An Unorthodox introduction to the House of the Dragon

by Peace_Hero

Summary:

Dany watched as three dragons circled around the Bloodstone isle, no doubt they and their riders were scouting the area for threats and looking for a suitable place to land.

She knew logically that she ought to be afraid of these dragons or more specifically their riders. Their presence was a response from King’s landing regarding her message…or to be more accurate, her existence. But even so, she could not help but gaze up in awe and joy at the sight of other dragons soaring in the sky.

Notes:

• Inspired by Be careful what you wish for by IronicallyPresent
• Inspired by The Dragon's Resurgence by AzalieKauriu

First time posting a fic, so I would appreciate any support or constructive feedback.
I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 1: A New Beginning

Dany watched as three dragons circled around the Bloodstone Isle, no doubt they and their riders were scouting the area for threats and looking for a suitable place to land.

She knew logically that she ought to be afraid of these dragons or more specifically their riders. Their presence was a response from King’s landing regarding her message…or to be more accurate, her existence. But even so, she could not help but gaze up in awe and joy at the sight of other dragons soaring in the sky.

One dragon had bright crimson-red scales that stood out the most amidst the clear blue sky. As it circled lower, she could see that it had an almost serpent-like appearance due to its elongated neck. Its rider must have spotted a suitable place to land as the dragon let out a high-pitched and choppy roar before breaking away from the other dragons. It flew down towards a long stretch of open beach that was within a reasonable walking distance from the former pirate cove over which she now ruled; it had been given the nickname Dragon’s cove by its former prisoners.

In response to the roar, one of the other dragons let loose a series of high trills in response as it too began to break away and descend, following the blood-red dragon. Unlike its companion this dragon's scales shone a bright yellow no doubt enhanced by the westward sun. As the dragon descended closer to the ground Dany noticed that it was the smallest of the three dragons, no larger than Drogon.

Finally, the last dragon began to make its descent and she could see why its rider waited until their companions had found a place to land.

It was gigantic. So much so, that it appeared to block out the sun.
It was almost as large as the black dragon she had dreamed of long ago.
She wondered if Balerion, the black dread, had grown to be this large in his lifetime.
After all it was said that dragons would keep growing as they aged as long as they had room to grow and food to eat.
How old must this dragon be to reach a size like that?

She was broken out of her musing by the roar that the enormous dragon let out as it came closer to Bloodstone. The ground underneath her feet seemed to shift at the force of the roar and several people around her either lost their footing in fright or covered their ears in pain.

Dany did neither, instead she continued to track the dragon’s descent until it landed, rocking the earth.
From this distance Dany could see that the dragon's scales had no doubt once been bright green and bronze, but they had become weathered and faded over time.
She wondered if her son Rhaegal would look similar, when he was older. Though if he would, she would likely not live long enough to see it.

Dany shook her head and turned towards her entourage, an assortment of guards and handmaidens who had bravely volunteered to escort her towards their visitors. They spoke a mixture of tongues and hailed from a variety of places and cultures; Westerosi, Dothraki, people of the free cities and even those of Ghiscari descent, though none were from slaver’s bay. One would usually not see such a group united together in common cause, however all of the people who resided in Dragon’s cove were former slaves who she had helped to free.

 

The pirates were certainly surprised when in the dead of night, three dragons appeared out of seemingly nowhere and descended upon them before the sentries could even raise a cry of alarm. Dragonfire lit up the night sky like a new dawn, as screams of fear and pain roused the rest of the pirates to attempt a counterattack.
Yet, they were ill-equipped to deal with dragons.

Her sons had turned the pirates' eyes towards the skies, causing the distraction that Dany’s plan desperately needed.
In the chaos, nobody noticed a child sneaking into the pirates' camp.
Those who guarded the slaves, had either abandoned their positions for their own self-preservation or attempted to fight back from a more defensible position.
Leaving the slaves, entirely unattended.

One unsuspecting pirate had dropped a dagger in their panic which Dany had used to hack at the ropes that locked the slaves into cages and cut the ones that bound them.
Dany told them that it was time that they took their freedom back.
…And they did so with vigour.

