"Jon, what are you standing there for? Your daughter is kicking up a storm," groans Daenerys as she reaches out him with an outstretched arm. "Come soothe her with that northern voice I love so much."

"A daughter?" Jon asks. "You sound very sure that we'll be having a princess," smiling as he comes up behind her to press his hands against her belly on either side, and rub in gentle, slow circles.

"I am," she replies, hands covering his, pressing them a little bit harder against her stomach until he feels two kicks in answer. He's learned to trust his wife's intuition, and simply hums in agreement.

"I think we should name her after my mother, and yours, but I'm unsure how to honor them both." Dany's eyes narrow slightly in thought.

Jon kisses her cheek in appreciation for wanting to include his mother, and murmurs, "What have you come up with so far?"

"Rhaeanna?" A pause. "Rhyella?" She shakes her head, then hesitantly says, "Lyella?"

He repeats the name against his wife's soft skin, and smiles. "It's beautiful, Dany. I think it will suit our daughter very well."

She lets out a contented sigh and draws his arms tighter around her, snuggling deeper into his embrace. "Lyella Targaryen," she whispers, her own smile widening.

Jon brings her hand up for a kiss, before linking their fingers together and resting them against her belly again.

"Stay with me a bit longer?" She asks, voice soft.