Chapter 20
GAEL TARGARYEN
Half a year had passed since the birth of Princess Daenerys, and the realm had grown accustomed to the presence of another princess. While the birth had brought much-needed joy and delight to the Red Keep, it had also ushered in a more significant change.
The open support for Galen's 'Hospital' and by helping Aemma give birth and saving the life of the Lady Alarie Hightower, Galen had proved his mettle, giving the Crown the perfect reason to support his venture, and it did.
And now, half a year later, Gael stood atop Visenya's Hill, where the foundation for the Crown's rival to the Citadel had been laid. As she listened to the heartbeat of another foetus, Gael sat there, with Galen standing behind her.
She moved away and began to palpate her swollen belly so as to give her an estimate for when the child would be due, and all of the things which had once seemed magical and mystical to her were almost becoming second nature.
"Your child is healthy and is due in the next fourteen to twenty-one days," she told the woman as she moved back and plunged her hands into the pot of boiling water.
"Bless you, Princess," the woman prayed with desperation.
"Bless you, and your entire family," she thanked her as she pushed herself off the small bed, as Gael gave her a gentle smile and nod, as the woman left the room, and plopped down on the chair.
"She did not even look at me," Galen's sulking voice came from behind, as Galen realised that he was right, and the half year had changed him, for now his white robes had golden ribbons at their edge, highlighting his rank, while Gael's white robes held a single stripe of green ribbons, highlighting her rank.
It was a system designed by Galen, where each Healer must train for at least a year to earn one stripe. To become a full-fledged certified healer, they must study for at least three years and pass a slew of tests.
It was similar to the system of the Citadel, but unlike the Citadel, the Hospital focused mainly on the subject of Healing and a few other basics.
"She must not have seen you," Gael consoled him, as the young boy chuckled and shook his head.
"No, it's not that. She saw me, but I did not examine or heal her, you did. And so she thanked you," and for the last moon or so, Gael had been examining and helping the sick on her own as Galem simply stood behind her and observed, speaking up only when she would make a mistake or find herself looking at a new case.
"Soon enough, I might run out of things to teach you," and Gael shook her head at his words.
"That is a lie, and we both know it," and in this time, she had learned much about the young boy who had saved her life, and each thing was far more impressive than the last.
To this day, Gael could not help but be surprised by his memory and how he would simply glance at a page once and repeat it word for word, a minute later. It was as if this were magic.
"Is it?" he teased, as he walked towards the door.
"Come, let me show you something," and the Hospital had gained a few other apprentices, but none were as advanced as her yet.
She followed after him as he led her through the halls and rooms until they came across his own quarters, which were highly guarded. She saw the guards nod as he led her to his quarters, where the woman from the tourney stood guard at the gate.
"Princess," the woman greeted her, a golden mask now covering the scars left by Greyscale, as Gael greeted her back.
"Elsa," and Galen led her inside the room, and in the room were the most prized possessions of the Hospital, which included the near eye, an object that allowed a person to view even the smallest of creatures.
Creatures whose very existence was considered a theory, or a myth for centuries, yet now it was proven that death, disease, and rot were all caused by these little creatures that surrounded them by a thousand thousand.
He lit up the lamp and adjusted the near-eye, though he himself would often use a different word for it, and put a small glass plate under it, before he moved past her.
"See," and she frowned, but put her eye on the hole, and saw the small creatures, 'animalcules' or 'microorganisms', lying there dead, and she frowned.
"What am I looking at?" she asked, for it was not strange for them to die. They had already reasoned out that boiling water, boiled ale, and a few other things could kill them.
"Yes, but the question is what killed them this time," and with that, he pushed forward a small silver dish, which had mold on it.
"Mold," and he smiled wildly, and it was like watching a kid play with his toys.
"Yes," and one day soon, I am going to extract just the part of the mold responsible for killing the microorganisms and change the world," and though he said that, the truth was that he already had.
The Hospital had a hundred trainees currently, and that number could easily have been nearly twice as big if he were not so strict in his selection process. Already, thousands flocked to him and his Hospital from across the continent to see their ailments healed, and already the influence of the Maesters and the Faith was dwindling, as Galen's influence continued to grow more and more.
"One day this is going to help change..." yet before he could say more, there was a knock on the door as they both turned towards it.
"Yes," Galen called out, and the door was opened as Elsa walked in.
"My lord, a hoard has gathered. They wish to see the Healer..."
And they had left their position rather hurriedly, and as they returned, Galen once more began to examine people, as Galen stayed behind and began to do his own work.
