Daenerys, her belly swollen, didn’t keep solely to the den, despite common sense. The heat of summer would have made Daenerys’ condition unbearable for any other woman - but she was the blood of the dragon. She was a Targaryen, a Dracarae. And she was bearing her mate’s children, her mate being Ghost of House Stark.
Daenerys desperately hoped Ghost’s sister, Sansa, was okay. She had heard nothing of the girl after she had seen Sansa fleeing Drekistone. She knew it would take a lot off Ghost’s shoulders if he knew his sister was alive and well.
The summer heat washed over Daenerys as she moved from the den, emerging into a warm sun patch. She nearly didn’t register the strange and unfamiliar pains in her stomach. Moving back into the den, she howled for Ghost.

fade out, fade in

The exhausted dragoness canted her head to look at the three boys, newly born. Daenerys’ sons were all clearly Dracarae, robust and beautiful. The largest, the black one, seemed the strongest of them. She smiled up at Ghost if he was there, a weary look covering her face. “I think we should name two after my brothers - the cream one can be Viserion, and the green Rhaegal.” She gazed down at her children. “What do you think for the black boy?”

“So light me up, light me up, light me up, go ahead light me up!”