Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Ice and Fire Novels, Game of Thrones and House of the Dragon TV shows. However, I decided to have a little play around with the characters. I do not earn any money from writing these stories, it is for my entertainment and is something I like to share.

Warning for descriptions of miscarriage

Arya V

Arya stood beside Drogon, on the other side was Sansa and in front of the dragon stood Jon, who was only wearing his breeches. Arya wanted to avert her eyes, because even though she could admit he had a well built physique, he was her brother and it wasn't what she wanted to see. It was when he stretched his arms out did she realise what he was about to do.

"Dracarys!" Jon cried as Drogon breathed out a stream of fire, her brother disappearing into the flames.

"Jon!" Arya cried, although she knew nobody would hear her over the roar of the dragon. That was when the pain started.

When Arya had trained with the faceless men, she had been stabbed in the belly multiple times by a girl she knew only as the Waif. The pain had been excruciating back then, but it was nothing in comparison to the pain she felt now. It felt like her belly was being sliced open and her insides ripped out, and being dragged all the way to the pyre where the living men burned. Arya knew what it was, for the last couple of weeks, her fear that she was with child had started to feel more and more real. Children were not what Arya wanted, that was for Sansa and Jon. She had almost wanted it to go away, but now it was being dragged from her body, she felt a small piece of her die with it. She felt guilty about not wanting it, a feeling which was almost as painful as the pain in her stomach.

Drogon stopped, although the men continued to burn. Arya was on the floor, rolling around. She saw a completely naked Jon running over to Sansa, who was also on the floor, her dress red with blood. Arya looked down at her breeches and saw the same and screamed. She couldn't hear what was being said as chaos seemed to surround her. Suddenly strong arms were lifting her up.

"I've got you, you're okay." the voice of a man said.

"Jon?" Arya whispered.

"Has got a little cock. Not sure what your sister sees in him." the man joked. Arya peeked up wondering if it were Tormund, although his accent was very different. The man she saw did not have a typical look of a wildling. He looked to be a similar age to Jon, had light blonde hair, almost silver, a handsome but gentle face and pale skin. She couldn't make out his eyes, but she guessed they were blue. His arms were strong and solid and she noticed he didn't have the unpleasant odour of stale sweat which most wildlings had. Although he did smell of fire and blood, probably from the battle. Arya remembered she'd seen him in Sansa's chambers earlier, but she never got the chance to find out who he was.

"Who are you?" Arya whispered, her voice hoarse from the smoke.

"Strygga." the man told her. "I'm a friend of Jon's from beyond the wall."

"A wildling?" she asked.

"Half wildling. My mother was originally from Pentos, my father was one of the Freefolk." he told her. "My mother was seen as a threat and sent north."

"Why?" Arya asked.

"Let me get you to Sansa's chambers." he told her, sidestepping her question.

"No." Arya complained. "I want mine."

"But Maester Wolkan needs to treat you both." Strygga said.

"My room is next to hers. Unfortunately." she added. "Why does Sansa need to see the Maester?"

"For the same reason as you I believe." Strygga told her.

"I didn't know she was pregnant." Arya frowned. "Although with those two..." she tried to joke to make herself feel better.

"I doubt she knew herself. They've only been wed a few weeks." he reminded her as they caught up with Jon and Sansa.

"Arya." Sansa reached out, her eyes were as red as her dress. "You too?"

Arya nodded. "I'm sorry." she whispered.

"Me too." Sansa cried as they split off into their respective rooms.

Strygga gently laid Arya down on her bed and covered her with furs. "The Maester will be here soon." he smiled a beautiful smile, with surprisingly good teeth for a wildling. "Do you want me to help you get into a nightdress? It will stop your breeches from being ruined."

The pain had abated for a minute so she climbed out of bed and got changed behind her screen, trying her hardest not to cry. She didn't want anyone to see her tears, maybe only Sansa because her sister would understand. She'd just slipped the long nightdress on when the pain started again, the cramps were agonising and seemed to come in waves.

"Aargh." she cried as she doubled up once more, managing to catch herself with the edge of the screen.

"Let me get you." Strygga rushed over and lifted her up.

"I'm bleeding everywhere." Arya complained. "I don't want to..."

"I've just come off a muddy battlefield. I don't think I'm going to ruin my clothes." Strygga chided her as he lay her down in the bed once more. "Where in the fuck is that Maester?" he muttered.

Arya had to chuckle, despite her pain. "I think he is making sure the Queen is comfortable." she said as the waves of pain subsided for a moment.

