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Rhaenyra cursed and snarled at Laenor who looked like he was about faint as he stared down at the midwife who was helping her deliver the first of the twins. The firsts head was out and she was now pulling the babe from within to make way for the second.
His attention was caught when he saw movement in the fire. In awe, even as his hand was crushed, he watched a tiny hatchling crawl forth from the flames.
The green hatchling, Vhagars, Laenor assumed, toddled towards the midwife before screeching and scrambling up the basin to get to the babe. The midwife shrieked, getting everyones attention but a wail from Rhaenyra had their attention turning back to her.
It took at least two more hours for the second babe to be born and he was closely followed by the second hatchling climbing from the fire. The second, silver, hatchling climbed onto the bed and toddled towards where the second babe was being held by Laenor.
The green hatchling screeched at the midwives as he followed after the first babe who had been cleaned. It scrambled up the bed and over Rhaenyra to watch over him.
"So my dear Wife, what shall we name them? Our babes?"
"Jacaerys, after King Jaehaeris. And Lucerys after Lucerys Velaryon the Ship Master." Laenor couldn't help but be amused by how his wife had already picked out Verlaryon names.
Reaching out, Laenor ran his fingers over the chubby cheek of Jacaerys, "The heir to Driftmark. My heir."
He switched his attention to little Lucerys in his arms, "The heir to Crackclaw Point."
Rhaenyra smiled, but her attention was on the green dragon as she ran a gentle finger down the little ones back. Chirping the dragon did its best to clamber up her shoulder to get a better vantage point.
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Eventually the two were old enough to name their dragons.
Jacaerys chose the name Vermax, after the God of boundaries, travel, communication, trade, language, and writing. He had liked the stories and legends as a child and had decided the name was perfect.
Lucerys decided on the name Arrax, after the Ruler of the Gods, Arrax, who was also the God of law, order, justice, governance, and strength. He had always seen the world in black and white and sought to see justice for slights.
The two dragons grew up chasing after their riders throughout the castle, until they grew to large and had to find caves to nest in.
Rhaenyra cursed Rickon for putting her through this again but the man simply held her hand and murmured reassurances. Laenor nor Daemon seemed able to handle the birthing room and neither Laena nor Rhaenys would make it in time. She screamed as another of pain hit her just in time for the castle to shake beneath the weight of a dragon.
Her eyes snapped open as Rickon cursed, reaching for the sword that was normally at his hip but had been forced to leave outside. The guards shouted at the door as the midwives panicked.
Rhaenyra's eyes drifted towards the window where a large yellow eye stared back, watching her. She screamed as another wave hit her and the oldest midwife rushed towards her to support her as she panicked.
It took another three hours for her next son to be born, with the dragon outside watching her the entire time.
When he was finally placed back in her arms, no longer bloodied, the dragon outside rumbled focus completely on the newly named Cregan Stark, Heir to Winterfell. It was then that Rhaenyra knew what she had to do.
Using her strength, she climbed out of the birthing bed, with Rickon supporting her while the Midwives fretted over her. He helped get her outside, with a retinue of knights and midwives at their back though they all froze when they found Vermithor perched on the castle, watching them wuth those yellow eyes.
Slowly, Rhaenyra approached him as he lowered his massive head to the walkway. His eye though was on the babe in her eyes as a low croon came from his throat.
Cregan gurgled, delighted as his tiny hands waved towards the huge, spiky dragon. Vermithor slowly leaned forward until the babe could slap a chubby hand against his nose, earning a squeal of genuine excitement from Cregan.
Her heart warmed even as her entire body ached from the pains of labors. Her son had claimed the Bronze Fury, dragon of King Jaehaeris himself.
Rhaenyra threw back her head with a fearful scream, clutching Rhaenys and Laena's hands like lifelines. The midwife in front of her urged her to push, which she did, whilst throwing out curses at her husbands though only Rickon was present.
The Northman hovered by her shoulders, prasiding her and taking her words without worry. He might not truly understand the pain of birth but his father had talked of how his own mother had cursed at him, and then had a second child.
"The babe is almost here, Princess. One more push."
"One more Rhaenyra," Rhaenys said, squeezing her hand. "Just one more. You can do it."
Screaming the vabe was finally pushed out but there was no cry and Rhaenyra felt her heart break, devestation filling her. Then a tiny wail cut the ait and she couldn't help the sob of relief.
"A boy, Princess, Lord Stark."
Rhaenyra went to reach for her baby only to feel another wave of pain that made her scream.
"The afterbirth," Another midwife said, pushing the other away. She leaned down only to freeze in shock before straightening. "Princess, you need to push. Now."
Rhaenyra screamed, louder than before, but did as she said. Across the room the babe wailed louder, as if he was afraid for her. With a final push, the midwife pulled a second babe from her. "Another boy, Princess, my Lord. Congratulations."
"Another?" Rhaenyra asked, staring at the bloodied babe in the womans arms. "Twins? How did-? How did the Maester not catch this?"
"Twins are difficult to catch, my Princess. But now we know how you carry twins and we can prepare next time."
Rhaenyra nodded slowly, but Laena was practically bouncing in place. "Oh, Cousin, twins! How wonderful! What shall you name them?"
Rickon and Rhaenys brought the cleaned babes to her allowing her to hold the oldest, who was quick to find her tit and latch on. The second was supported by Rhaenys and feasted as well.
"The oldest will be my heir. Baelon Targaryen, Heir to Dragonstone. The second will be Daemons heir. Aemon Targaryen, Heir to the Embar Glass Isles."
"Strong names," Rhaenys murmured, eyes softening.
"Thank you, Good-mother."
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Rhaenyra and her husbands all watched with bated breath as Baelon and Aemons eggs wiggled and cracked. Baelon suddenly cooed, reaching for his egg just as a large crack split it down the middle. It fell open revealing a deformed black, red, and gold dragon who lifted his head up and revealed green eyes watching them curiously. Baelon clapped in delight reaching for his hatchling who scrambled up the crib and used Rhaenyra's dress to get to him.
Aemon made the sane sound Baelon did and his own egg opened revealing a gold and red she-dragon who looked like a mirror image of Syrax when she was a hatchling. The hatchling sung her song and climbed up the crib before launching herself into Daemons arms to reach Aemon.
They all shared looks of awe. Syrax had laid the eggs almost as soon as Rhaenyra had announced her own pregnancy, and allowing her to take both eggs.
In the years following the hatchlings were eventually named Morghul, after the Valyrian word for death, and Shrykos for the goddess of roads.