The North
The Wall
Daenerys stood between two wooden watchtower balconies on the top of the Wall, looking out to the south, at the destroyed Castle Black, the collapsed portion of the Wall that she caused with her dragons months ago, and the relatively barren landscape to the south. Daenerys rode atop Drogon to the very North, landing atop the Wall, and was accompanied by the white dragon Aego. The wind tugged at her braided hair, she felt bits of ice and snow hit her face and begin to harden on her eyebrows. It was colder than she last remembered.
Drogon and Aego were perched atop either side of Daenerys on the Wall, both looking south, as if they were admiring their territory. Neither dragon, however, liked the cold. Aego kept chittering and grunting, trying to keep himself warm.
"They are still trying to revolt." said Daenerys, loud enough for her dragons to hear. Aego slowly turned his head to look at the Empress. Daenerys didn't look at either of them, continuing to stare out at the snowy hills. "They are going to do everything they can to kill me." she added.
"Then they must be destroyed before you are destroyed." echoed the booming voice of Aego, telepathically to Daenerys. Daenerys pursed her lips and glanced down at her enlarged abdomen. She was due any day now, merely moments until she would give birth to her child, and then she could resume her plans of world domination. She looked back up, out at the snow-covered road that led up to the ruins of Castle Black.
Daenerys focused on the gate to Castle Black which was still standing somehow, and stared at the wooden gate. Her heart began to race as she cleared her mind. She started to hear her unborn child's heartbeat, synchronized with Aego and Drogon's heartbeats. The stone gateway structure of the castle ruins began to collapse, crumbling inward. The wooden doors fell over, becoming engulfed in a cloud of snow and dust. There were rumbling sounds coming from the ground, and Daenerys clenched her jaw. Drogon roared gently at his mother with concern. An enormous crack erupted on the road before the ruined gate, shooting further south by another dozen meters or so. The crack separated, letting out a gust of wind and an ungodly bellow. Daenerys stumbled back, feeling a draining feeling in her mind. She looked over at Drogon, who was staring at the cracking landscape with wide eyes. She walked over to the black dragon and struggled to climb atop his back onto the saddle.
Drogon glided down from the Wall, being followed by Aego at her right, flying south. Daenerys heard rumbling and deep boom sounds, wondering if it was coming from Drogon's stomach.
"You alright?" she muttered, patting Drogon's shoulder. Drogon chittered but continued flying normally. Daenerys looked over her shoulder. The landscape was changing. They were being trailed by collapsing land, caving inward, the hills crumbling like dust into chasms of dust and dirt. It was coming from Castle Black and the Wall. More of the icy fortress that had protected Westeros for millennia was falling apart. Massive chunks of ice crashed downward onto the snowy landscape. The patches of pasty green grass across the hills were being scorched right as Daenerys flew over, and then sunk inward. She felt a chill in her back, and clenched her jaw nervously. What was going on? Were her dragons summoning some ancient black magic? It was Ashemark all over again…
Meereen
Great Pyramid
Daario Naharis
The long brown haired regent ruler of Meereen sat at the bottom of the mosaically tiled steps in the old throne room, where in front of him was Kinvara the Red Priestess, standing before a fire in a newly built pit that was about four feet wide. Daario stared into the flames, listening to the statuesque priestess perform a ritual, tossing some sort of spices into the flames, pinch by pinch from a brown pouch. She was whispering in some ancient tongue, Daario had no idea what she was saying. It had some similarities to Dothraki, but he didn't understand Dothraki either. Perhaps he was just too ignorant about ancient languages.
He asked for Kinvara's help in determining the status of Daenerys - his Empress. It had been weeks since he rescued her from Vaes Dothrak, where she was attacked by some feral dragons from the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai. Feral dragon attacks were becoming more prevalent across southern Essos. The lords of Yi Ti were continuously asking for military support to defend their cities. Nobody west of Yi Ti had taken the time to investigate these attacks, they were only going off the word of the Yi Ti. But Daario didn't want to just relay help to Daenerys, he wanted to see her.
He wanted to feel her touch, and feel her skin.
"Are you feeling weary, Lord Daario?" asked Kinvara, breaking Daario's train of thought, and he looked up from the fire up to Kinvara. She was standing on the other side of the pit, and from Daario's point of view, looked as if she were submerged in the flames. Alas, only one woman could do such a thing.
