[Chapter Size: 3200 Words.]

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Third Person POV

Arctic, 298 AC.

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The sound of babies echoed through the room, removing another, while the last woman made an effort to push the child out.

Jon was with her, placing his hand over Rhaenys’ belly, to heal her parts a little bruised from the last baby coming out, and now Jon turned his attention to Daenerys.

His hands glowed above her belly, making an effort to bring the baby out. For some reason, Daenerys and Rhaenys had chosen to give birth at the same time, showing that on the day they conceived Jon’s seed, it was during their wedding night after getting married.

Ygritte was in the room with her child in her arms, who was also crying, she had given birth two days ago.

Jon had known they were coming a week ago, and quickly put them all on bed rest with handmaidens staying with them day and night, even with Jon sleeping in the same room at times—without relations, of course.

“AHH!” Daenerys was nervous, you could tell by the sweat dripping from her face, she strained as the baby began to come.

“Stay calm, he’s coming out…” Jon said, letting go of Rhaenys’ hand and touching Daenerys’ forehead, who nodded at him, before Jon began squeezing her hand tightly to help her focus.

His hand kept glowing on her belly while the healer women and even the present Children of the Forest guided her, helping the baby come out more and more.

“My daughter! Give her to me!” Rhaenys quickly asked as they were cleaning the blood-covered girl.

“Here she is, my queen…” The women handed the baby over, and Rhaenys took her, pulling her close and kissing her, seeing her second child, a girl with platinum hair and violet eyes.

“She looks so much like you…” Jon commented, looking at the girl and smiling as he saw her.

“Yes… shall we name her Visenya, then?” she asked, smiling.

“Yes, it’s a great name.” Jon said as he studied the girl, who had his nose, though the rest of her face was her mother’s.

Jon turned back to Daenerys, who was still struggling to deliver the last baby.

“He’s almost out, Queen Daenerys.” the woman said, helping her between her legs.

Then the crying began to fill the room, with a third baby.

“I’m going now, Laena is a bit scared right now.” Ygritte said, leaving the room, as the babies had started being born and her newborn daughter was quite agitated by her half-siblings’ screams.

She left the room, leaving Seryna behind, who was also standing in a corner, watching to make sure everything was going well. She was heavily pregnant and would have her baby in four or five moons.

Ygritte left and found four children in another room near the one used for the births, where she saw her two children, Lyanna and Brandon, along with Jaehaerys and Loki, taking care of the siblings, or helping Hiyori who was with them.

“Aegon.” In the birthing room, Daenerys murmured, looking at the Targaryen boy coming to her, as Jon finished healing her.

“He’s so beautiful… he looks so much like you, Jon…” she murmured as she saw his face, while he opened his violet eyes to her, looking at her curiously.

“Yes…” Jon came closer to Daenerys and kissed her forehead, still a bit sweaty, then went to Aegon, kissing him. His gaze then turned to Rhaenys on the other bed, as he checked that she was also alright and gave some attention to Visenya.

Jon was now officially the king with seven princes, as two girls and one boy were born in these last few days. He certainly couldn’t be any less happy about it, as he watched Rhaenys and Daenerys checking the babies.

“Let’s move them to another bed and throw these out.” Jon gave the order as the Children of the Forest finished checking the babies and assessing their condition.

The mothers were moved to the beds already prepared in the room and changed clothes right there to stay clean, while the babies were wrapped in blue cloths with the white symbol of Arctic on them.

“I’ll call the others.” Jon said, leaving the room and heading to the rest of his family while Seryna stayed behind to care for them, chatting with the mothers now that the babies were calm in their arms.

“Jon?” Hiyori saw him as soon as he entered.

“They were born. Let’s go.” Jon said, knowing his children wanted to see their new siblings.

“Let’s go!” Lyanna exclaimed excitedly.

“Just don’t run like that, we’ll all go together, Lyanna.” Jon said, stopping her from running off.

“Alright, daddy.” She murmured before raising her arms to him. “Then carry me.” she asked.

