It felt worse than a knife through the heart, that sharp breath she took burned through her lungs with pain she has never felt before. If anyone knew how a knife through the heart felt, it was her. Pain? How could she feel pain? Dead. She is supposed to be dead. She opened her eyes and took another sharp painful breath, her body shaking, feeling lost and confused. There was no one around, the room was freezing cold, biting into her skin. Huge ruby red diamonds were laid all around her naked lifeless-looking body. What is happening? She couldn’t calm her breath and as she looked down and saw the wound on her chest, her breathing only got worse. She, then, began to remember, millions of memories popping in her head all at once, her heart began racing and the pain in her chest became unbearable. “He killed me…” She blurted that thought out loud. “He killed me… he killed… he killed me....”. Her voice echoed in the marble dark room, louder each time. The heavy wooden door opened and two young priestesses came running in, they couldn’t have been older than fifteen. Each of them stood on the opposite sides of the marbled pedestal she was laying on and helped her sit up. An older, yet beautiful woman came lurking out of the shadow of the door. She was wearing a red dress matching the colors of her hair and eyes. “Welcome back, Daenerys Targaryen” her deep frightening voice echoing from the marble. It was only then that Dany gazed upon her and whispered one last time, her voice filled with pain “He killed me…”
The two younger priestesses were also in red, albeit, more revealing dresses. The parts covering their breasts were connected only by a thin stripe that formed an “X” above their navel. Quietly, they lit up the braziers in the room, raising the temperature. Daenerys followed them with her eyes as they moved across the room. Unable to adjust to the light of the fire, her eyes were tearing up… or was she crying? No. It must be the fire, the darkness was her friend for so long. How long? She had so many questions, so many thoughts, she didn’t know where to start. “Why...?” was the only thing she managed to get out at first. Coughing, she gave it another shot. “Why did you bring me back? I shouldn’t be back, I should be dead, this is wrong, everything was finally over, I was so tired of it all… Why? Why?!” she demanded mumbling. The second she saw the red priestesses one thing became clear, this wasn’t a dream. It was real. Jon Snow was resurrected after all, why not her?
The red woman remained calm, sauntered closer to Dany and took her hands in hers. “We need you, mother of dragons. No one can tame your child, but you. He has been burning cities and villages since the day you left this world. He needs you just as much as we do.” Drogon. Her eyes widened suddenly, gaining strength to stand up, or so she thought. Her legs gave out and would have stumbled on the floor had the two young priestesses not have caught her. “Where… where is he?” They were wrapping her in red clothes as she pressed her fingers over her forehead feeling dizzy and disoriented. “You must rest to regain your strength, you will find him when it’s time”.
The temperature in the room had finally risen enough to ease Dany’s shivers. She leaned against the two young strangers who helped her sit back. “Who are you? Where am I?” - “Volantis, The Great Red Temple, your Grace. I believe you have met one of us before. I am called Kinvara.” said the older priestess.
Your Grace. Dany shook her head. “No, I am not a Queen anymore, nor I wish to be, use my name to address me.” She placed her feet back up on the marble that unlike before, felt warm against her bare feet.
“No!” Sharply said the red-eyed woman in front of her. “You must rule, this world may be at peace now but this boy King can’t and won’t hold it much longer. War is coming… everywhere. It’s in the flames and you have an essential part to play.”
“I played, I tried, I failed… I did what I thought was right and I got murdered for it. I am afraid I am not your promised princess and I have seen your prophecies proven false enough, not to believe in them.” Something in her voice sent shivers down Kinvara’s back and she knew this conversation was over… for now.
The light of the fire was reflecting from the red ruby diamonds around her, captivating Dany’s gaze. She cupped one in her hands and stared at it as if trying to draw power from it. “They kept your body intact for a few weeks. We already made several attempts to bring you back. Almost lost hope, when the Lord of Light finally brought you back to us.”
“For weeks?” To her, it only seemed like yesterday when her world ceased to exist and darkness swallowed her. “Who is this boy King you speak of? Is Jon Snow not the King?” She didn’t even care enough to wait for the answer, saying his name felt like a knife was being thrust through her heart. Again. “He killed me… I trusted him, begged him, told him we can do it together, loved him… and he killed me.” Suddenly, she felt as if her whole strength had left her. She laid back down, put her hand on her belly for a few short moments then moved it up, her fingertips tracing the scar that represented her third and final betrayal. The betrayal of love. At least according to yet another prophecy, although at this point, Daenerys Targaryen felt like she had been betrayed a lot more than three times. Exhaustion took over and she closed her eyes. Opened them briefly again when the door closed behind the priestesses and shut them down all through the night.
That night she dreamt she was standing barefoot on what appeared to be ashes, it felt like she was stepping over snow. Warm snow. Her clothes were half burned, her face covered with black smears, her hair all tangled up and messy. Dark thick fog surrounded her, consumed her, she couldn’t see much ahead so she decided to walk forward.