Eventually when the pirates realised that their arrows only served to irritate her children, they attempted to flee.
Some scrambled for the boats, pushing and shoving each other out of the way in their haste. While others threw themselves into the sea, attempting to swim to safety.
Neither method of escape saved them from the bite of her children’s jaws, nor the scorching flames that licked at their heels as they ran.

The only possible refuge from dragonfire were the nearby caves.
Yet in their desperate bid to escape, the pirates didn’t realise that their ‘merchandise’ had been freed, not until it was too late.

While Dany had been freeing the newly liberated slaves, she commanded those with any experience wielding a blade or a spear, to grab any weapon they could find and prepare an ambush at the entrance of the cave systems.
She knew that the pirates would turn towards it as a refuge, and she had no intention of letting them escape.

When the pirates rushed into the entrance of the cave system, spears and swords swiftly emerged from the darkness, and the sand beneath their feet was dyed red.
The pirates were pinned, dragonfire on one side and blades on the other.
The battle was over, shortly after that.
All the remaining pirates threw down their weapons and surrendered.

…All but one.
One pirate, who was either brave or stupid or some combination of the two, had managed to sneak up behind her.
Dany hadn't realised until she felt the cold bite of steel digging into the side of her throat.
The pirate wanted to use her as a human shield, using her to ward off any retaliation from the newly freed slaves.
Drogon had landed before the pirate snarling loudly in displeasure, his brothers followed suit landing behind Dany and the pirate.
Surrounding them from three different directions.

The pirate responded by digging his blade harder into the side of her throat, until Dany felt her blood running down her skin.
He had smiled smugly though his face was drenched in sweat, as he tried to negotiate his escape, reasoning that if he burned then so would she.
His false confidence had soured into rage, when Dany had plunged her borrowed Dagger into his thigh.
His pain distracted him, as the knife had left her neck.
His anger had quickly morphed into terror when she had uttered a single word.

“Dracarys.”

Together, Dany and the pirate were bathed in dragonflame from all sides.
Screams interrupted from everyone watching.
The pirate had collapsed onto the ground, he withered and wailed in pain as he clawed at his melting skin, before falling silent.

Eventually the screams and cries of the freed people died out, in muted horror as they stared at the flames.
But then…Dany emerged from the depths of the dragonfire.
Her skin glowed, like white hot metal in the depths of a forge.
The rags she had been wearing had been burnt away, she was covered in ash, and smelled of sulphur and smoke.
She was completely unburnt.

As all of the people stared at her in awe, she told them that they had taken back their freedom with their own hands, that they were no longer slaves but free men. She told them all that each of their lives were their own, that whatever they chose to do from then on was their decision. And Dany vowed that she would ensure that each of them would have the right to that decision for the rest of their lives

As the sun arose from the distant horizon, the free people bowed down before her, they cheered for her and each other as they celebrated their victory and liberation.
The new dawn which had signalled the start of a new, more hopeful future.

 

As the sun rose, it was clear that there was much work to be done.
Once Dany had helped to organise and split the workload amongst the people, it began in earnest.

Any slaves who had yet to be freed, were found and released from their bondage.
The pirates who had surrendered were swiftly imprisoned, and guarded under lock and key, until such a time where they could be punished accordingly.
The bodies of the fallen were gathered and moved to the far side of the island, where they could be burned by dragonfire, in order to stop the spread of disease.
Some of the female former slaves had offered to find Dany appropriate garments, which Dany was grateful for.
After which she had done whatever she could to help, her small stature did not discourage her from contributing to the laborious workload.

Once all the chains had been broken and after all the bodies had been burned, the freed people named her Queen of Bloodstone and asked to follow her, at least for a time.
They called her; the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains and the Mother of Dragons.
How ironic, that those same titles followed her into another era.

Maybe the gods had played a cruel joke. Maybe it had been magic.
It hadn’t been a dream, Dany knew her dreams could be strange at times, but she knew with absolute certainty that she was wide awake, though she wished that she would wake up all the same.
In any case Dany had felt somewhat thankful that she was alone when she discovered her misplacement in time.

