By the time she reached the river that would eventually lead her to Meereen, even the dimmest hint of a breeze was gone, leaving the day hot and dry. Had she walked, she would have been laying somewhere in the dirt, taking her final breaths, Dany knew. After a few days of walking alone, away from Vaes Dothrak, Jon had caught up to her riding a horse and clutching the straps of another. Her ride. She had no choice but to get on that dark red stallion that resembled Drogos and ride beside him. He must have gone back to Vaes Dothrak right after she told him to stay away from her and stollen two horses amidst all that chaos Drogon had caused. That, however, did not make this ride or seeing him every day any easier.
The river came as a blessing. Without hesitation, after she secured her stallion, Dany walked knee-deep into the water, soaking her red cloak and washing away the dirt from her face. Jon did the same. None of them spoke a word since he got back. She had so much to say, yet when she tried, nothing came out. Not knowing where to begin, she chose not to begin at all. What was the point anyway? What could they say that would change anything? Change anything to what? Why did it matter now? They never talked about the things that mattered the most anyway. So they rode in silence, pretending the other one is not riding just beside the other. It sure was easier this way.
When the sun was down and the temperature dropped enough, allowing sleep to come, she felt so tired, she sank into sleep in just a heartbeat. For the first time since she woke up that day in Volantis, she did not dream of the bloody demonic silhouette that carried her face. Instead, Dany was reaching her hand to the throne, her fingertips adjusting to the coldness of the round hilt of one of the thousand swords. A memory. Her dream was a memory. She was right back there, seeing what she saw, feeling what she felt, thinking what she thought, breathing the same cold air. Hope. A childish hope. God it was good to feel hope again. She had tried so hard and came so far, all her struggles had finally paid off, all her sacrifices had finally been worth it, all those she had lost, all those she had killed, all those betrayals… She was ready. Ready to build a new world, ready to break the wheel, ready to share it all with him.
So cold. The dagger painlessly pierced her heart. All she could feel was cold. Her lips clinging onto his, stealing his warmth, his clinging onto hers. Neither of them moves, as if moving would make it real. No. She finally broke off their last kiss and looked down. No, not you, please... not you too… Her eyes met his, already drowning in tears, begging him to deny the reality of this. Her heart is bleeding, yet she cannot feel it. No pain. Why? she wanted to ask, yet the word would not come, choking her. Blood was all she could taste now. Her legs gave out first, proving the reality of her death as she fell into his arms. I loved you and you killed me. A teardrop fell from his eye leaving a warm wet trail as it slit down her cheek. The last thing she would ever feel.
His face disappeared and a door replaced it. Wait… she knew that door, the door from her childhood, but the color was wrong. Suddenly, drops of dark-red liquid trickled along the edges, down the wooden door, changing its color. One step, two steps, she reached her hand. Warm. It’s blood… my blood? The drops became a stream of redness, coating the door and soaking her toes as it spread underneath her bare feet. The red door. Home. All that little girl prayed for was home, yet she never found it. Even now, dragons, armies, Seven Kingdoms… she had it all, but a home.
Her legs quivered and Dany dropped on her knees in a puddle of red, coloring the dress with her own blood. A loud crumbling sound echoed, shattering the red door in front of her, alluring that childish hope to follow suit. I have no home. A painful realization struck her very final thoughts. It is not worth it. Everything I have ever done was… for this? If she wasn’t choking on her own blood right now she might have even laughed. Dying in the arms of the one she loved and all she felt was emptiness. It’s all over now, it’s finally over. Nothing matters anymore. A voice guided her mind into peacefulness, maybe death wasn’t such a bad thing, maybe it was her only way out of this shit life. She even felt glad it was all over, she was letting it all go, finally giving up. And for the first time ever, Daenerys Targaryen felt freedom. Absolute freedom. Ironically, she never felt more alive than whilst drawing her very final, agonizing breath. It was horrible and it was beautiful. Blackness swallowed her, blackness so thick, she had never seen before and then, she was gone.
The break of dawn woke her. The sun was lurking behind the endless sea of yellow, shining its first beams through the weeds. Jon was up, feeding the horses. Since they started riding, she never actually saw him sleep.
“Why?” now the word came out before she could stop it. Jon turned around, his face revealing no emotion. The breeze was back, gently blowing, wavering her silvery locks into the air and casting playful shadows of the weeds upon her face. Each beat of her heart came faster than the previous, hastening her breathing. Just by looking into those Stark grey eyes, she could tell, he understood.
“Because Dany, thousands of innocent children, burned! You think it was easy for me?! Tell me, if you were me, would you not have done it!? Aye, what I did was unforgivable but what you did Dany…” Her lips parted as he raised the tone of his voice like he has had enough of justifying his actions and shook his head in disapproval. The surprise on her face did not go unnoticed, he took a step back and lowered his voice. “Do you even regret it at all?”
Do you? her eyes fell over the dagger strapped around his waist, breaking their eye contact and stood up. As she thought. No point of having this conversation. “We should ride.”
Now and again the little stream would gurgle where it flowed around a stone, joining the buzzing of insects, lazy dragonflies and glistening green wasps and stinging midges almost too small to see. Some days would feel like a day should, but most days felt everlasting. Few hours of sleep, scarcely enough food to hush their growling bellies, constant battle with the heat and of course… riding. They rode day and night. Dany’s thighs changed from bruises to open wounds and bleeding to numbness at least a few times. But it was a small price to pay if it meant getting to Meereen faster and getting rid of him, the constant reminder of pain. Now and again they would exchange some meaningless words to ensure they have kept their sanity. The silence helped them avoid unnecessary dangers. Every time they would hear voices of potential scouts or enemies or sounds only wild hungry animals could make, they would hide and wait for them to pass.