Her feet were sinking into the soft ashes, leaving footprints behind. The outlines of the first houses showed up on both sides, she was walking through what appears to have once been a street. As she kept on, a burning smell surrounded her, some of the houses were still on fire whilst the rest had already burned down. She looked up to see the sky but the fog was too thick, painting the world in grey, only the houses black. It was when she turned her gaze down onto the street that she saw it. A pile of ashes in the shape of two people hugging each other, laying on the ground. She hurried to them and tears filled her eyes when she recognized the figure of a mother trying to protect her little daughter, wrapped all around her as if her arms are going to save her from whatever was coming towards them. It didn’t.
Dany kneeled and reached her hand towards them but the wind blew and the two figures dispersed into the air like ash. Few feet away, a similar figure of a child clutching onto his toy appeared. She hurried towards him, leaned in, reached her hand but it was, again, too late, the wind claimed him too. Every time a figure showed up Dany tried to reach it and every time she failed. Breathlessly, she ran through the streets not giving up. At last, she threw herself towards a figure she couldn’t even recognize and finally managed to grab a hold of it. It seemed like a person covered with…? what? She couldn’t tell. The wind blew but instead of dispersing this figure started moving.
Dany let go and crawled a few steps back in fear. I am the blood of the dragon, I must not fear. She got back onto her feet when the black silhouette unwrapped itself and now it was clear what was covering it: two black demonic looking wings opened and spread wide, showing the silhouette’s face. Dany saw herself staring back at her with blood red eyes instead of her purple ones. She was naked and covered with black liquid or was it blood? She couldn’t tell. “I am the blood of the dragon!” roared the silhouette as if she read her thoughts and charged towards her, flopping her wings, wrapped a hand around her wrist and…
“No!” Dany screamed as she awoke, sitting up restlessly. Her rapid breathing alone, caused dizziness. The morning sun shone through the small window of her room, providing distraction from her nightmare. She needed fresh air, so she stood up and walked out to the nearest terrasse she could find. The sky was clear, she closed her eyes, threw her head back, breathed in deep, opened them as she exhaled and saw the red comet. She remembered the last time she laid her eyes on it. It was the day after she walked through fire and her dragons were born and now again, when she was reborn. Once, she may have believed it might be connected to her, but now she wasn’t so sure.
She turned around when she heard footsteps approaching her and smiled at the priestess. Kinvara stood beside her, gazing far into the horizon where the sky met the sea. “This was my last wish… the last thing that crossed my mind as I drew my final breath.” Dany’s eyes watered as she continued “... to see the sun one last time; the lemon tree near the house with the red door; … home.” Her lips curved into a smile. Interlocking her fingers, she leaned over the edge of the terrasse and looked at the priestess “So… Who sits on the throne? Where is Drogon? Tell me everything.”
The priestess started with her child. Dany felt her heart straining her chest as she stood there listening to how he has been flying around, burning villages and cities alike. In Essos and in Westeros. How he was being hunted by the King’s armies, ordered to be captured and locked into the freshly build cages near the dragon pit. As if his army wasn’t enough, the King even promised a Lordship as a reward to whoever manages to seize him. All that led to, was an angered Drogon, even more burned cities and of course, more death. Dany didn’t even have time to think about what she would do with her life now since she will no longer play the game of thrones, but for now, one thing was certain, all her paths lead to Drogon. She needs to find him and tame him. He is her child after all, the last thing she has on this world.
“Did Tyrion suggest this? Make Bran King?” The priestess nodded and Dany mimicked her. “He is now the Hand of the King.” Her lips parted into a wide smile. “Of course he is.”
After Dany was informed about all of the conspiring allies; the wildings; the melted iron chairs; the Dothraki; the Unsullied; Queens in the North… she asked about the one thing that wasn’t mentioned “And Jon Snow?” - “He was sent back to the Night’s Watch, Your Grace.” He could only be alive after what he did with a Stark as a King, Dany thought.
“I am not a Queen, you can stop bowing every time you see me and stop calling me “Your Grace”.” Dany focused on that to distract herself. Every time she thought of Jon Snow, she felt an ache where his dagger used to be, it drained her strength. She would not think of him.
“It is not in your blood to sit still and watch as the world is ruled by another.” Kinvara turned to her but Dany refused to return the gesture.
“Perhaps not, but I can learn to sit still and just watch for a change. I am tired, I am weary of war Kinvara, I lost everything to that throne, I am not doing that again.” - “It is normal to fear, child. You died for it and death is...”
Now Dany turned and faced the red women, looking at her as if she failed to understand, still resting one hand over the wall of the terrasse. “I don’t fear death, I never have. I fear… me. I can’t control it, I can’t control me, I also fear...” I won’t be able to control Drogon. She meant to say it out loud but instead it just came as a thought in her head. She wasn’t used to show weakness or doubt herself. “...Someone unable to control themselves should not and would not rule.”
The priestess moved one step closer to her and Dany knew she meant to keep arguing. “Enough, I will hear no more of this.” She said calmly and took Kinvaras hands in hers. “Thank you for all you have done for me, I am grateful, but on the morrow I must ride and find my child before someone else does. So a horse is the last thing I will ask of you.” The priestess squeezed the purple-eyed girl’s hands. “No, your Grace, the last thing you will ask of me will be to bring you closer to the shadows.”
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