The new dawn turned into dusk and into dawn again, and the free people began to consider and talk about the future, which was a novelty for them.
For when a person was enslaved for so long, they started to believe that they did not have a future, only an eternal now.
And that the best they could do was survive until dawn and then do it all again.
That was no way to live.

So, Dany encouraged them all to think about the future, to think about what they wanted to do, or go. She would do this same, for if she looked back she was lost.

But there was one thing that was certain about the future, they could not stay on Bloodstone forever.
One of Dany’s first acts as queen was to organise a council of advisors to assist her governance of the former pirate's bay and all of its residents, after all a queen could not rule alone.
One of her advisors had reported that if they stayed, they would all eventually starve to death.
The pirates had eaten and drank to their heart's content while the former slaves were given one meal a day, perhaps two if the labour was particularly intensive and their masters were feeling generous. Now that the pirates were all dead and the slaves all freed, they no longer had to be restricted to one meal a day. While this was a boon for morale and the health of the former slaves, it posed a few logistical issues.

Bloodstone thankfully had a few freshwater springs, so they wouldn’t die of thirst. But few things grew on Bloodstone and though they had the food that the pirates had hoarded and could fish to their heart's desires, they could not replace all of the food that would be consumed. Eventually they would run out of food.

That wasn’t even accounting for other factors that would make it exceedingly difficult to settle permanently on Bloodstone. The island had no fixed infrastructure, only temporary buildings, uneven walkways and weathered docks that the pirates forced their captives to build. The only permanent shelter available were the cave systems that ran throughout the isle and the boats that transported the people here, neither of which were exactly suitable for long-term habitation.

Another factor was that the chain of islands that Bloodstone was a part of, the stepstones, apparently stormy weather fairly frequently. Dany loved storms, perhaps a by-product of her birth, but she was self-aware enough to know of the death and destruction they could cause, especially without suitable shelter.

And finally, there was the fact that the stepstones were a collection of notorious pirate dens. Though the pirates and masters who had all gathered on Bloodstone to sell and trade their ‘goods’ had been defeated, it did not mean that every pirate or slaver who had previously visited the Stepstones had been defeated, nor any who meant to visit the chain of islands in the near future,
If they stayed, they would be discovered, and the pirates would attack without mercy.
Dany and her children could drive the pirates back into the sea, but more would come, attacking again and again until they were eventually overwhelmed.

Though Dragons were an advantage in battle, Dany was not foolish enough to believe that they guaranteed victory.
Besides what kind of victory would it be if all the, now free, people slid back into chains or were killed in a fight for their freedom?
Dany refused to accept that.

So, there was only one choice. They had to leave.
The only question was, what was to be their intended destination?

Sunspear was arguably one of the closest ports, but this was vehemently vetoed not only by her council, but also by every person she had spoken to on the matter.
The reason was the same every time.
It was well known what happened to Queen Rhaenys Targaryen when she flew to Dorne, and nobody wanted Dany to suffer a similar fate.
Even the few Dornishmen who were amongst the former slaves, argued that their countrymen would likely shoot first and ask questions later.
Needless to say that idea was swiftly abandoned.

Lys and Tyrosh were tentatively suggested but were quickly discarded. They may have been part of the ‘free cities', but the name was severely misleading, as many people who resided there were not free at all. Most people were not so keen to approach, let alone sail towards a place where slaves outnumbered masters by 5-to-1.

The disputed lands in Essos were barely considered, they needed supplies and civilization, not a warzone with a surplus of sellswords.

Bravos was seriously considered. A city that had been founded by escaped slaves, whose first law decreed that no man, woman or child would ever be made into a slave. It would be an ideal haven. However, they lacked the supplies to make such a journey across the narrow sea. So, while the idea had merit, it was shelved to be revisited at a later date.
In a way Dany was secretly glad for this, though she remembered so little, she had never forgotten the love she had for Bravos. The house with the red door with the lemon tree had been her home, before she ever knew what ‘home’ was. If she returned there, she feared that she would be overwhelmed by melancholy and grief, and that she would revert to the child who cried when she had to leave the only home she had ever known.
If she looked back, she was lost.

