"Mama? Mama! Mama, up!"
A small, clammy hand was repeatedly patting Dany's cheek. There was light in front of her eyelids. It was much too bright. Why was it bright? Hadn't she just gone to sleep a moment ago?
"Up! Up!"
"Mmm, no, ēdrugon. Ziry iksos nykeēdrosa ēdrugon jēda."
"Mama, bē!"
Dany opened her eyes to tired slits. Her daughter was sitting in front of her, tiny hand still patting her mother's cheek, looking quite pleased with herself. At another time, Dany would have been pleased as well. Rose's language had progressed very well, not only in Common Tongue but also in Valyrian. She tended to speak to her parents in a broken mix of both, using whichever word she could find first. Like her mother, however, she always switched to Valyrian when frustrated.
"Lo nyke līs," Dany sighed, gently removing Rose's hand from her face. Slowly, she rolled from her side to her back. Her left hand brushed against something more than rumpled furs next to her. For a bed with one of its occupants missing, thought Dany, it's quite crowded. She rolled her head to the left and found a large, black-padded back paw mere inches from her nose. The direwolf it belonged to, she saw enviously, was dreaming. His toes were flexing as he slept, as if he were balancing on something slippery.
Smiling to herself, Dany turned her head back to look straight up and stretched her arms back, feeling wakefulness begin to flood through her. It did not do much to help with the lingering fatigue, the feelings simply seemed to overlap rather than one banishing the other. And it's because of you,little one, she thought, looking down at her quiet, swollen belly. Clearly Ghost and the baby had the same thought about how to spend their morning.
"Mama!" huffed Rose.
"I'm here, Rosie. Mama just needed a second to wake - Rose!" Dany gasped as she looked to see her daughter wobbling dangerously over top of her, having stood up on the lumpy bed. She toppled, Dany froze.
"Oh, don't wanna do that, Rosie!"
Dany peeked out from her wince to see that Jon had suddenly appeared overtop of them, now holding onto Rose, whose violet eyes were wide with excitement at the sudden occurrence of events. Beneath his beard, the kiss of cold was visible upon Jon's cheeks. "Busy this morning?" she asked.
"Sorry, I thought she'd sleep a little longer in bed with you. I took Embar for a ride," said Jon, shifting Rose onto his hip before leaning down and kissing her sweetly. It filled her with warmth and ended much too quickly as Jon turned away to set Rose on the floor.
"All quiet?"
"Unless you count the wind," Jon replied evenly as he shed his outer layer.
This discussion, in varying forms of the same, had become a tradition recently. True to her word, Willa had wasted no time telling Jon and Tormund about the encounter she and Dany had in the woods with Inniq. Surprisingly, Tormund was the voice of calm amidst the angry cursing that ensued.
He had placed his hands on her shoulders from behind, rubbing them as he spoke gently. "Shh, ástin, quiet yourself." Gesturing to Dany, he said more in his normal standards of gruffness, "We have no way of knowing for certain that it's been him all along. Folks have always felt watched in the woods. Just because the Dead are gone doesn't mean that feeling stops."
Peripherally, Dany saw Jon nodding and wondered if he was remembering his past ventures as Tormund continued. "But, I believe you, Dany. That you think someone's been around. We can't be wild about it this time, though, not now," she saw his eyes flick infinitesimally, but it was too quick to see where they went. She slid a hand over her stomach and felt Jon settle one on her hip as well. "I'm not of the mind to run anyone out of our clan without more proof, even if they are as useless as that speck of mold," Tormund said darkly, "But, gods help me, I swear if you're right, that fucker will wish he had never been created."
Willa still looked like an angry lioness, and Dany could see Jon grinding his jaw, but she could not help but agree with the red man. Tormund's just words had echoed her earlier decision and appealed to the values she once prized herself on: there were other things to concentrate on right now, and she had no true proof.
As a result of this conversation, Jon walked the periphery of their clearing every morning and evening. He never really explained the decision to Dany, but she had no qualms. Her own nagging suspicions about Inniq, forcibly shunted to the side for now, though they reared their head quite often, had been kept out of the discussion. No use in seeing their disbelieving faces anymore, she decided sourly.
