Chapter 2
~3 years later~
KINGSLANDING 99AC
It was the 99th year after Aegon's Conquest, and the city he'd united had grown into something almost ungovernable.
In the streets of Kingslanding, nearly a quarter of a million souls lived huddled together in small homes, with dirtier streets and even dirtier water. The city had spiralled around the Red Keep in but a century, and though a hundred years seemed large, Old Town, a city of comparable population, had spiralled to that size in more than a thousand years.
Despite being the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, the city paled in comparison to Old Town with its well-planned cobbled streets. The city was poorly designed and even more poorly built, and even the Great Conciliator, with his half-century reign, could not tame its rot.
Disease and poverty were rampant in the city, as they would be in a city of such size. Unlike Old Town, this city had no guilds or Citadel to care for these people, who were forced to rely on quacks, charlatans, and prayers to cure their ailment.
Three times, plague itself had threatened to bring the empire to its knees, and it was only through quick action on the part of the Crown that the castle was spared. Yet beyond the walls of the Red Keep, the disease would kill thousands, a small number for a plague, yet to those who would lose their family, each loss brought with it devastation and destruction.
But in recent years, a new name had sprung up in the city streets. Small enough to evade any Royal scrutiny, but popular enough that all those within the city who fell ill knew to go to him by now.
He had come here a few years ago and had offered his services for free. Most people had been doubtful of him at first, believing him to be another quack or mummer trying to swindle them out of their gold. Yet as time passed and people saw his work, they began to take him at his word.
He promised no miracles, yet in the words of the people he healed, he performed them daily.
His fame had grown enough that each day, now just as the first ray of light tore through the horizon, people began to gather around his little home just at the edge of the Bay, the line of people several hundred meter long, yet they waited patiently for they knew that if there was anyone who could alleviate their pain and suffering.
It was just another day, and another line of people spread long from his house, as two women stood there at the edge watching the crowd, with pained eyes. They wore cloaks, and it was good that they did, for even if the desperate people around them sat in their fine clothes and jewels, the two ladies would find themselves assaulted and looted in an instant.
"Come, my lady. This is the healer I spoke to you about," added the older girl, shielding the young woman behind her with her body as she pointed her towards the small, decrepit home.
This was not what she had expected when she thought of a fabled healer, but as she looked around at the people gathered around her, she realised that Anna had not lied about his popularity.
The two girls moved parallel to the line, drawing a few irate gazes, until their path was interrupted by a man. His shadow fell over them before his voice did, and was large enough to cover them both as he stopped them in their journey.
"Where do you think you two are going?" the burly man questioned, halting them in their path. He was a giant of a man, with a bare chest showing scars all around, and one did not need to be a knight to know that this man was a warrior, a skilled warrior.
"We are here to see the healer," the older girl, Anna, responded, making the man raise a brow.
"The line is long, you will have to wait," he rebuffed, and the older girl was not in the mood to listen as she nearly gave away their identity.
"How dare you stop a Prin..." but the girl behind her pulled on her cloak, stopping her from revealing their identities. The older girl seemed to realise her mistake at once and held her tongue as she turned towards the burly man once more, who was gazing at the younger girl with a frown, his suspicion aroused.
But she could not turn back now, and the maid Anna saw her desperation and chose to plead.
"We must see the Healer, it is an urgent matter," Anna pleaded this time, and the burly man seemed irritated, yet he answered nonetheless.
"If you wish to see him urgently, you must pay a gold dragon," the older man declared, and she quickly reached for her purse, only to realise that she had not brought it with her.
"I will have the money brought to you later," she said, and the man shook his head.
"If you can't pay, you have to get in line. That is the rule," yet before the girl could say anything else, the younger woman from behind thrust forward her hand.
"Will this do?" she asked, and the earring in her hand was of an intricate design, adorned with the red rubies of Qarth. It was worth more than a gold dragon, and the man held it in his hands and examined it for a second before nodding.
"Yes, it will do," and then he led them to the front, and the two of them passed over a dozen people, some holding babes in their arms, others accompanied by frail old parents.
He came to the entrance of the building and motioned for them to wait, yet as the door opened, a young crying woman walked out, holding a small, thin babe in her arms.
"Bless you, Healer! Bless you!" she sang in praise, in between her cries as they caught the first sight of the fabled healer. He emerged with the sun at his back, steam rising from the room behind him like mist from a sacred spring as he consoled the woman.
"I am grateful for your prayers," he spoke softly, and as he spoke, all of them fell quiet. The woman nodded repeatedly, tears of gratitude running down her face.
"I will pay you back. I promise you that," and the man shook his head, as the younger girl gazed at the little babe hungrily, a desperation and hope gripping her heart.
"Use whatever your man brings to feed that child, I will find my bread on my own," and with that, just as the young man was about to turn towards the older woman, the burly man stepped forward.