Estermont, an isle that was apparently off the coast of the Stormlands was put forward as a potential destination, the suggestion resulted in mixed opinions.

One side argued that although wary of outsiders, Westeros did not condone slavery so they would not be put in chains upon arrival. If Dany sought an audience from the Lord of Estermont, she could explain the situation and ask for sanctuary, which could be granted in thanks for defeating an enemy that consistently plagued the narrow sea and coastlines of Westeros.

Others argued that the Lord of Estermont might not see them as refugees but as a pirate incursion, since they lacked the dye to change all of the sails the ships flew. The Lord of Estermont would likely call his neighbours and allies for aid and engage in battle, the fighting could potentially lead to a slaughter, fear taking precedence over logic.

They argued and debated and argued some more, eventually both sides realised they were in a stalemate and asked Dany for her opinion on the matter.
Dany had listened to all voices and opinions before voicing her own.
It was true that Estermont was relatively nearby, and they would have more than enough supplies to reach the isle. Dany could seek an audience with the Lord and ask that he grant her request for sanctuary. He may even be more receptive once he knew that some of the refugees hailed from the Stormlands and that he would not have to worry about a pirate incursion from the Stepstones.

However, it was also true that Dany did not know the Lord of Estermont, she did not know any of the Lords and Ladies of Westeros for that matter. She didn’t know how he would react. There was no guarantee that he would accept her request for an audience nor grant her request of sanctuary. Worse, there was no guarantee that he would mistake the refugees as a threat and seek to launch a preemptive strike, for an attack that would not happen.

Dany thought for a while, before she came to a decision.
An entire fleet of ships could be mistaken for a pirate incursion and thus be attacked on sight, but a single ship with no signs of piracy could be allowed into port and pass on a message to the Lord of Estermont. The message would simply state that all the pirates who frequented Bloodstone had been defeated and that ships could pass through the stepstones without fear. Those who had been taken captive by the pirates had revolted against their capturers and sought temporary sanctuary at Estermont. That the refugees would be willing to pay for any necessary supplies and that they would not impose themselves on Estermont for long.

If that was not enough to convince the Lord of Estermont to at the very least investigate the claims and allow the former slaves to enter the port of Estermont under a flag of temporary sanctuary, then mentioning Dany’s mere existence might be more…motivational.

While Dany hoped that the Lord would allow the former slaves temporary respite, if not as a kindness then at least in thanks for defeating an enemy that had amongst other things, terrorised the coasts of the Stormlands. She knew that Lord Estermont was under no obligation to offer any sort of aid.

He would however be obligated to report, at least for his own self-preservation, the existence of an unknown person of Valyrian descent who had three dragons. This report would no doubt be carried via raven to King’s landing and the King would be compelled to investigate her existence, after all to do otherwise would be the height of folly.

The King would likely send out other dragon riders to confirm her existence, assess her, and if necessary…ensure that she was no longer a threat. Not that she planned to be one in the first place, but that likely wouldn't matter to the King.

Her advisors protested, not wanting her to endanger herself, but she put her foot down.

When she announced the course of action that had been chosen, she asked for volunteers amongst the people. She asked for those who were experienced sailors, for those who were in good physical health and for those who spoke the common language of Westeros; to man the fastest ship available and set a course for Estermont. Many people had volunteered, so much so that Dany had needed the help of her council to cut down the number of volunteers to a suitable number.
The chosen crew members had conferred and agreed upon a ship, a galley, that suited their needs. The day was spent, consulting maps, ensuring the ship was in good condition and loading it with supplies for the journey. It had been estimated that the newly renamed “Swift Elenei”, after the child of a goddess of wind and a sea god, would arrive at the isle of Estermont within a week provided that the weather was fair. If the crew did not return within a few weeks' time after their departure…everyone would have to assume the worst and that other options would have to be considered.