“Is that an order, Princess of Arctic?” Jon asked with a closed-lip smile.

“Yes, daddy! Hahaha.” She started laughing, mouth open, with a few teeth still coming in.

Jon picked her up and brought her along, while Ygritte and Hiyori brought the rest of the children.

They entered while Jaehaerys tried to catch up to Loki heading to the bed, and Jon set Lyanna down as well. She quickly ran off with her siblings—the only one who couldn’t run properly was Brandon, being carried by Hiyori.

“He’s so tiny!” Lyanna exclaimed beside Aegon in Daenerys’ arms.

“Of course he is, sister, you were like this too.” Loki replied while looking at Visenya.

“You too, dummy.” Lyanna grumbled.

“Watch your mouth, Lyanna. Don’t speak to your brother like that.” Ygritte immediately spoke louder to her daughter, not liking her tone.

“No arguing here, your siblings just arrived. Let them and their mothers rest. Besides, Lyanna… Loki only spoke the truth, he wasn’t being mean. Apologize to him.” Jon said.

“Sorry…” Lyanna murmured, head down.

“Hug each other now.” Seryna approached Jon, as both children stepped closer and kissed each other on the cheek.

“If they’re already like this now… imagine when they grow older and when the others are also at the age to give us headaches. Can you imagine that, Jon?” Seryna said as the children spread out again to see the babies.

“For even you—the calmest of us—to bring up that concern, you know very well our kids will cause trouble.” Jon replied as the two beds were surrounded by the family.

A knock at the door made Jon look toward it. “Yes?” he asked.

“My king, the wolves are agitated.” Someone opened the door slightly to deliver the words.

“Bring the pups in. They’re already forming bonds with the babies.” Jon said, because although there were no more dragon eggs ready to hatch at the moment, every baby born in Arctic was still greeted by a litter and a direwolf bringing a pup to the castle when the child was about to be born.

They were kept apart and cared for until Jon’s children were born, and then brought to them, staying by their side from then on as loyal companions, guardians, and protectors.

Once the baby wolves were brought to the door, Jon took them and brought them to the bed. Though they had also been born only recently, they tried to reach the girls and ended up sleeping beneath them.

Jon spent some time there with the family, until the women caring for the queens returned to guide the mothers—experienced women in childbirth, trained with the medical knowledge Jon had provided them in the early years of Arctic. They had since taught hundreds of other midwives who were now helping deliver children all over Arctic, which was no small feat, as the mortality rate had dropped significantly.

The Free Folk, now known as Arcticans, were experiencing a baby boom, with the number of newborns even surpassing the adult population. Not that this was a bad thing—Arctic would have a much larger generation than the first and could fill many more places in the city. After all, it was nowhere near half its building capacity, capable of housing up to ten million people if the entire city space within the kingdom’s walls was utilized.

In any case, Jon did not leave the castle for the next week, wanting to take a short break, despite receiving important visitors constantly and having papers to sign regarding changes in laws and approvals for large-scale construction in the city.

He also spent time with his uncle, who had eventually grown accustomed to the kingdom, though initially quite startled by the fact that Jon had nearly thirty living dragons—almost double the number House Targaryen had at its peak.

Jon could understand. Imagine believing dragons to be extinct, only to find a rising kingdom controlling the world’s largest trade network and revolutionizing warfare with giants in its ranks—suddenly possessing so many dragons.

Jon knew this would spark fear among his enemies, but also greed. And he didn’t want to deal with that yet, not after seeing so many people already doing everything they could to gain possession of the dragons. He wanted to delay that confrontation, and aimed to make the world, as far as he could control it, believe that Arctic was powerful—but not so powerful that they couldn’t fathom its limits.

He asked Benjen to keep that information hidden, as it would benefit both Arctic and the South—though the latter would be in a much worse position if it got out.

Benjen also visited his two surviving companions, along with southern soldiers and nobles working in the quarry.