"You are just as important!" Strygga insisted. "All he needs to do is give her some milk of the poppy and let Jon do the rest." he growled. "Would you like me to sing to you?" he asked.

"Are you any good?" Arya asked, anything to take her mind away from what was happening to her.

"I am." Strygga nodded, looking almost affronted at the question.

Just then there was a knock at the door. "Hello?" Arya called out.

"It's me, Maester Wolkan." came the maester's voice from the other side of the door.

"Come in." Arya said as Strygga stood up to leave as Maester Wolkan entered the room. "Don't go." Arya pleaded, having no idea why she wanted him to stay, she didn't even know him, but he did make her feel more calm.

"I will need to do an examination." Maester Wolkan warned Arya.

"You don't need me to help do you?" Strygga frowned. "You do know what you are doing?" he sounded concerned.

"I most certainly do. I was concerned about preserving Princess Arya's...dignity." Maester Wolkan stammered.

"It's a bit fucking late for that, otherwise I wouldn't be in this state right now." Arya said angrily as another wave of pain hit her, she looked up at Strygga. "You can stay and hold my hand." she whispered, knowing there was nobody here to support her because Jon was grieving the loss of his own child with Sansa. The idea of loneliness had never bothered Arya, she'd never needed anyone. She'd managed through the deaths of her parents, her brothers and through so much in her life, she had almost become immune to emotional pain. But this was different, and she needed someone to be there for her, even if it was just to pretend to care for an hour or two.

Strygga smiled and sat on the chair next to her and gently took her hand in his, while Maester Wolkan lifted her knees up and made a tent with a sheet over her legs to hide her privacy and began to poke about, which Arya found completely humiliating.

"Styrgga frowned. "You are strong for such a little one." he said, glancing down at the hand she was gripping.

"Sorry." Arya apologised. "I tend to surprise everyone with my strength. Ouch!" she cried as Maester Wolkan prodded a particularly sensitive area.

"I do apologise." Maester Wolkan mumbled. "Nearly done." he said as she felt the warmth of the candle between her legs disappear and his head pop up. "You can put your legs down now." he said, getting up and going over to the wash bowl and rinsing the blood from his hands. "Everything has come away cleanly, you will feel some discomfort for a little while longer though."

"How long?" Arya asked.

"The worst of it is probably over, but the pain will come and go over the next few hours, maybe even days. It will be like the pain you get from your moon blood." Maester Wolkan explained. "But right now, I would recommend some milk of the poppy just to help you get some rest. A weak mixture, just enough to ease the pain." he suggested.

"I don't want it." Arya insisted.

"I'll leave it here in case you change your mind." Maester Wolkan said.

"Is she going to be alright?" Strygga asked. "She'll still be able to have children?"

Maester Wolkan smiled. "Of course. It isn't unusual to miscarry in early pregnancy, especially the first time."

"And Sansa?" Arya asked. "Is she alright?"

"The Queen is well but very upset." Maester Wolkan sighed. "I don't think she even knew. But she'll be able to have a child as soon as she and the His Grace are ready to try again."

"That's when I'll be needing the milk of the poppy." Arya said under her breath, but she knew Strygga had heard her as a small smile appeared on his face.

"That bad?" he asked.

"You have no idea." Arya nodded as the Maester left the room.

"Here." Strygga held out to her some milk of the poppy.

Arya shook her head. "The pain has eased a little." she told him.

"Does your husband need to know?" he asked.

Arya frowned. "I'm not married." she said.

"But you are a Princess." Strygga eyed her curiously.

"Does being a Princess mean I'm not allowed a sex life?" she raised an eyebrow. "How would you even know? You don't have princesses beyond the wall."

"As I said, my mother was from Pentos, her father was... a Prince, although living in exile." he said. "I'm not like the other Freefolk, my mother taught me how to read and write. She taught me the rules of royal etiquette, as best she could remember. My grandfather sent her north after Robert's rebellion, saying it wasn't safe for his children, even in Pentos. He had four sons and five daughters. They were sent to places where they would be safe while my grandfather moved east." he told her.

"What was your grandfather called?" Arya asked.

"Maegor." Strygga told her. "His father was called Aerion and mother Daenora. Aerion was the brother of another King Aegon." he said.

"You're a Targaryen?" Arya asked and Strygga nodded. "Does Jon know?"

"He does. I suppose he's my cousin." he smiled. "He's told me all about what has happened since Robert's rebellion.

"Is your mother still alive?" Arya asked.

"Aye." Strygga smiled. "She was up at Castle Black last I saw her."