"It seems I must care for another one before you," the healer said, apologizing to the old man at his door, and the old man did not grow angry as he nodded in acceptance.
"We shall wait for you, healer Galen," so that was his name, and as he turned to face her, she saw the scar running down his neck, and those brown eyes of his felt familiar to her, and for a second she saw him halt before he led them to his tiny home.
"Come, I shall see you now," and so the two cloaked women entered the tiny home. It was smaller than her own room back at the castle, yet she found it much different than the rest of the city that she had walked. It was small, but clean with ample light.
There were stacks of parchment in one corner of the room, along with three pots of boiling water and dozens upon dozens of little bottles and tomes place neatly to the side.
There was a bed on one side of the room, opposite which was a rack filled with plates and sacks containing various plants and herbs.
"I must apologise for my humble abode," he said, and his tone and manner had shifted, she noticed as he addressed them.
"Your disguise, while admirable, does little to hide your heritage and status. I do not care what your names are, or what the names of your family are, but you are lucky that no thief caught sight of you," and with that, he pointed towards the bed.
"Now, what brings you to this healer?" There was calm and serenity in that voice, reminding the younger girl of another one just like him, one who sat beside the king and gave him good counsel for years until he could no more.
"How did you know?" the noblewoman who had given up her earring asked, fear and trepidation lacing her words, as she backed away.
The healer gazed at her, his smile telling as he gave her a list.
"Clean cloaks. Uncalloused hands. Jewelry, given too freely. You don't belong in these streets," he argued.
"We could be from a rich merchant family," she argued, and saw him shake his head.
"No merchant's daughter would hand over a treasure like this."
He held it to the light. "Not for this healer," and she could feel the absence of that earing already, but if it could help her find the miracle she sought, it would be too small a price to pay.
"They say you are a healer who can perform miracles?" she asked, her patience had long run out. And as she saw him shake his head, the last vestiges of hope began to simmer away, as the darkness of despair began to envelope her entire being.
"No, I believe that power still rests in the hands of God," he denied the praise but there was a glint in those eyes, one filled with defiance as he continued.
And then he pointed towards the bed, offering her a seat.
"I am neither an angel nor a God. I perform no miracles, but I take pride in the fact that I am the best healer in these lands, and if you come to seek me, I shall offer you the truth and only the truth. Nothing more, nothing less," and there was belief in his words, faith in himself, and his prowess.
This was not the first healer she was seeing.
From the most learned Maesters to quacks and crooks of all kinds, she had struck every door and every chance. Many had promised her miracles, yet it was the first time that someone had told her the truth.
He could have lied to her. But he had not. So, she stepped forward and pulled away her cloak to reveal her face, and saw his eyes widen, as if recognizing her. She found those dark brown orbs familiar, yet she did not put much thought to them as she began.
"Pri..." and she was surprised that it took him but a second to realise just who she was.
"The Maesters believe that I am incapable of having a child," she whispered, as regret and grief tore at her entire being as she questioned in desperation.
"Tell me, do they speak the truth?"
.
.
.
.
"I want to stay here," she whispered to her maid, who had helped her cling to hope, but now it was over. He had been her last hope, the famed miracle healer who treated the weak, poor, and downtrodden of Kingslanding for nothing.
Yet even he could not bring back what the Gods had taken from her.
"My lady..." her maid pleaded as she sat down on the shores of the Blackwater Bay, at the place where it had all begun.
"Leave me, Anna," she pleaded in desperation as she looked her maid in the eye.
"I will return to the castle in some hours," she lied, and the poor girl, ridden with guilt, believed her. Just as she was about to leave, she stopped her.
"My lady, the Queen..." and she sighed.
"I have no doubt that my mother will learn about this. It is why I wish to spend this evening alone by myself," she argued, holding Anna's hand.
"Let me enjoy these last few moments of peace, freedom, Anna," and the girl, ridden with guilt, nodded, acquiescing to her request, unaware of the treachery that brewed in her own mind.
"I will go and secure the tunnels again," Anna whispered innocently as she smiled at her.
"Alright," and as she watched her retreating back, she turned towards the setting Sun, and the spreading darkness as her eyes began to tear up. She reached for the ear, for the gift of her mother and pressed the remaining earring against her lips, cold as the water before her.
Slowly, then she took a step forward and then another until the waves of the Bay crashed onto her feet, and then her legs. The cold water made her shiver, yet she did not stop, as she continued to walk until the water covered her from head to toe, and she gave a last whisper.
"Forgive me...."
She waited, just a moment, as if the waves would change their mind. Then she stepped forward and the waves swallowed her whole.
She felt the water enter her mouth. Felt it surround her body, yet her feet did not stop, and even as her instincts screamed at her to jump, to move away she continued to move forward, even as the water in her mouth, in her nose, in her ears robbed her mind of air.
And as the darkness began to surround her, the last thing she heard was a scream.
"Princes....."
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(P)(A)(T)(R)(E)(O)(N) / Drkest
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