THE NIGHT QUEEN'S RETURN: FURY OF RAENAR TARGERYAN

2:DANERYS REBORN

The fog cleared as a dark, winged creature descended near the entrance of a cave. Drogon, the mighty dragon, landed with a mournful screech, carrying the lifeless body of his mother, Daenerys Targaryen, gently in his claws. His eyes, filled with grief, scanned the landscape as he lay her down near the mouth of the cave.

From within the shadows of the cave, a small, ancient figure emerged—one of the Children of the Forest, her frail form bearing the weight of countless centuries. Her green eyes flickered with understanding as she saw Drogon’s sorrow and the still body he carried. She approached cautiously, whispering in the old tongue to soothe the dragon's pain. She then gestured for Drogon to lay Daenerys on the cold stone slab inside the cave.

With a solemn nod, she took a sharp obsidian blade from her belt and plunged it into Daenerys’ chest. The body convulsed violently as though the earth itself shook. Moments later, her heart began to beat again, but it was cold—void of warmth, as if forged from stone itself. Daenerys’ eyes flew open, glowing like two radiant blue diamonds, cold and fierce.

The Child of the Forest looked into her eyes with reverence. "You are the first Night Queen we’ve had in centuries," she said, her voice echoing in the cave. "There must always be a Night King, or Queen, in the North to protect the Children of the Forest and to keep the realms of men in check."

Daenerys stood, silent and still, her once fiery spirit replaced with an icy calm. She touched her belly, her hand trembling slightly. A look of sadness washed over her face as she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the frozen surface beneath her feet. Her lips tightened as she gazed upon her changed form, now a queen of ice and death.

The Child of the Forest noticed her gesture and gasped softly. "Oh, gods... you are pregnant." Her voice trembled with awe. "Your child, like you, will be born again. A fusion of ice and fire. We must wait for a few months for the birth, but when it comes... the world will never be the same."

---

Bran watching all this in his vision started to narrate to his small council.

Bran took a deep breath. "Daenerys Targaryen has been reborn... as the Night Queen."

Tyrion nearly dropped his cup. "How... how is that even possible? A Night Queen?" His mind raced, trying to make sense of what Bran was saying.

Bronn scoffed. "Are you sure? You haven’t been taking any of that milk of the poppy again, have you? Maybe you’re seeing things."

Bran's eyes flashed with frustration. "Everything I’ve said is true," he snapped, his voice unusually harsh. "I saw her. I saw the Children of the Forest. She has risen."

The room buzzed with murmurs of disbelief and fear. Samwell Tarly, now a learned maester, spoke up cautiously. "If this is true, we must act. We need to send ravens to all our bannermen. Arya, too—she’s still sailing beyond the Narrow Sea. We’ll need her."

Tyrion nodded thoughtfully. "What about Jon? Have you seen him in your visions?"

Bran shook his head, his expression dark. "No... he’s beyond the Wall, but something is blocking me from seeing him clearly. There is a power... something strong... that clouds my vision."

Brienne’s face tightened with concern. "Do you think Jon is with her? With Daenerys? Trying to reclaim what was once his?"

Bran’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. "If Jon wanted the Iron Throne, he would have taken it years ago. His heart lies elsewhere."

Bronn stood up, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. "Well, whatever’s going on, we need to be ready. I’ll rally the armies, call our vassals, and send spies to the North. If we’re facing another invasion, we’ll meet them head-on and crush them."

Bran’s eyes darkened as he stared into the flames. "It won’t be that easy. Daenerys has changed. She’s not just a Targaryen anymore—she’s something far more dangerous. And her child... her child will be the fusion of ice and fire, something this world has never seen before."

The council exchanged uneasy glances. The fate of Westeros hung in the balance once again, and the lines between friend and foe were blurring.

---

The weight of Bran’s warning settled heavily over the room, as the council members realized that the peace they had fought so hard to achieve was once again on the brink of collapse. A new storm was brewing, one that might bring the end of everything they knew. The icy winds of the North were stirring, and soon, all of Westeros would feel their cold embrace.