Jon had taken off his boots and placed them properly by the door. "Breakfast or daughter?" he asked her, dropping a kiss onto her nose.
"I think you'd best wrangle her this morning," said Dany, pushing herself upright and shifting to dangle her legs off the bed. "Not sure I can- ooh." She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a second.
Before she opened them, Jon had brushed his hand over her cheek, fingers caressing her gently. "I'm fine, mahrazhkem," she said when she saw his worried face. "Do you remember these from last time?"
He sighed, shaking his head slightly. "Aye," he murmured, "doesn't mean I like watching you go through it."
"Hmm," she hummed, leaning her forehead against his. "Just means we're closer to having the baby in our arms now."
They stayed, foreheads together, taking in each other, until the sound of little feet pattered from behind Jon. "MM!" Rose demanded. One more kiss placed on Dany's hair, and then he turned around to pick up his daughter.
Dany lay on her bed, half-naked and pricked with cold, looking up at the ceiling and fantasizing about lying in a sun-lit meadow full of lazy, waving grasses, as Willa peered between her legs. "Not too long now," she said, popping out from behind Dany's stomach in a frighteningly disembodied way.
"Please move," said Dany, shutting her eyes and waving her hand rapidly, "it looks like I've given birth to you."
Chuckling, Willa shifted away and straightened up, handing Dany her trousers. "Jon said your contractions were starting when he came into the village yesterday," she told Dany casually.
"The false ones," Dany corrected, endearingly thinking of how confident Jon must have sounded relaying the news. "They started a few days ago, although I think that's just them becoming noticeable."
"Aye, I figured that's what he meant, not blaming him - can't know the difference if you haven't felt it. Still, I think I'll come every day now, okay?"
Dany nodded as she pulled her trousers up and adjusted her clothes more comfortably. Ever at home here, Willa strode over to the hearth area and began filling a pot with water. "Tea?" she asked, producing an aromatic pouch from her person.
"You know where everything is. I'll be back," said Dany, waddling over to the door where her boots lay alone.
Helpfully, Jon had hitched up Ghost and taken Rose with him by sled to check on the snares today. "Might as well make use of the weather," he'd said. Despite all her disbelief and personal chill, even Dany had to admit that it was indeed getting warmer. The air was wetter, but it had the fresh taste of growth now rather than the bitter chill of barren snowscapes. Outside, as she made her way to the back of the house, Dany could see the visible signs of change. Darkened tree bark glinted in the sun, where fresh melt still clung to the rough surfaces. Somehow the leaves and needles had begun to look more vibrant, filling the woods with a brightness she would associate with Free Cities markets rather than the Haunted Woods.
Their little house's roof had several spots where water dripped onto the ground below, creating small, round poke-holes in the snow. As she exposed her lower half and shivered in the crisp air, precariously balancing in a squat with the aid of the small back fence line, she even noticed peeking shoots of green around a couple of the posts. What a difference, Dany thought, remembering the horrible snow storm in which Rose had arrived.
She wondered if this baby would actually be born in spring. There was no way of knowing for certain when one season ended and another began; no white ravens were sent out here to signal the change in season, just a few elders declaring the seasons were shifting. It was also quite possible no white raven would be sent out in the Seven Kingdoms, given that they were all still at war with each other, not even Seven Kingdoms any longer. Were maesters above that? Doubtful. Her nostrils flared in memory of that world, steeped in conflict and deceit, tearing itself apart. Nobody could be above that. And yet, she still cared about many of the people bound to be in the thick of it. No word had reached them of how the North was faring. With everything that had happened, they had barely a moment to consider how to find out. But she knew she was not the only one in her family to have thoughts wandering south. Again, however, there were other things to focus on right now. They had left that world, and this unknown was the price they paid for their freedom.
Ruffled, she shook her head and rose from squatting, cleaning herself up before pulling her trousers up once more.