She did not mind it, for after many years, she found herself living a life of purpose and meaning. Here she was not just the Princess, she was a healer, one who was helping people, and that gave her joy, even if it was hard work.
"Fever and chills," she asked, and the woman nodded, and she frowned, for she had heard similar words before.
"Anything else?" she asked, and the woman seemed to think about it for a few seconds.
"Some weakness as well," and it was her son who spoke up from beside.
"Some weakness," he asked rather angrily as he turned towards her.
"My lady, she has gotten so weak that she suddenly went asleep three times in just the last half a moon," and the woman coughed, as Gael frowned, for that should not be happening.
"What do you do?" Suddenly, Galen's voice came from behind, and the man turned towards him and answered.
"We have sheep, my lord," he answered, and he saw Galen frown as he closed his eyes for a few seconds.
"This is the fourth such case in the last hour or so," and she could not say with certainty, but yes, she had heard these symptoms before.
"Yes, I have heard these symptoms before," she added.
"Get back," he ordered suddenly, and she knew better than to defy him as she backed away as he moved forward, and covered his face with a cloth.
"What..." she tried to ask, but he pointed towards the boiling water and turned towards the older woman.
"Do you tend to the sheep as well?" and the woman nodded.
"Yes."
"Raise your arms," he ordered, and the older woman did as she was ordered, and as she did so, she saw Galen's face shift as she heard him curse.
"Seven Hells!" and he backed off from the woman, and she noticed the alarm in his eyes as she asked in a whisper.
"What is this?"
"Plague..."
0000
JAEHAERYS TARGARYEN
Jaeherys had known that a war against the Citadel would not be easy, yet the Seven had given him the perfect weapon for this war, and now, for the first time in history, the ancient order had met its match.
This was not through a congregation of learned men, or an ungodly amount of wealth, but because of the one man, and one man only.
Galen.
The boy had taken the opportunity given by him with both hands, and now, but half a year since the birth of Princess Daenerys Targaryen, the boy had become a sensation within the realm and had laid the foundation for an institute that could not only rival but perhaps even surpass the Citadel.
But in the end, it was not all so simple, for with his quick rise in the court, he had also made himself some rather powerful enemies, and these enemies hung around him like vultures waiting for him to make a mistake so that they might pounce upon him and destroy his life.
"Is it truly wise?" questioned Baelon as he sat beside him in his room, and for a few days now, Jaehaerys could feel his years catching up with him, as he felt himself growing weaker by the day, as his body seethed with a gentle fever.
"What?" he asked, taking a sip of the water as Baelon frowned.
"Galen and Gael," his son and heir whispered, and he himself had pondered that question many a time before and had found no right answer.
It was true that Gael had reached the age when she needed to be married off, but Galen, for all his power and importance, was a commoner. And then there was his promise to Alysanne, and how she would not let him break it, when it came to their youngest child.
"What do you think?" he asked, and Baelon frowned as Jaehaerys began to cough as pain ripped through his chest.
"AGHH! GUGH!" and Baelon's alarm was obvious, but he stopped him from making a fuss.
"There are obvious merits to the match," and there were more than a few, for Galen had proven himself to be a gentle, kind, and blessed soul. Barth's son had a heart of gold and the mind of Crone itself, with how he had single-handedly built an entire institution through his efforts.
"It would solidify the boy's allegiance to our House, but at a very steep cost," but was there a better choice for Gael than him?
And the answer was no.
"Mother seems to be in favor of the match," and of course she was, for her only desire was to see Gael live a happy and fulfilling life, regardless of whether she fulfilled her duties to the family or not.
"GUGH! GUGH!" he cughed once more as Baelon frowned.
"Have you had someone give you some medicine?" he asked, and Jaehaerys shook his head.
"It is just a cold," and the weather had changed recently, and in his old age, he had lost much of his vigor, and now a simple cold breeze was enough to make him ill.
"But have the the Maesters looked at you?" Baelon pushed, and Jaeherys shook his head, for he would not lie to his son.
"Father..." and disapproval was evident in his tone, as Baelon.
"I will call that boy..." Yet before he could stand up, there was a knock on his door.
"Yes," he asked, and a servant came in.
"Your grace, this arrived for you from the Hospital. The Healer said that it is an urgent matter," and Baelon reached for the letter, and Jaehaerys saw his eyes widen as he read it.
"What is it?" he asked as he saw his worried look.
"It's Galen," he began in a whisper.
"He has asked me to close the ports, and close the gates," and there was only ever one reason for a Healer to ask that of a King, as old memories resurfaced from decades ago, when Maesters had come to him seeking this very thing.
"Plague..."
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