and Rhaemon Monterys, both from feuding families and promised to another, and yet continuously evading their chaperones to meet up, before eventually marrying in secret. The two of them were executed, but not before Rhaella birthed a son, Laemon, whom both families fought over for custody, as the infant had claimed Rhaemon's mighty dragon Verona. A bloody dispute ensured, both Dragonlord families gathering allies and moving to war before the Triarchs intervened.
"And what happened next?" Viserra Fyre excitedly asked.
"That's a story for next time." I teased, a chorus of groans rising up. "Come on kids, half your siblings are already asleep. Let your mothers put them to bed."
———
105 AC, Rhaenyra's Room, Maegor's Holdfast
The midwives were right. Falyse gave birth to a healthy girl named Rhaella Fyre, the birth one of the smoothest Maester Gerardys had ever seen, thanks to Midwives Lily and Asta helping him along. With seven silver links on his chain, Gerardys was the most skilled healer in the city, and he was visibly praising their methods and new equipment; I had a blacksmith create forceps and stethoscopes for them, claiming that they were ancient Valyrian tools for aid in healing. Which wasn't wrong, for the Encylopaedia on Valyrian Surgery actually had descriptions of such tools within it.
And it wasn't just Falyse they experimented on. My cabal of midwives and maesters all had extensive practice on the smallfolk, as I had criers in the city make it known that the Red Keep was offering to help pregnant women give birth so long as they willingly consented to undergoing our new experimental procedures. It was amazing the difference better training and equipment made on both sides. The past three months had the lowest recorded cases of death by childbirth in the city.
Gerardys had compiled the research into an academic paper and intended on sending it to the Citadel. Which was the first step on my grand plan for the revolution on healthcare.
Already, changes had been made in King's Landing. I sent the Goldcloaks to round up as many hedge wizards and woods witches, barbers and local healers, medicine men and midwives as possible and had my maesters validate their skills in healing. The charlatans were hung, and those whom knew their shit were given free lessons by my cabal. I wanted to issue licenses to separate the wheat from the chaff, but we ran into the practical issue that there weren't enough maesters in King's Landing to do so.
I also had a talk with the local septons and managed to convince them to give sermons on the many many benefits of hygiene as well as boiling water before consuming it. I didn't really like religion, but I couldn't deny that it was a very useful tool to control the commoners. Especially if it could get the unwashed masses to wash.
After that, I ordered the Goldcloaks to round up as many beggars and homeless as possible and offered them food and a roof to stay under if they helped clean the city. To help them out, I got criminals whom committed petty offenses like theft and drunken behaviour to sweep the streets and pick up trash as community service in lieu of the usual losing a finger or lashes. Though repeat offenders got double the full punishments.
I tried to crack down on pot shops selling bowls of brown, but ran into the issue that I didn't have anyone whom could verify the hygiene of the stores themselves. I didn't have a system in place, nobody trusted to verify and no enforcers/overseers beyond the Goldcloaks, whom were more of a cudgel anyway. Good for swatting down my enemies, but ill suited for more… delicate work. The lack of a bureaucracy was really grating on me now.
And I couldn't even start a bureaucracy. Only highborn or those of the Faith were literate, and there was only so many of them running around. My next idea to set up classes teaching literacy and arithmetic to smallfolk went nowhere, as I didn't even have enough teachers or the money to hire them. Worse, I didn't even have enough writing materials. Ink, paper and parchment were produced in King's Landing, but not enough to meet the demands of a bureaucracy and triplicate forms.
In the end, I was forced to throw my hands up and surrender. Until I got more scribes, paper makers and funding, I wouldn't be able to do anything.
I sighed, setting down my quill, unable to focus on the translation any more. There was only so much I could do, as an eight-year-old princess. Sure, the Goldcloaks, maesters and Kingsguard obeyed me, but I couldn't draw on the treasury or write royal decrees. I'd get both when I grew older, but I wanted to enjoy the peace while it lasted, before I got into a war with the Hightowers.
Just as I began another sigh, the door to my room opened. There were only two people other than me that had a key into my room and Nadie would've knocked first.
"Laena, how was your flight?" I asked, not even bothering to look up. The older girl sat down in the chair beside me and hugged me tight, sighing as she took in my scent and the feeling of me on her skin.
"Wonderful. Silverwing and Vermithor kept the rest of them in line, and Vhagar only had to discipline Caraxes once." My best friend reported.
Ever since we got back, there had been changes in the Dragonpit. Now, once every two or three days, all the adolescent and older dragons were released for exercise, being taken out for a flight by a dragonrider. Mostly Laena, given how much she loved flying. They typically flew to Dragonstone and back, hunting fish along the way. I was told by the Dragonkeepers that the dragons had shown a marked improvement in behaviour, appetite and growth ever since.
After the fifth exercise flight to Dragonstone ended in a close run-in with the Cannibal, Viserys and Rhaenys tried to hunt it down, but the Cannibal outflew Vermithor and outfought Meleys, forcing them to abandon the hunt. As a stopgap measure, to prevent further losses to our stock of dragons, Viserys ordered the hatchery in Dragonstone emptied, and every dragon and egg brought back to the Dragonpit. Now, all that was left on our island, was the Cannibal, Sheepstealer and Grey Ghost.
"Good." I simply said, turning my attention back to the translation, but Laena turned my head around, making me look at her once more. I raised an annoyed eyebrow, silently demanding an explanation.
"I didn't just fly to Dragonstone. I flew to Driftmark as well. It's nearly time for the harvest. Father is eager to show you what we have achieved." Laena reported.
"Already? Wow, time certainly does fly." I remarked, genuinely surprised. I frowned, recalling my schedule before finding an open slot. "I'm free to visit in four days time."
"Excellent!" Laena cheered, pulling me into her lap and cuddling me.
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