Over steaming cups of Willa's own tea mixture, a certain mix of spice and a flare of ice in the back of the throat, the two women sat at the small, hearthside table in comfortable silence. Dany alternated between sipping her tea, relishing at the warmth sliding down her throat, and rubbing a soothing hand over her active baby.
Willa tilted her cup up to take another drink before remarking, "Enda asked yesterday whether or not the baby kicking was painful."
"Not exactly comfortable now," said Dany, though she smiled cheekily. "Why didn't she come with you?"
"Trying to let her take on some more responsibility, so I left her to take care of the gash Birger got on his hand." She drank from her cup again. "And," she said into the cup, "I figured you might like one less pair of eyes examining you."
Grateful, Dany nodded in agreement. "Though," she said, tilting her head to one side, "she'll have to learn this part of it at some point."
"Oh, aye. Probably'll bring her when this baby's born just to keep an eye on Rose, if that's all right?" Dany nodded again. "But I think she'll have a few other chances soon to learn more."
"Not from me for a while though. Told Jon last night I need a break," said Dany.
Willa snorted into her drink. "With the way you and Jon are? Surprised there was such a break in between these two," she told Dany, gesturing from Rose's room to Dany's belly and waggling her dark brows with a smirk.
Blush seared her cold cheeks. "We're not that overt," she mumbled unconvincingly.
"Sure." Willa winked one golden eye glinting with mirth, and drank again.
Dany scowled, cheeks still burning. "Oh, knock it off, eh?"
"Okay, all right," said Willa, putting her empty cup down, her smile shifting from mischievous to knowing.
"What?" Dany whined, feeling more thoroughly examined than when Willa had her half-naked.
"Your talking's changed a lot." Dany raised one eyebrow. "I mean," said Willa, "you sound different - not bad! - just, more like one of us. Hells, you are one of us, have been since we met. But, you know, before you used to sound more…"
"Kneeler?" Dany supplied. Willa chuckled again.
"Aye," she agreed, "or, maybe freer now?"
Dany smiled, a lightness in her heart. "Freer sounds nice."
Jon was speaking rapid Valyrian. In fact, everyone was. Dany kept walking in circles through a gray, decaying Shadowedge, Jon trailing behind her, trying to find her way out to get home. Rose was home, how could they have left her alone? They had to get home, but every time she turned around, the woods were behind her.
"How do I get out?" she cried, unsure which language she was speaking, to every passing person, "Help me get out!"
Nobody seemed to understand her. They kept babbling and pointing in several directions, grabbing and spinning her around and around so that she lost sight of Jon. Their words were Valyrian, but none of them could speak it properly. Their accents were wrong; she couldn't even figure out what they were saying. Dizzy, the world spinning around her, Dany looked up to the colorless sky to right herself, only to see Drogon and Saphira whirling around each other in a tight, continuous circle.
Suddenly, Drogon dove from the sky, thundering to the ground in front of her. Even her precious dragon was different, foreign. It was like she was seeing him as others did. The black terror opened his jaws wide, a deep rumbling sounding over all the chaos.
"It's me!" she shouted at him, now panicked. "It's me, Drogon!"
She could see the fire at the back of his throat and knew that, this time, she would not be able to walk through it. Why? she prayed desperately, Why is this happening? She could feel the chill of winter and the radiant, deadly heat of the dragon. She was shaking, trying to keep her eyes open, to watch death speed at her and face it to the last breath. The fire grew bigger, her eyes widened.
In her ear, a voice sounded in clear Valyrian for the first time. She knew it. Cold, spiteful. "Bōsa glaesagon se dāria." She heard the roar of dragonfire.
"Daor!" she screamed. The world was spinning, falling, crumbling. She did not feel raw heat, but biting cold. It felt as though she had been plunged into an icy lake, her chest heaving to get grab enough air. Her body was violently trembling, skin and clothes drenched and freezing. Color burst into her vision, sharply contrasted to before, but she still could barely see.
