My version of Game of Thrones season 8

Episode 7: Prince of the Seven Kingdoms Part 3 (FINAL)

SANSA

The recruitment of common folk went along well, there weren't many volunteering to fight which Sansa was thankful for and for the most part they had no family which sat with her conscience slightly better. To ease it more she made her way to pay a visit to Arya and Daenerys who have been training for the entirety of a day. She was able to find them with the sound of the wood clashing clicking together and Arya's 'hya's" and the occasional "ow" from Daenerys.

When she finally arrived, she was expecting to see Arya completely dominating over Daenerys but she was surprised to find that Daenerys was able to hold back against her. She watched as the two went back and forth, dodging and parrying. Even though Daenerys appeared to be a natural at swordplay she still couldn't land a hit on Arya. Arya hit her on the behind with her sword, they were light taps and nothing to worry about. Sansa's giggling gave her away and both looked at her.

"Care to join?" Arya called. Sansa waved her hand dismissively and made her way to Daenerys, staring at the slight visible swell of her belly.

"May I?" Sansa asked, motioning her hands towards her abdomen. Daenerys gave her a nod and Sansa placed her hands. She could feel the swell and felt excited at the prospect of a new Stark in the world. A boy according to Bran. "Have you thought of names yet?" Sansa questioned.

Daenerys shook her head. "I'm not sure if Jon wants to discuss names right now. With all the earth shattering news we've received in such a short amount of time it's difficult to talk about any of it," Daenerys explained.

Sansa could barely imagine the turmoil that Jon was experiencing. Finding out the woman he loves shares his blood and now discovering that she's pregnant with his child. Not only pregnant but that child might not even live to see the sun. It all sounded unbearable. "You two should talk about it. Don't talk about it like it's a curse. Talk about it like it's a gift, a gift you have to protect with everything you have," Sansa implored.

Daenerys' eyes twinkled at Sansa curiously and then she broke into a smile. "Thank you Lady Sansa for your kind words," Daenerys beamed.

"You and Jon we'll be wonderful parents, and your son will rule graciously over Westeros. I know it," Sansa assured. Daenerys closed her eyes and gave Sansa a tight smile and nodded.

Arya cleared her throat behind Sansa and she turned around as Daenerys looked over her shoulder. "If you don't mind you're sort of intruding on my lesson," Arya interrupted.

Sansa nodded and turned around to leave. "I'll leave you to it."

ARYA

Arya finally offered Daenerys some time to calm herself. Training her was difficult, she didn't want to overwork her and he couldn't hit her because she was pregnant. Which took all the fun out of training people. But even still she was enjoying training the Mother of Dragons.

She heard Daenerys huffed out a frustrated breath by the window as she stared intently at something happening outside on the ground. Arya joined her at the window and spotted her brother training himself. He had three Unsullied volunteers and was fighting all three of them at the same time. "How is this sword training supposed to be of any use if he can do all that and I can barely land a hit up here," Daenerys complained.

"We're not training you to become an infantry soldier, just enough for you to defend yourself if need be," Arya claimed. "Should we get back to it?"

Daenerys picked her sword back up and got into the stance Arya showed her. Daenerys makes the first move and isn't swinging the way she should be and Arya's able to stop her easily. She swings at her belly, just stopping short before she made contact. "Dead," she teased. Daenerys threw her sword to the ground in frustration and sat down on the nearby stairs.

Arya sighed and joined her by the stairs. "Swordplay isn't an easy thing to pick up right away, you need a lot more time before your gonna be as good as Jon," Arya assured.

"It's just that," Daenerys hesitated. "I'm going to be utterly useless during this fight because I'm going to be forced to stay behind while everyone else fights to protect me. I should be out there when the time comes, fighting alongside everyone on the back of Drogon."

Arya understood Daenerys' issues. She wouldn't expect her to want to stay behind while the rest of everyone else fights. "Your child is the Night King's goal, you need to be as far away from him as possible."

"I know I just... I just feel useless."

Arya got up and picked up both the swords. "Well get up and let's make you feel less useless."

Daenerys rose from her place on the stairs and Arya tossed her a sword. "Now that attack that I've been doing a lot so far. Instead of blocking it like you've been doing, you should spin away from it and strike me from behind." Arya got into her fighting stance and did the attack she'd been doing for the entirety for a length of the training session. She expected it to take a few attempts before she got it but Daenerys did it perfectly immediately; knocking Arya on her arse. Arya took a moment to realize that she was on the ground. "Well alright then, I guess that means I'll have to actually try now," Arya taunted.

Daenerys backed away and allowed her to get up. They were ready to resume training before Tyrion came into the room. "Your grace, we've just received word from Brandon Stark that the army of the dead has caught the Riverlands army."

Daenerys and Arya looked on in shock and Arya took the sword from Daenerys and put it away. "Well I think that's enough for today, get some rest your grace," with that Arya took off out the door.

DAENERYS

The sun set and the inky black of night has fully enveloped the sky. Daenerys cuddles in bed with Jon. They didn't really do anything more than that but it felt better nonetheless that he was there in contrast to her previous few nights. They usually just stay up talking until it's too much of a burden to continue attempting to keep their eyes open. Sometimes relying on the surprisingly loud snoring of Ghost as he slept by the fire.

"The Riverlands army got attacked by the army of the dead," Daenerys mumbles. Jon sighs and bumps his head back on the backboard. "And I know that your uncle was lord of the Riverlands."

Jon seems to tense up a little bit but settles back down. "I never really knew him very well."

They lay there some more before Daenerys spoke up once again. "I look forward to taking our son on dragon rides," she stated. Maybe if she just talked about their son as if nothing terrible was coming for him then it would be alright and he would live.

"Daenerys-"

"I'm sure Drogon will love him, Ghost as well. He's such a kind nurturing direwolf. And Missandei will-"

"Daenerys stop," Jon sobbed as he moved her to look into his eyes.

But Daenerys wouldn't accept it. Their child would live, their child would live, she would tell herself. "No Jon, I won't stop. Our son will survive and even if he doesn't," she struggled to say those last words. "If he doesn't then shouldn't we cherish the time we have with him?"

Jon closed his eyes and sighed. "What should we name him?"

Daenerys smiled at this. She had thought about names for weeks but nothing really functioned. She wanted to demand Jon's opinion but she figured he didn't want to discuss that. "Well since he'll be a Stark I believe it only be fair he have a Targaryen name."

"No," Jon said. "He should be a Targaryen. Your house needs to return to the world."

"Well then, a northern name?" Daenerys smiled.

Jon put his head back on the pillow and stared up at the ceiling, thinking to himself. "I only had one sibling who had a family. His son would have had his fourth name day by now," he raised his head to meet her eyes. "His name was Robb."

"So, should we honour him?" Daenerys suggested. "Name our little dragon-wolf after the brave young wolf?"

He moved his hands down to her belly and smiled. "First of his name, Prince of the Andals and the First Men and heir to the Seven Kingdoms." He paused before saying his name, he had refused to say name him for too long now but being able to say it out loud felt wonderful. "Prince Robb Targaryen."