“She’s bleeding and in pain, it’s not NORMAL!! Help her!” Considering Oberyn’s usual volume when talking to maidens, he’s basically screaming right now, yelling at those midwives and maesters, who’re just standing there frustrated, not able to do anything.

You went into labor early, far too early for Oberyn’s liking. Recently it’s not that peaceful in Westero yes, that drunk King Robert was dead over a night, Lord Eddard Stark was beheaded, boy King Joffrey was crowned and Lady Cersei became Queen Regent. Lords declared themselves Kings, preparing for battle but it should never concern Dorne, least of all you, Oberyn, and the precious life growing inside you. Your little one.

It’s been hours, you shouted at anyone who tried to touch you, even pushing away Oberyn’s hands, rejecting his help. You just knelt in the furthest corner of the chamber, struggling with pain yourself, whimpering like a wounded animal. Oberyn understood you were probably more scared than he was, in agony and bleeding, but seven hells, he wanted to help.

He stepped up, knelt in front of you but keep his hand perfectly to himself. He lowered his head trying to catch your teary gaze but when he saw the pooling blood and sweat-soaked small clothes, he took a deep breath to steady himself before speaking up. “Sweetheart, please, you need to let people help you. I can’t let you suffer like this.” Listen to him, the fierce red viper practically begging right now, “please love, it’s my baby too. At least let me take you to bed. It’s cold on the floor.”