Something grabbed her and she jumped with a yelp, nearly out of her own skin. A low, calm voice spoke to her in Common Tongue over the echoing last Valyrian words she had heard. It was accented, she thought blearily. Her mind could not work out anything past that. "Easy, easy my love. It's over. It's over." She allowed herself to be pulled close, strong arms wrapping around her as a weight knelt next to her in the bed. She was home.
"Jon?" she croaked, slowly able to focus on the warm chest she was being held against. For the first time, Dany noticed she was crying.
Her husband smoothed back her hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. She clung to him, her embrace shaky. As her breathing began to slow, her tears trickling away, Jon moved them so that they were reclining, with Dany lying on his chest. Looking around, she noticed that it was not quite pitch dark out yet.
"Did I miss supper?" she asked quietly.
"Hmm," Jon replied, tracing the planes of her back, "I turned around and you were asleep. Thought it best to let you stay that way as long as possible. Rose is asleep. I was just getting ready to join you when..."
She could hear his frown as he trailed off. His hand moved to wrap over their baby as if he was trying to protect them both. "Dany…" he started carefully, "I know we never talk about the nightmares, that we just try to move on, but...this one scared me. You were screaming. I tried to wake you up and - are you okay?"
Dany stayed silent for a minute. The Valyrian from her dreams was still ringing in her ears, setting her on edge with its ominous message. Long live the Queen. Over his chest, she traced her fingers, mapping him, mapping the real. His hair, his skin, the oval birthmark that stained just over his left hip. Every telling scar, every time she could have lost him, even before she knew him. She owed him her life. And her self.
Breathing deeply, she finally answered him. "It was like my whole world had reversed. Or gone backward," she told him. "We were in Shadowedge - you were there - but it was dead. And everyone was speaking Valyrian, but I couldn't understand it until the end. I don't even know if I was pregnant. And we had left Rose, but I couldn't find my way out of the village. Every time I turned around, it was just in a circle. And then Drogon was there, and he didn't even know who I was. I thought...Jon, I thought I was going to die. I should have known it wasn't real, but I just...couldn't."
Her throat felt constricted again and she swallowed thickly. Perhaps Jon knew her tears were threatening to break through once more for her, held her even closer. "Shh, Dany, love. It was a dream. Drogon could never forget his mother. And we're all still here, safe. And speaking Common Tongue," he added, playfully stroking her nose.
She looked up, giving him a watery smile. "Thank the gods for that," she said. Shifting her position, meaning to curl even closer to Jon if possible, Dany felt the familiarly uncomfortable tightening in her stomach and made a short noise of protest. Her body still felt more sensitive from the nightmare.
Jon stiffened. "Is it…?"
"No, love, not yet," said Dany quietly, taking her turn to brush his nose as she breathed through the contraction. "I think soon, though." She smiled again, and he returned it, leaning his head down to capture her lips. The kiss was soft, but felt almost urgent. When he tried to release her, she reached up and wound her fingers through her hair to keep him in place, suddenly acutely desperate for him. He came willingly, his grip around her tightening and the kiss deepening. Finally, when every last piece of her screamed for air, they broke apart, panting.
"I love you," she breathed, letting go of his hair to gently scrape her fingers through his scalp. "More than I have ever loved anything else in this world. You know that, right?."
"And I you," Jon told her, kissing her hair. "Whatever fears you have, I'll always be here to face them with you. I swear it."
He shifted, nestling them both into bed more. "Rest now," he murmured, "tomorrow you may have some work to do."
Dany nodded against his chest, closing her eyes as Jon resumed tracing along her back. There was no feeling of the pull of sleep yet, but her mind was slowly draining to blank. She relished in the peace.
Lots of Valyrian this time:
"ēdrugon. Ziry iksos nykeēdrosa ēdrugon jēda" - "Sleep. It's still sleep time."
"bē!" - "up!"
"Lo nyke līs." - "If I must."
"Bōsa glaesagon se dāria." - "Long live the Queen." (a nice(?) Lion King vibe for tonight!)
"Daor!" - "No!"
