The familiar blistering sun above the Dothraki Sea was high up in the sky. Hot wind was blowing, stirring the dry yellow grass, composing a soothing sound to Dany’s ears. She felt the heat dehydrating her, leaving her lips dry and cracked. Since Volantis, she has been riding along the river, which although not as clear as she would have wished, came as a blessing nonetheless. At night, she would diverge from it as she took her rest. Hungry wild animals came down with thirst during the night and she didn’t come back from the dead just to end up as prey.
Daenerys Targaryen was no stranger to the dangers of the Dothraki Sea after all. The first time she rode through here, she was only a thirteen year old girl riding with her new husband and his khalasar. Regardless of the time passed since she was last with him, Dany would often find herself thinking of him. Although they were riding the hard and long days away, for the first time in her life, Dany felt like she belonged somewhere, like she was amongst her people. He turned out to be the only man who never let her down, never betrayed her, the only one she could fully trust and wasn’t wrong to do so. She had hoped that after she is gone from this world, she would join him and their son in the nightlands. But all she found there was… nothing.
Thinking about Drogo or any other happy memory helped the days pass faster, but those memories were so few that she ran out by the third day of riding. She would often try to revisit them, only to end up flooded with painful memories instead. Memories witch brought that pain she felt standing on the walls of King’s Landing. A pain she feared. A pain so powerful, she was unable to control. At one point, whilst staring at the Red Keep, even if it was just for a moment, she could have sworn she felt physical pain in her heart. Up until the moment Drogon parted his claws from the wall... she did not feel much after that. It seemed as if her body moved on its own and she just sat back, watched and let it happen as thousands of people screamed in pain. She couldn’t stop it nor she wanted to. It didn’t feel wrong, it didn’t feel right, it just simply... didn’t feel. Watching them burn differed in no way from watching those happy children from her window, near the lemon tree, playing under the Braavosi sun. So what if they burned? She had already been burned from within as well. And yet, she was still there, wasn’t she?
She had lost so much. She had missed them all so. My bear, she thought, my old sweet bear, who loved me and betrayed me and then died for me. She never could love Ser Jorah the way he wanted but she did love him. Missandei… she had grown so fond of her beautiful handmaid. Often when she was with her, Dany wasn’t a Queen, but a young girl talking about boys with her best friend. Valar morghulis, she could almost hear her say or was it the wind blowing through the grass that surrounded her? Regardless, it brought a smile on her face. “Yes, all men must die. But we are not men.” she told the grass.
Rhaegar, Viserion… she named them for her brothers, they were all gone now. Her brothers and her children. Seeing Viserion’s ice cold, blue eyes tore her heart. He was supposed to be hers, her child, not fight against his brothers so ruthlessly, ripping each other apart. By the time she watched Rhaegar fall from the sky into the Narrow Sea, she felt so numb that she didn’t even have the strength to fall apart. Everything after the Long night seemed like some blurry dream she could not awaken from. Almost as if she wasn’t walking in her own body, physically there, just... existing, but not living. So when her second child fell, all she could feel was anger. No sadness, no tears, just anger so strong that she charged towards the Iron Fleet fearlessly, like she was daring the Gods themselves to take even more from her. To take her.
Suddenly, a dark large shadow swallowed her whole, a roar as loud as thunder filled the sky above, cutting off her thoughts. Drogon. He flew right above her, so close she could even hear the sound of his wings. Is he hunting me? Dany thought, but he flew past her, taking no notice of her. His mother’s eyes filled with tears and her lips parted into a smile. Oh how good it was to see him again, she missed him so. He grew, she thought. Or is it because she wasn’t used to looking at him from down here? Is this what others saw and felt when it was them casting the large shadow? He flapped his huge wings once, already disappearing in the distance.
