"According to the customs of my hometown, only the father can name the child," said Falia, snuggling up against Viserys' shoulder.
If they followed the rules they'd set for themselves with Dany, then the names of these two children should be hers. But since they were girls, that shouldn't be a problem.
"Lily, Millie, um..."
Viserys looked at the sleeping twins and thought, 'Then Lily will be called Hali Targaryen, and Millie will be Hermine Targaryen.'
He leaned over to Falia's ear and whispered, "And the next one will be called Ron or Ronny."
"Huh? They can be Targaryens too?" Falia asked, a little surprised.
"Of course my daughters will be Princesses. What's so strange about that?"
"Aren't they bastards?!"
"They won't be once we get back to Westeros and you've officially become my concubine."
Falia felt faint with happiness at Viserys' words. 'I feel as if I'm about to collapse. It's as if the ground beneath my feet is about to float away.'
No! It was actually floating away—it was an earthquake!
Viserys was the first to react. He put an arm around Falia, while with the other he picked up Hermine and Hali, and ran outside. Once they reached the courtyard, they could hear the trees rustling all around them. Falia and the two children still seemed to be in shock. Viserys reassured them, and before their astonished eyes, a spiral staircase of orange flames appeared out of thin air.
He climbed the fiery staircase, and the surrounding area gradually came into view. The houses around them were still standing, with no visible damage—even the servants' quarters were intact. Some people who had run out of their homes looked around in panic, staring in amazement at Viserys and his blazing ladder.
Viserys raised the ladder another twenty feet, trying to see farther.
"Mother, Father..." Hali said worriedly.
Looking toward the horizon, Viserys saw that the harbor to the west was churning with restless waves. Although he couldn't hear the sound, he could sense the chaos over there. The west... He realized the earthquake's epicenter seemed to be coming from the northwest—from Westeros, or more precisely, from The North.
If the quake was clearly felt in Braavos, then Westeros... Oh no! Westeros!
...
In King's Landing, at the Red Keep, Dany was reviewing official documents when she noticed ripples in the glass of water beside her. She realized this must be an earthquake.
The maids around her were still calm, but when they noticed the tremor, they rushed over and threw themselves at her.
Dany waved them away and said, "Go! Go together!"
She got up to run outside, but as soon as she stood, she saw a small figure with short little legs scurrying toward her.
"Mother! Run, the ground is moving! The ground is moving!" Willem cried, instinctively sensing the danger and wanting to protect his mother.
Pill quickly lifted him by the nape of his neck and hurried outside.
When the group arrived in the courtyard outside Maegor's Holdfast, the earthquake slowly subsided. At that moment, the Little Rose also emerged, clutching her son tightly. Her hair accessories were slightly askew from running. Fortunately, the encouragement from Viserys—and the exercise she'd maintained with Shinelli and Sansa—had kept her fit, and her complexion soon returned to normal.
"Are you and the child okay?" Dany asked.
"We're fine, except Duncan is a little scared," Little Rose replied, soothing her crying baby in her arms.
Dany went over to Duncan, running her hand through his light brown hair, which helped to ease her own worries. She looked around and saw that the Red Keep hadn't been damaged. Maegor had been very careful when he built it. Above them, the five dragons still in King's Landing sensed the unease and soared into the sky, hovering protectively over the crowd.
"Your Grace! Your Grace! Lady, are you all right?" Connington and Sam ran over, concern written on their faces.
"We are all fine," Pill answered.
"The earthquake seemed to come from the north, we—" Sam began, but he was interrupted as a serving girl came rushing over.
"Your Grace, Lady Sansa is about to give birth!" she announced, breathless.
Sansa had been close to her due date, and the quake seemed to have triggered labor. But Dany couldn't afford to linger, so she quickly ordered, "Ser Connington, Ser Sam, I'm going to check the damage around King's Landing. Get your men organized!"
"Yes, my queen!" they replied in unison.
At that moment, the silver dragon in the sky landed beside her. Dany climbed onto its back and, with the eyes of everyone in the courtyard following her, left the Red Keep. As she circled over King's Landing, she could see that less than a fifth of the buildings had collapsed, with only minor damage to most. This meant that casualties and losses should be manageable. The resilience of the city was a result of the "anti-urbanization" policies she and Viserys had previously enforced.
She decided to make another round over the city. After a disaster, the most important thing was to reassure the people.
...
In the North, at Winterfell, the snowfall was far thicker than in King's Landing, blanketing the land north of The Neck in a vast "snowfield." Winterfell, the dark stone fortress, stood starkly in the middle of it.
In this earthquake, the North had been hit much harder than the South. Winterfell's northern wall now had several deep cracks.
"Maester Luwin, was that an earthquake?" Robb Stark asked, rushing out of his chambers. In his early twenties, Robb had never experienced an earthquake before and had only read about them.
"Yes, it was an earthquake," Maester Luwin confirmed, gazing out over the landscape with Robb from the Topless Tower.
Winterfell's walls had sustained heavy damage, and the villages and towns nearby had likely fared even worse. They would need to start rescue efforts immediately.
Then Robb thought of something troubling. "Could there be trouble on the other side of the Wall?"
He and Luwin exchanged a grave look, neither wanting to voice the fear they shared.
...
At the Wall.
The earthquake had long since ceased, yet a crack had appeared in the Wall itself—a dark fissure that snaked down the massive ice structure behind Castle Black, like a jagged bolt of black lightning through the ancient wonder.
Ned Stark, Lord Commander of the Night's Watch, stood with his men, contemplating the terrifying sight before him. The Wall was a vital defense in their 300-mile line against the horrors beyond. If they lost the Wall, they dared not think of what they might face.
Just then, a Night's Watch recruit ran up, breathless. "My lord, there are many towers appearing in the north—gray ones!"
"Towers?" Ned's brows furrowed as he motioned for his men to follow him. Once atop the Wall, he peered through his binoculars. In the far distance, he saw a line of towers, evenly spaced and rising up from the frozen ground like fangs. Grayish white, they jutted into the sky in a menacing line.
He made a quick decision. "Gather a group. We'll investigate."
With their abundance of manpower and supplies, the Night's Watch had set up several observation posts beyond the Wall. Now, they would station scouts near these ominous 'fang towers,' preparing for whatever lay ahead.