A/N: Hey everyone! We've come to the final chapter... a short one, but still packed with goodness to wrap everything up.
Next planned story will be a Modern AU short, pure Jonerys :)
Enjoy and comment!
"I suppose it must feel good to have your sight back."
For the first time in decades, Aemon was able to walk without worrying his knees would give out under him. His skin was wrinkle free, hair a brilliant silver rather than white and wispy. "It is strange, especially the young man that watches me through the looking glass."
Beside him was an absolutely gorgeous woman, her eyes the lightest of indigo, skin pale as milk, and hair almost translucent. The purest of all Valyrian beauties. "Didn't you lose your sight before you grew old and wizened?"
Aemon chuckled. "When one is blind, my dear, then the other senses take over. I can 'see' a person through the touch of the hand."
"That… makes sense."
The two walked along a beautiful meadow, alone. "Truthfully, I never thought my welcome in the afterlife would be this… calm. Always expected something more boisterous as befitting the house of the dragon."
Grinning, she kissed Aemon on the cheek. "That's waiting for you… I always just meet with the new arrivals first to settle them in."
"No need to do that for me. I was always ready… just needed to see some things through in the mortal realm first." They continued to walk in silence, enjoying the tranquility. "I also did not expect that it would be you that greeted me, Daenys."
Daenys Targaryen - known to all as Daenys the Dreamer, smiled warmly at Aemon. "It was my doing that saved our house, and thus I suppose I'm a patron saint of the remaining dragonriders." A sigh left her lips. "It was a close run thing at times."
"Aye, too close for comfort. I had seen us at our nadir while I was alive."
"You think that was bad? Once I thought that our dear Daemon would stab Daenerys through the heart with a dagger… last time I let Saera and Blackfyre spike my drink with something Tyanna cooked up in her secret lab." Daenys shook her head. "But no longer. We are back and stronger than ever."
Able to see young Jon, Rhae, and Dany surrounded by love as their little siblings felt the babes kick within the Princesses' wombs, Aemon could only sigh happily at the last memory of his mortal soul. "Aye, we are. I only wish I could've lived to see the babes born."
Daenys chuckled. "Would you like to?"
Aemon's brow rose. "Is that possible?"
A dainty arm was thrown round his shoulder. "Oh, Aemon, I still have much to tell you."
A crackle of lightning illuminated the citadel of Dragonstone, bathing it in an eerie flash of white light. Only seconds later did the thunder boom, shaking even the black stone of the fortress and driving many a young child or worrywart into a state of apprehension - if not outright panic. For the Prince of this keep it was no exception. "Not good, not good," he mumbled, pacing back and forth across the solar. "A horrible omen…"
"Calm down, my son," Rhaegar spoke up, shaking his head. "You're worrying over nothing."
"Over nothing?" There was defiance in Jon's voice, though Rhaegar didn't hold it against him. Frankly, he was holding it together far better than another man would in the same set of circumstances. "Rhae and Dany have been in the birthing chamber for the last sixteen hours! A sleepless night turned to morning turned to evening again and there's still nowhere close to an end!" He stormed across to the edge of the room before turning again and pulling at his hair. "Not to mention what befell my munas!"
On that, Rhaegar had to sigh. Hit by the sudden contractions of both their daughters, Elia and Lyanna had taken charge of the delivery chamber but the stress of it all triggered their own labor. Now Rhaella and Missandei had taken over, banishing both the King and the Prince while all four ladies were confined to bed.
If it wasn't for the roar of the wind and crash of the tumultuous sea, the screams and moans of pain could be heard all the way in the royal quarters. Rhaegar could faintly make them out, and from Jon's consistent grimaces and pained expressions, he could hear them too. Suddenly, he made to grab his cloak. "I'm not standing for this."
"Jon, where are you going?"
"I can't be away from them, they need me! And munas need you too!"
He was about to race off to the birthing room when Rhaegar grabbed his shoulders. "Jon… Jon, sit down."
The Prince tried to break free of the grasp… but it was half-hearted. "Let me go, kepa. I have to be with them…" From his eyes, the young lad seemed more sad and worried than truly angry - a wolf fussing over his birthing mate rather than a dragon defending its creche.
"Were things smooth, I'd happily let you, but the midwife needed no distractions and implored us to depart. She's dealing with enough and can't have your worries to add onto that." His son relented, biting his lip with tears pricking his eyes. A vulnerable moment for the mighty Crown Prince - luckily, Rhaegar would never judge him. "Sit next to me, my son." He guided him to the adjacent chairs, wrapping an arm around Jon's shoulder and holding him close as if he was but ten namedays. "They'll be fine, you know that right?"
Jon's responding look was heartbreaking. "You don't know that."
"No… we can't be completely sure, but I am certain because of our family. We've been blessed by the gods after so long being forsaken by them." Jon said nothing, trying so very hard to be strong but this not being an instance he could be. A mighty warrior, stuck in a situation he can never even do anything to try and protect those he loves. Rhaegar understood Jon more than he wished he could. "I've been in your situation before, my son."
"Yes, kepa, I know that you've had eight children including me… and are soon to have two more." Jon chuckled, a bit of humor managing to come out. "Margaery is due in four moons, and now the future heir to Storm's End is growing within Senya."