When the priestess told Dany that Drogon was last seen flying above the Doltharki Sea, she knew exactly where he was spending most of his days. The hill that looked like a stony island in a sea of green, in a lair inside a shallow cave, near a stream. The same place he took her after that day in the fighting pits, just few years ago. It was his home then, it was his home now.
She just hoped to reach him before the Dothraki reach her. Last time she was here, she was lost, walking and following the river hoping it would lead her home. But before she could find out if it was so, the fearless riders with belts in their braids came screaming around her, surrounding her. If you were wondering amidst the Dothraki Sea, eventually, you would have been seen/captured by the screamers that carried its name. She knew this, but it was never even a question whether she would risk her life for Drogon. Besides, perhaps the Dothraki will recognize her and accept her back as their Khaleesi. Perhaps. At least this time she is riding instead of walking barefoot.
At last, the familiar hill appeared up front, motivating her to press her heels into the white horse that reminded Dany of her silver, and pick up the pace. Soon, I will fly again soon, she thought. For Dany, nothing compared to that feeling of soaring through the sky. She felt so free, so save, so powerful, all the problems that awaited her on the ground seemed so meaningless, so small from up there, so far away. Being alone up in the sky, and being alone down on the ground, were complete opposites. She could stay alone in the clouds a thousand years. And yet her favorite flight was the one she shared with Jon Snow, above the winter wonders of the North. “No” she said the words out loud closing her eyes and shook her head. You will not think of him.
The cave was as she remembered it, the peaceful gurgling of the water coming from the stream nearby, insects and small animals bravely attempting to get near the leftovers of Drogon’s prey and of course, Drogon. He was sleeping inside his lair between the burnt bones, her heart skipped a beat when she noticed that some of the bones resembled those of a human. Has he been feeding on people as well? When the priestess told her how he has been attacking villages and cities alike, she would not believe her. As she was riding away from Volantis though, when looking back, she could see the burned ruins on the northern part of the wall and the houses behind it. Was Drogon, without her to tame him, just a monster as everyone said? No, he is my child.
“Drogon” she spoke softly, her heart filling up with happiness at the sight of her child. When she came close to him, stepping into the cave, his whole body finally revealed itself. Her eyes widened. He did grow. He grew so much that he barely fit in his old lair, his head was now larger than her standing body, even his mother was left feeling uneasy by his size. Maybe it was true, dragons grow in the wild until the day they die. Resting his head over his left wing, he took no notice of her, continuing his sleep. Finally, she dared to reach her hand towards him, standing on the side of his head, feeling the intense heat that was radiating from his body. Her attempt was interrupted by the large pool of molten magma that opened, staring at her. He is awake. She took a few steps back slowly, anticipating his next move, as he lifted and brought his large head closer to her, sniffing her. A chilling growl came from deep within him revealing his sharp teeth and Dany faced what she had feared all along. He doesn’t recognize me. My own child doesn’t recognize me.
He opened his mouth and the flame came roaring out in a hot jet. She had no time to avoid it nor she tried. What was the point of trying, anyway? Instead, she turned to it, opened her arms to the fire, embraced it, let it swallow her whole and scour her clean. She could feel the flames crawling against her bare skin, licking her. Her blood and tears boiled and turned to steam, and yet there was no pain. She felt strong and new and clean and fierce. When the fire dimmed down, burned parts of what used to be a red dress given to her by the priestess, soared through the hot air. Drogon sniffed her again “It’s me, Drogon, your mother, remember me.” She commanded him but he pressed his feet against the ground, leaping out of the cave “No!” she yelled but he opened his large blood red wings and flew away.
I have to stay and keep trying, he will remember me...he has to, she told herself while stepping near the stream. The water felt so cold yet it turned into steam the moment it touched her scalding hot skin. When she cleaned the blackness and ash off, she walked back to her horse and wrapped herself in a red cloak, took out a dagger that had once been in her heart and pierced the material, securing it. She pulled a part of the cloak over her head protecting herself from the sun. And that’s when she heard the screams.
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