"I thought you were different from the others. Does your mother look like a Targaryen?" she asked.

"She's got blue eyes like me and her hair is now silvering from age." he smiled. "But it was once similar to mine, maybe more silver."

"Did your mother tell you what happened to your great grandfather?" Arya asked.

"He drank wildfire because he was convinced he was a real dragon." Strygga laughed. "I think he was wrong." he frowned. "If he was a real dragon, he'd have been able to do what Jon just did." he shook his head. "That was amazing. Did you see how the people reacted or were you in too much pain?" he asked.

"I was on the floor." Arya admitted.

"They all knelt. They think he is a god." Strygga told her.

"He's already risen from the dead once." Arya grinned but quickly stopped as another sudden wave of pain hit her.

"Here, drink this." Strygga held out the milk of the poppy.

Arya shook her head. "It's not as bad as it was." she began to take deep breaths as the pain subside once again, as there was a knock at the door. Strygga got up and answered it.

"She's not taking visitors." Strygga said.

"Jon told me to give this to her." Arya heard Tyrion's voice from the other side of the door.

"Let him in." Arya called out as Tyrion walked in with the dragons egg she had been so fascinated with. He wore gloves to hold it, which suggested to Arya that it was still hot.

"Jon says this might ease the pain. It worked for Sansa. But only you can touch it." Tyrion told her. "I don't think it is hot, but the egg can help heal you."

"That wasn't in any of the books?" Arya frowned as she took the egg from Tyrion, which turned out to be warm, but not too hot. She held it to her belly and a calm washed over her. "He's right, this is better than milk of the poppy. How did he know?"

"Drogon, from what I can gather." Tyrion shrugged. "Jon's connection with him goes deep, possibly even deeper than it did with that of Daenerys, which is strange as she was his mother."

"How many eggs are left?" Arya asked.

"There is the one you have and the one Sansa has, plus another five were found with Drogon. I think he may have dug them up from the the other pool." Tyrion told her.

"So we need to find seven Targaryens." Arya glanced over at Strygga. "Any idea where to start?"

"We'll have to start looking through the Targaryen family tree and find out what happened to the ones who were married off elsewhere. There is also house Velaryon, they have Targaryen blood mixed in with theirs. They have always been loyal to house Targaryen, I see no reason for that to be any different."

"At Sharp Point, I got the impression the people there were already portraying Jon as some kind of god." Arya said.

"Good job they didn't witness what we did then." Strygga smiled.

"I know. Gracious." Tyrion shook his head. "That was impressive."

Strygga frowned. "Don't dragon eggs only hatch with children?" he asked.

Tyrion shook his head. "Daenerys hatched her three eggs when she was an adult. It is all about bonding."

"What about the eggs Sansa and I are looking after?" Arya asked.

"The eggs have healing properties. Jon seemed to know they would take away your pain. I don't know what he plans to do with them afterwards." Tyrion said as he got up. "Right I'm off to bed, it is late and I need my beauty sleep." he said.

"Thank you." Arya smiled.

"Your welcome." Tyrion replied and left her with Strygga.

"You can go and rest too if you want." Arya smiled. "I'm comfortable." she yawned. "In fact I really want to get some sleep." she added.

"You go to sleep and then I'll leave." Strygga promised.

"Ok." Arya nodded, yawning once more. She couldn't understand it, she never felt more tired in her life. She curled up with the egg in her arms, which felt soothing, despite its scaly appearance.

As she fell asleep, Arya began to dream. She was still a babe, cocooned in her mothers arms, except it wasn't her own mother, it was someone else. Someone she couldn't see. She could feel the love and warmth surrounding her, but she wanted to see her mother. That was when she realised she was in a box of some kind, and she wanted to get out. Arya began to hammer her fists against the walls of the box and cry out, but her voice only came out as a childlike screech. She hit the box with her feet, which seemed to be a better idea than with her fists. The box was beginning to give, she just had to keep kicking it. Finally her foot went through the box and she could feel the air around her, then everything turned into colours and soon she was in a dreamless sleep.

Arya felt someone slap her on the face. She didn't want to open her eyes as she was having the best sleep she could remember, but the slapping was annoying her, even if it wasn't painful. To stop them, Arya opened on eye and froze. Curled up on the bed in front of her was a tiny grey and white baby dragon, its wings flapping with excitement as it stared at her. Arya sat up and looked around for the egg, she saw it broken into pieces and smiled.

"Hello little one." she whispered, tickling it under its chin, which it clearly liked as it made a cooing noise. "Now what are we going to call you?" she asked.

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