The Second Sons were her only hope now. They were still acting on her command, holding Meereen strong and successfully keeping the slavers out. If she meant to go back in the Dothraki Sea for Drogon, she would need an army or she would get captured again and probably end up raped and killed this time. Daario, the thought of him staying loyal even after she was gone, put a smile on her face. Who knew the one I trusted the least would turn out more trustworthy than the Stark I loved? She stole a quick glance of the man riding beside her. Loved and trusted with all my heart.
“You will get that throne you want so badly, I hope it brings you happiness.” she remembered Daario’s last words to her. If you only knew, she thought. Where would she be now, had she stayed with him and ruled The Bay of Dragons, controlling the slavers, surrounded by the people who called her mhysa, people that loved her? Would she have been happier? Would it all have been enough to keep her away from the throne chase? She would have had her three children beside her, alive and roaring through the sky, that at least was certain, and Westeros would have been the Land of the Dead. All for the better, perhaps. She shook her head. Every now and then, she had to force the angry thoughts lusting vengeance out of her mind. Last time she went along with them, she paid for it with her life.
The sharp edges of the pyramids diversified the sunshine, coloring each side with a different shade, brightest on the one with the entrance, guiding and welcoming the people of Meereen inside. Even behind the tall walls that surrounded the city, the huge proportions of the pyramids stood completely revealed. On the tip of the tallest one, a black flag serving as a background for the red three-headed dragon wavered in the wind. A Targaryen city. Dany smiled and pulled the straps of the horse continuing the ride as soon as she felt Jon’s eyes on her. Her eyes, however, did not wince away from the pyramid that carried many of her memories.
As soon as they were escorted into the room where she used to sit her days away, listening to the requests of her people, the man sitting on her old modest bench, on top of the stairs, stood up. “Daar-”
“Shh…” the man she knew very well hushed her as he took a few steps down the stairs, slowly approaching and circling around her as if he was checking the authenticity of an object he was buying. Dany rolled her eyes, but gave him time to digest the fact that she is back from the dead. When he was behind her, he leaned over, whispering right into her ear.
“Not bad… not bad at all, but you will never be her” he faced her with an angry expression on his face. Daario has shared his bed with enough priestesses to know that they were more than capable of adopting his Queen’s look. He interlocked his fingers behind his back and continued feeding his curiosity with her companion now, stood in front of Jon, towering over him, nearly a full head above him. Dany examined his face closely. She had to think of something and fast, Daario lacked patience and now he was about to lose his interest as well. He nodded and two of his guards brought Jon to his knees as the other two grabbed her arms.
“All rulers are either butchers or meat!... You told me that, remember?” Her voice turned soft begging him to remember.
The captain of the Second Sons halted his movement. In just a blink he was right in front of her, looking at her with the same look he gave his enemies right before he served them a lethal blow. A look she knew very well. Just when she was about to lose all hope, his stern look was replaced by a playful, childish one.
“Kiss me” he raised one eyebrow.
“What?” now her patience was put to the test.
“You say you are her…” he curved the corners of his lips downwards and opened his arms wide “...prove it.”
Ofcourse, she thought. Daario would not be Daario if he didn’t pull something like this off. Without further thinking, she freed her arms from the grip of his guards and tugged his shirt, pulling him in, raised herself on her toes and pressed her lips to his. Kissing him like she used to brought back every memory of this place. It looked the same, felt the same, even smelled the same. The stones that differed in size and shape covered the stairs, walls, even the ceiling, keeping the room cool. It came as a blessing after the endless ride under the hot sun.
Daario grabbed her by the arms and pushed her back. Now all she saw in his eyes was confusion. Sighing, Dany raised one hand over his cheek and smiled. “Daario, it’s me.” Again, he seemed not to care what she had to say, walking away from her and disappearing out of the room without a word. What did she expect? He was the least trusting person she had ever met. Jon was still on his knees, the guards gripping him tight, denying him any kind of movement. She wondered what was going through his mind right now.
Daario reappeared holding the safe end of a lit up torch in his hand. When he stood in front of her, she knew exactly what he wanted. Pressing her lips together and staring right into his eyes, she dove her hand into the flame, wrapping her fingers around the other edge of the torch, gripping it firmly. The heat was unbearable even for her after dehydrating under the sun for days. However, she felt no pain and the longer she held her hand amidst the flames, the wider Daarios lips parted. With one swift movement he threw the torch and picked her up in his arms, wrapping himself around her “I thought you were dead… they told me you were dead” Dany smiled, closed her eyes and returned his embrace. She felt safe in his arms, back then and now again. However, there was a time when she felt safe in Jon’s arms as well. Now, that was the last place she associated with safety.
She could feel the hectic beats of Daarios heart against her chest. “Welcome back, Meereen is yours, your Grace.” Dany pulled back and smiled at the man who looked exactly like when she had left him here, but instead of his armor, he wore a thin, loose shirt, revealing an accentuated collar bone and that muscly chest she liked very much.
“That’s very good to hear. First, I need you to send a raven down to Naath.”
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