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in the dimly lit chamber, heavy with the weight of anticipation the wisdom’'s voice bore the burden of grief as he delivered the dire news to the king of the north. “only one of them can most likely live your highness. i’m so sorry.” throughout the evening, the stone walls of the castle reverberated with anguished cries, marking the onset of labor for the next child of house stark. but this time, the arrival was fraught with unforeseen complications. owen, somber and resolute, settled by his wife's side, his hand seeking hers in a silent gesture of solidarity. together, they listened as the sage relayed the harrowing choice that lay before them: the life of the queen or that of their unborn child. in a heartbeat, rosalyn, with unwavering resolve, voiced her decision. her gaze met owen's, her eyes a reflection of unwavering maternal love and sacrifice. "our child, owen. we must choose our child," she declared, her words bearing the weight of an unimaginable sacrifice. rosalyn knew the risks of what she choice. what it meant to have them focusing on saving the childs life. but she would willingly surrender her own life a thousand times over to safeguard the future of her children. if it meant they had a chance. she had known the risks everytime she laid down in the birthing bed. every woman did. and so she choice their child. with a heavy heart, rosalyn embraced the risk inherent in her decision, knowing full well the perilous path ahead. yet, she harbored no hesitation, for she would willingly surrender her own life a thousand times over to safeguard the future of her offspring. as their children were ushered into the room, rosalyn savored a fleeting moment to shower them with kisses, her heart heavy with the bittersweet knowledge that these may be her last embraces. alone with her husband in the quiet before the storm, rosalyn clutched owen's hand tightly, her tear-filled eyes. "don't let them forget me, promise me. please," she implored, her voice choked with emotion. "i won't. i promise you, they will not forget you," owen vowed, his own grief mirroring hers. even he knew the likely outcome of this. grasping onto the flickering flame of hope amidst the encroaching darkness, she spoke quietly to her husband "you are a good man, owen stark. you have a good soul. you doubt yourself i know you do…" she whispered, her voice trembling with conviction. "promise me you won't lose that." rosa could swear she saw a tear moving down his cheek, “i wont.” he promised, his voice tight. quiet and solumn as he made his promise. and so, as the night wore on and the castle fell into a hushed stillness, the cries of a newborn babe pierced the air, a beacon of life amidst the shroud of sorrow. the child was saved, but queen rosalyn was lost to them, her sacrifice felt by all those around her. the child that survived has been named rosalyn jeyne stark. a baby with red hair like her mothers. queen rosalyn will be buried in the crypts of the north, in the customs of the land she had gotten to embrace and call her own. @owenstark