A fair number of hours later, it was time.
Jorah sat next to Daenerys, allowing her to squeeze his hand with all her might despite how it was affecting his blood circulation. Missandei kept a cup of melted snow nearby, applying it to Daenerys' face and adding words of encouragement when she could.
"You're almost there," one of the midwives said. "Any moment now,"
Daenerys tried to diffuse the pain by conjuring images and positive reinforcements in her mind. "I will have a son, Geor," she thought, imagining a child in her arms, "Or a daughter, Rhaella. After years of running, of wishing, of dreaming, I will finally have a family,"
Then, with one final strained effort, the child arrived.
Daenerys fell backwards as she gasped from exhaustion. She'd done it. Her baby was here. Then, after a second, a realization came to her.
"Why isn't the baby crying?"
Though tears of pain blurred her vision, Daenerys could make out two of the midwives carrying the child to the side and talking amongst themselves. "Jorah," she asked as her voice went up an octave, "What's going on? Is the baby okay?" Her words may as well have fallen on deaf ears because he didn't respond, only continued looking in the direction of the midwives.
Finally, one of the midwives spoke. "I'm sorry, your Grace, but your son did not make it. Based on the condition, he's been gone for a few weeks,"
"That's impossible!" she cried. "I felt him moving as we rode towards Drogon, I know I did. You have to do something,"
"I'm sorry, but there is nothing we can do,"
Daenerys felt like a weight had pinned her to the cavern floor. Her mind was a hollowed slate as her consciousness was a mix of pain and unbelief, until she saw a female figure standing at the mouth of the tunnel. Propping herself up on her elbows, she realized it was the beggar woman who had made the prophecy back in Essos: "It is only when the magic is no more than you may receive what has been taken away,"
"My last dragon is gone!" Daenerys shouted at the woman. "The magic is no more. You promised I would receive what had been taken away!"
"Your Grace," Missandei asked cautiously, "Who are you speaking to? There is no one there,"
A burst of winter wind raged through the tunnel. As it touched the phantom woman she blew away like ash, as if she'd never been present. The prophecy had been fulfilled.
Daenerys thought back to the blood she'd seen on the bedsheets a few weeks prior. Was that the moment she lost her son? Did the disappearance of the magic not come soon enough?
It was in that heartbreaking moment that Daenerys realized the Iron Throne was not her deepest desire; it was to have a family. Let someone else take the throne, the crown, the jewels, even if it was that wretched Cersei! All Daenerys wanted was a babe in her arms and Jorah by her side. Power was nothing compared to love.
Then, without warning, a new round of searing pain cut across Daenerys' abdomen. Her screams finally breaking Jorah from his trance, he asked "What's happening?" One of the midwives rushed over, but when she didn't respond immediately, Jorah thundered "WHAT'S HAPPENING TO HER?"
The woman set to work, pulling on all the knowledge she had, until a look of surprise overtook her face. "She's carrying another,"
"What?" Daenerys was barely able to speak anymore.
"You've been carrying twins your Grace,"
Jorah's grip on Daenerys tightened at the news.
Now it was Missandei's turn to be upset. "You three are supposed to be some of the best midwives in Essos!" she said angrily. "How could you NOT know she was carrying twins this entire time?"
"There were no indications," the other midwife said as she hurried over, "Nor did we have any record of the Queen's previous weight to compare,"
Her head swimming from pain and everything she'd learned in the last few minutes, Daenerys closed her eyes as she laid back on the ground. She was only vaguely aware of Missandei wiping her brow with snowmelt.
"Be strong, no matter what the cost," she thought. "Your cub needs you now more than ever,"
Grasping Jorah's hand once more, she gave all she had until she heard the newborn's cries.
"It's a girl!" one of the midwives announced. Quickly wrapping the newborn in a blanket and severing the tie between mother and child, the baby was presented to the new parents.
Daenerys couldn't stop crying when Rhaella was placed in her arms. The babe was perfect in every way, from her small pink face to the short wisps of white-blonde hair on her tiny head. The newborn cried, but only because of the change in temperature and setting. In that moment it was the sweetest sound Daenerys had ever heard, for it meant life.
"Our daughter," Jorah cried, his own eyes shinning with tears as he kissed Daenerys and carefully stroked the blanketed bundle. "She's finally here,"
[First and foremost, I want to apologize if I upset anyone with Daenerys having a stillborn. The plan was to just give Daenerys a healthy daughter, but the decision on the twins was twofold: 1. Daenerys is one of three children, and she has three dragons. In continuing with the use of the number three, while reading "A Clash of Kings", it's also mentioned in one of the Daenerys' chapters that there are many things that come in threes. With regards to my story, Rhaego would be Daenerys' first child, while the are the second and third. 2. For anyone who's seen season eight, we know Daenerys became blinded by power. In this story, the death of another child would allow character development in the sense that Daenerys would realize power wasn't everything, especially without love or family.
Now, with all that being said, you can find the next story in the series under "A Mother's Armor".]