He came across Lord Westerling, who was clearly demanding to be removed with the Night’s Watch once he heard they would be transferred out of Arctic.

Obviously, it was a pointless request. Arctic would keep them imprisoned until Jon believed there was no longer a need to hide its secrets—since they had seen Eragon in action.

Jon had planned not to send them to the Night’s Watch just yet, so he would keep his uncle Benjen in Arctic for at least a few moons.

Meanwhile, the second group coming from the South arrived a few days after the first, and Craster’s women—his daughters and granddaughters of all ages—were placed in housing to begin adapting to their new home, with Jon assigning tutors for the task.

Jon couldn’t help but enjoy his family more than at any other time in his life, the only one missing being Arya. But then, that week finally ended, and Jon returned to his duties as king.

“Any news of Brynden? He should’ve returned by now.” Jon asked his men as they headed toward the senate.

“Some ships that were ahead of his also arrived late—two days ago. He’s probably close, my king.” they said.

“Alright. Let’s go, uncle.” Jon said, dismounting and entering the senate while Benjen followed behind, wondering what Jon intended to do with him there, since he had summoned him that morning saying he wanted to show him something.

They descended the stairs as Benjen found himself facing a large room holding a single being in captivity—after passing more than twenty guards keeping the door secure.

“What is that?!” Benjen felt a chill as the creature locked eyes with him—eyes blue as death.

“That is the White Walker we keep chained with valyrian steel… The only one we managed to capture and still hold here.” Jon said as he approached casually, unlike the cautious Benjen, who seemed to fear the creature despite its restraints.

“I always believed you when you said they existed, but this… it’s…” He murmured, unable to find the perfect word to describe exactly what he felt toward that thing.

“They are death itself… trying to destroy the world… but they failed.” Jon said as the White Walker stared at him with cold eyes.

“…” Benjen swallowed hard.

“They understand what I’m saying, but they rarely speak. He only spoke to me once, said we were all going to die—can you believe this guy?” Jon mocked as he pointed at the White Walker and looked back at his uncle.

“Jon…” Benjen was frightened and stunned by his nephew joking around with such a thing, while the White Walker just stared at Jon silently.

“I just wonder if he’s one of that bastard Craster’s sons…” Jon casually commented, shrugging.

“Now let’s keep going, let’s go see the wights, the creations they used for their army.” Jon continued walking with his uncle through the underground halls of the senate, showing him what they had stored from the White Walkers.

Back at the castle, Jon showed the ice swords and spears, while Benjen bombarded him with questions about it all—right before he was visited by his ministers, who had come to congratulate him on the new princes of the realm and the celebration held, as well as for important meetings concerning the kingdom. Today was no different, as he dined with them to discuss further matters of Arctic.

As the days passed, a group of ships finally entered the channel, with the warg scouts already aware of it—Brynden had finally arrived in the kingdom.

Brynden was finally back, after two and a half moons sailing across the seas. During the voyage, they faced several storms that caused delays, until they finally reached their homeland.

The ships coming from Slaver’s Bay continued advancing through the channel, passing by the king’s statue, officially entering Arctic and sailing past the kingdom’s agricultural district.

The capital was just ahead, and soon they reached the harbor, where a new batch of ships was already being prepared to set sail.

They had encountered some of their ships at sea, even being escorted, since trade was stronger than ever.

The ice, which Jon had launched as a business, had become a worldwide success, along with several other products. It was known that even in Essos, people from Westeros would buy sealed boxes of ice to take to their lords, whether for resale to other houses or for personal use.

It wasn’t a frequent trade by Essosi merchants, as Jon charged for any lost boxes—tracking exactly how many were placed in each warehouse—since the cost of replacing magical boxes was high on those merchants’ pockets, with their contracts being terminated if they didn’t pay.

Jon, along with the other trade administrators, wasn’t truly worried about those boxes being in other people’s hands, because, as the king had planned from the beginning, the boxes became useless after a certain time—they could no longer hold any temperature once the magical energy faded.

In any case, the ship docked at one section of the harbor, where some guards were already coming to receive him.

