ᴅᴀᴇɴᴇʀʏꜱ stood alone at the edge of the camp, her silver hair whipping in the wind, eyes fixed on the distant horizon. The weight of loss pressed down on her chest, heavier than any armor. She had been told her son, Rhaego, was gone—stolen by the treacherous magic of Mirri Maz Duur. That knowledge had hollowed her, leaving only ashes in place of hope. But today, something stirred within her, something unexpected.

A sudden flutter in her abdomen brought her hand to Dany's belly. Her breath caught as a feeling long forgotten coursed through her—movement. Her heart raced, and disbelief clouded her thoughts. Rhaego was dead. That was the truth she had accepted. But this... this was impossible.

She stormed into the where the witch was being held before her execution, her voice laced with steel. "What have you done to me?" she demanded, eyes burning with fury.

Mirri Maz Duur looked up, her expression unreadable. “I took what I needed to stop the stallion who mounts the world,” she said coldly.

“But there was more,” Dany insisted, clutching her stomach. "I feel... something."

The witch’s eyes flickered briefly, betraying a sliver of confusion. “Impossible. The boy is no more.”

It hit ᴅᴀᴇɴᴇʀʏꜱ suddenly.

Twins.

Twins were a common occurrence in her bloodline.

Dany staggered back, her mind reeling. She had been pregnant with twins? Rhaego was gone, but there was still one left—still a child within her, alive. The fire that had been extinguished rekindled, burning fiercely in her heart.

"You took my son and my husband," Dany whispered, her voice trembling. "But you didn’t take everything."