"Weary? I'm never weary." scoffed Daario jokingly, resting his arms on his knees, looking back into the fire.
"Your eyes say otherwise." noted Kinvara, "And your posture." Daario looked down at himself, realizing he was slouching forward. The young man stood up and stood straight, crossing his arms.
"Do you see anything? Do you see her?" asked Daario, trying to change the subject. Kinvara inhaled deeply,
"No, nothing yet. My vision has been blurred as of late." she seemed disappointed, "I suggest you go to Queen's Landing yourself, if you really wish to see her." Daario was almost offended by the suggestion. He couldn't do that. Daenerys banned him, after that fateful night together. He let his hormonal instincts overtake his body and mind, he treated the love of his life as an object, and he regretted it.
"I-I can't go now."
"If you really think that child is yours, you have every right to let her know." said Kinvara softly, walking around the fire pit, over to Daario. She had kind eyes, and looked up at the Lord of Meereen.
"There isn't even a way to prove it, there's no point."
"That is not true." insisted the priestess, "Jon Snow is a Targaryen, the likelihood of that child coming out with white hair is far greater than normal."
"Dark hair always supersedes light hair, it's the way nature works." contested Daario, "That's not a good way of determining if that baby is mine." he didn't have much hope.
"There is an old ritual I can try." said Kinvara quietly, looking back down at the flames, "But it requires blood of the child." Daario didn't really like the sound of that. He didn't want to inflict any form of harm on the child of Daenerys. He'd rather live not knowing if it was his own son or daughter than hurting him or her.
"No, no. We're not doing that." Daario shook his head. Kinvara's eyes widened as she looked into the fire, it was crackling a little bit louder, sparkling embers out onto the floor. Daario noticed her focused stare. "What is it?" he asked.
"The baby is coming." Kinvara said simply.
Queen's Landing
The Red Keep
Drogon, Aego, Rhael, Joraerys, Visenyara, Rhaenysa, Baleria, Naeryx, and Iraexes all flew in a wide circle over the highest towers of the Red Keep, roaring and bellowing in the bright blue skies, their screeches echoing throughout the entire capital. Lately, it was a common sight for the citizens of Queen's Landing to see dragons, but not like this, not all nine together. Many were still afraid and skeptical of their presence, extremely fearful that in an instant they'd be turned against the city. Bells rang from the septs throughout the city, large and small, and a few bells from the castle as well. The heir to the Targaryen Empire was born.
Daenerys gulped as much water as she could from a large cup that Maester Javitz held for her. He used his free hand to dab the sweat off of Daenerys' forehead. She spent the last three hours in labor, successfully giving birth to a baby girl. Jon was at her side, holding Daenerys' hand, but was gazing at the small cradle where Naia and another servant were cleaning the baby. The newborn was crying softly, not wailing or screaming as Daenerys or Jon expected. Daenerys gently pushed away the cup of water,
"I want to see her." she said tiredly. Javitz got up nodding his head. He looked over at Naia and the female servant, they were finished. Naia slowly picked up the swaddled baby, and handed her over to Jon. The newborn stopped crying as Jon held her for a moment. He looked at her round face, her plump cheeks, her skin wasn't too pale or too red. Jon gave the baby to Daenerys, and her eyes lit up upon seeing her daughter.
"Oh wow…" she said in awe, smiling, holding the baby closely to her chest. Tears swelled in Daenerys' eyes, and she started shaking her head in disbelief. She couldn't look away from her round face.
"She's beautiful." said Jon warmly, on his knees at Daenerys' bedside, close to the wrapped up baby. The baby girl opened her eyes for a moment, and quickly shut them, nuzzling further into her swaddle blanket. "Our daughter." said Jon emotionally. He chuckled, his heart was flush with love and peace, reaching for the baby's tiny hand. The newborn girl grabbed onto Jon's index finger, holding it gently.
"Our princess." whispered Daenerys, leaning forward to kiss her daughter on her forehead.
"What are we to name her?" asked Jon, looking up at Daenerys.
"Jaesaera." said Daenerys softly, she looked at Jon, "Jaesa means goddess in high Valyrian." The newborn girl opened her eyes again, looking at her mother. Daenerys grinned, "Hello, my love, my little Jaesaera."