It wasn’t a grand reception like the king received when returning from travels, but Brynden certainly couldn’t complain—especially when he saw the king himself approaching the harbor to welcome him.

He disembarked a moment later, finding Jon himself, who had been in the king’s forge, working with Valyrian steel when he heard of Brynden’s arrival and decided to come see him.

As he looked at him, Brynden couldn’t help but press his lips together, remembering what he had heard from Shiera Seastar, his former bed companion. Though she had used him—and even slept with other men just to provoke his jealousy—he couldn’t deny she had driven him mad back when he was Hand of the King, and during the war against his half-brother, Daemon Blackfyre.

But after that, he began to feel disgusted by her, and they went their separate ways. Shiera Seastar had somehow managed to prolong her life through the magic of the Red God. She was a priestess, and had helped Jon on his journey to southern Essos, all the way to Yi Ti. One could even say that the marriage between Jon and Princess Hiyori was entirely her doing—she forged that bond.

But she had said things—difficult things to accept. Things about the future. About how they wouldn’t truly defeat the White Walkers now, and that they would return. And that the sword that would destroy evil once and for all would require something… something that would certainly hurt Jon deeply, if he had to do it.

Then, she proposed something else: that she and Brynden both sacrifice themselves together to bring the sword into being. It was a strange request, yet still enough to make Brynden wonder if what she had said was true.

In any case, there was nothing more to be done now. He would be ready to face this war and end the White Walkers once and for all.

That battle was closer than ever.

“My king!” He stepped in front of Jon quickly and went to greet him, lowering his head in respect.

“I see Arctic’s best spy has returned. Brynden, we need you now more than ever.” Jon said, shaking his hand.

“Yes, I’m here to serve Arctic and humanity—more than ever before.” he replied.

“That’s great. I’ll ask the other ministers to catch you up on everything that’s going on. Anyway, how are things in Slaver’s Bay… or can we even still call it that?” Jon asked.

“The city is under reconstruction, my king. Everything is going perfectly according to plan, and the Red Priests have remained true to their word in helping us. The Arcticans have already begun implementing a new system without any difficulty or resistance.” he said.

“Excellent. We’ll talk more about that later. Welcome home. If you want to rest, feel free to do so and reach out to any minister. Or, if you prefer, we can schedule a meeting to hear more about the state of Slaver’s Bay and discuss what to do with the region.”

“I’ll catch up with Aemon as soon as possible, my king. Then we can have a better conversation.” he said, taking his leave.

Brynden returned to his home, which remained the sacred grove beneath the roots of the great tree of Arctic. He had never thought of leaving it.

Jon, meanwhile, went back to producing more Valyrian steel, with Eragon waiting for him at the forge.

Days passed, and Brynden began relaying information. He quickly reestablished his network of spies across the North like no one else could, staying alert to everything.

As powerful as Jon was in his skinchanging abilities, his focus now had to be on other matters—administering the entire kingdom and preparing the army, alongside Ducken, developing new formations and weapons with the dwarves.

The population, in turn, was beginning to grow slightly uneasy.

At the same time, a massive group of people finally arrived from the North.

Mance stood at the head of the Free Folk tribes, gazing toward the kingdom. He couldn’t see much from where they stood—not being at a high vantage point—but even from there, they could make out the giant tree, along with vast fields filled with fruit-bearing trees and all types of crops.

“So this is Arctic?” Val said beside him, wanting to see the kingdom for the first time, almost unable to believe what she was seeing. Even with all they’d heard about the place, they couldn’t believe such a thing truly existed there before them, beyond those walls rising over twenty meters high.

“What kind of place is this that was built north of the Wall? How is this possible?” Mance murmured…

————-Nexts Chapters —————-

Chapter 262 – Events in Arctic.

Chapter 272 – The Journey and Titles of the Arctican King up to This Moment.

Chapter 282 – The Winterfell Banquet 03.

Chapter 291 – Eragon vs Cannibal 02.

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