"Gods… I'm too young and handsome to be a grandfather," Rhaegar lamented, lightening the mood a little. Catching Jon smiling slightly, he moved back to his point. "But it's not that I've had children… I've endured nearly losing the woman I love in childbirth."
Jon stared at him with wide eyes and jaw slack. "What?"
Rhaegar nodded. "It was Rhae, your sister. Elia had a twenty-four hour labor, and the stress of it triggered Lyanna's after eighteen of those." The memories still made him feel great sorrow and worry. "Things had gotten so dire that I was kicked out as now, and somehow I found myself in the godswood… before the weirwood sapling that your muna planted. I prayed to the old gods to spare Elia and bring a successful birth, pledging to never try anything to dampen their innate spirits." His cunning, saucy Elia, his wild and mischievous Lyanna… both competitive and both passionate. Never once did he break his promise to the gods. "And Rhaenys was born without hassle, you and Dany hours after. Not one problematic birth since."
"Gods, kepa, I had no idea…" Jon felt bad. "I'm sorry."
Kissing him on the crown of his head, the King smiled down at his son. "Don't apologize, just know that the gods smile down on us, my son… and that your brides are as strong as your munas. If anyone can cheat the god of death, it's us Targaryens."
"And the Martells and Starks aren't weak either." Impulsively, Jon hugged his father close. Rhaegar was surprised at first, but reciprocated quickly with a warm smile. I couldn't have asked for a better heir.
The door opening made them both jump. A tired, haggard Missandei appeared in the doorway… she looked like she'd been put into the ringer, but there was a smile on her face. "It's done, your Graces."
Jon blinked, wondering if he'd misheard… that she'd in reality tell him that both his wives and his munas were all lost along with their babes. "Done?"
"Aye, four healthy babes and four mothers demanding their husbands." Before she could even offer congratulations… or the Kingsguards waiting outside to offer theirs, both Jon and Rhaegar were racing out of the solar and down the hallway - desperate to see their beloveds. "Ah, the beauty of true love." Missandei rubbed her flat stomach thoughtfully. "Best let them have their happiness," she murmured. Her Domeric could wait a week before he learned of the joyous news she just discovered.
Ser Barristan just managed to open the door to the birthing room before the dragons smashed it down in their haste to arrive. "Dany! Rhae!" Jon cried out, eyes wild and frantically searching. Rhaegar, more circumspect even if he was equally frantic, merely looked around for his loves.
"Jon!" The Prince found Rhaenys and rushed to her side. Dany was also there, the two of them sharing a bed. They looked tired and pale, a sheen of sweat covering their bodies and soaking their nightgowns… but by the gods there were the widest smiles on their faces - more than even from their wedding. "You're here."
"I wouldn't be anywhere else," he murmured, burying his face in her hair. The smell alone reassured him that they were alive… especially as Dany reached out to squeeze his hand. "Thank the gods you're safe."
A tired laugh from Daenerys. "After the lengths we went to marry you, this is nothing."
Kissing her hand, a tiny gurgle drew him out of his reverie and made his eyes widen. Nestled in between his wives were two tiny bundles wrapped in red blankets. Pink faced and both with thatches of silver hair. "My loves…"
"Meet your son and daughter, Prince Daemon," Dany beamed. One, the boy, had Rhae's tanned skin while the other, his daughter, was perfectly Valyrian like Dany. "Your son, Prince Aegon."
"Aegon…" Jon picked up the boy in his arms, nestled in between. "A strong name for a strong son." The boy cooed and wriggled in his kepa's hold. "I love you, my son." Only with Rhae and Dany did he ever feel such a surge of affection for a living being - Ghost and Vhagar didn't count… they were extensions of him through their bond. "And our little girl?" Jon handed Aegon back to his muna.
Dany rocked their daughter in her arms. "We thought you'd want to name her."
"I mean, I had some great ideas, but it should come from you," Rhaenys added.
Nodding, feeling as if he were in a dream he didn't wish to wake up from, Jon's hands trembled as he lifted his as yet unnamed daughter into his arms. The girl cooed, eyes opening to reveal two grey orbs looking at him. Stark eyes that stared in wonder at her kepa. Not the Crown Prince. Not the future King. Not the mighty Lightbringer… but kepa. "Viserra," he said simply. "Princess Viserra Targaryen." The name just seemed perfect.
"That's what I suggested!" Rhaenys said.
"No it wasn't."
"Shut up."
Rocking little Viserra, Jon looked to Rhaegar and his munas. Both Lyanna and Elia were crying happy tears as Rhaegar held both of his newborns - one in each arm. Also a boy and a girl, the former with Elia's dark hair and the latter as fair as Lyanna. The Stark a girl and the Martell a boy… like us. "Congratulations, munas, kepa."
Rhaegar half-laughed, half-cried at how happy he was. "Baelon, Shaena, that's your brother over there." Both babes took that moment to yawn… which was infectious as first Viserra, then Aegon did so as well.
All as it should be, the newest souls of House Targaryen smiled on by their blood upon the earth… and though they didn't see it, all the dragons before them.
A/N: Aegon, Viserra, Baelon, and Shaena. Plenty of love in the Red Keep coming up, as well as potential future marriages XD
The most recent Targ in the afterlife with the most ancient one.
Thank you for reading, my friends! Be sure to leave a comment telling me what you think :D