Dany had made sure to give her heartfelt thanks to the crew of the “Swift Elenei” for bravely volunteering for the mission they were to undertake. She had also announced that she would fly with them, atop Drogon, until they were outside the Stepstones and that they would be given some of the finest alcohol that she had managed to find from the pirate hoard. Both announcements were met with toothy grins and enthusiastic cheers.

The night before the “Swift Elenei” was set to depart, a small feast was not only in the crew’s honour but to also celebrate the maiden voyage of the ship. Dany gave a toast to the crew, who were enjoying the finest ale available, thanking them for their bravery and encouraged everyone to enjoy themselves.
It was a joyous night; many were as drunk on ale as they were on laughter. Off-tune sea shanties and songs of different tongues filled the air as everyone, including herself, danced the night away in celebration.
It was a night filled with hope.

Sadly, Dany had also learned that she had not retained her previous alcohol tolerance and had to retire early when the sky wouldn’t stop spinning. Thankfully she had the foresight to ask someone to wake her, early the next morning so that she could escort the “Swift Elenei”, outside the Stepstones.
Though she was plagued with a headache for most of the day, which hadn’t been helped by the bright sun nor her people’s shouts of encouragement as the ship departed. Still, she didn’t regret it, not after seeing her people so happy.

That was what the former slaves of Dragon’s cove had become to her, her people.
She was aware that they were not those she had led and ruled before, it was not her intention to use these people as placeholders.
In all honesty, she tried to keep herself busy, lest she think of what she had lost and drown in her grief and guilt.
A queen belonged to her people not to herself, these people had chosen her and as such it was her duty to protect and lead them, to give them as much devotion as they had for her.

 

Her entourage looked towards the distant dragons with trepidation.
“You do not have to join me if you do not wish to.” Dany spoke gently, she made sure to repeat the same message in the different tongues of her people for those who had difficulty understanding the common language of Westeros.
“Dragons are magnificent creatures, but they can be...overwhelming at times. Your hesitancy is understandable, and there is no shame in that. I would not force any of you to accompany me to greet our guests.”

In response one of her younger handmaidens, younger than her current body, squared her shoulders and walked towards Dany. She grasped one of her hands with both of hers as she proclaimed for all of her entourage to hear “Queen…need…escort”, the common language of Westeros was not her mother tongue. But though her words were uncertain, the conviction in her voice was not, “Protect you.”
Then one of her guards, a Westerosi hedge knight whose name she knew was Davos, stepped forward as well. “Begging your pardon your grace, but it's as the little one said”, he smiled gently down at the little handmaiden who was still holding her hand, before looking back into her eyes. “A queen needs her escort.”

And so one by one, each member of her entourage stepped forward, proclaiming their conviction to protect her and act as a dutiful escort.

Not because they were ordered to do so, but because they chose to do so.

Even after all this time, seeing the fruits of liberation and freedom before her, brought warmth to her heart and joy to her soul.

Dany smiled and nodded her head slightly, acknowledging their decision.

She paused for a moment as she looked down at the little handmaiden who still held her hand. Gently keeping hold of the girl's hands, Dany knelt down slightly, so that she could look eye-to-eye with the brave girl before her.
“What is your name, little one?”, She spoke slowly in the dialect of Lys, a language of the free-cities which she resolved to refamiliarise herself with.

“Mya”, the little handmaiden bashfully replied.
“Mya, I have an important task for someone as brave as you to carry out. Would you carry this platter and present it in front of our guests when the time comes?”

Mya puffed out her chest with pride, “Yes your grace.”

Her obvious enthusiasm was met with light chuckles from the rest of her entourage.

“Thank you”, Dany said as she kissed Mya’s forehead, “Thank you all.”

At last Dany rose to her feet and gazed towards the dragons in the distance. Her heart ached with the force of her longing, but she steeled it with resolve.

Though she did not know what the outcome of this meeting would be, she knew one thing was certain.
Nothing would be like it was before.

“Let us be off then.”

Chapter 2: The First Meeting

Summary:

Daenerys meets some of her relatives.

Notes:

I wrote this fic for purely self-indulgent reasons, but it has been great reading all of your comments!
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

 

High Valyrian
[I tried to do translations, but I quickly realised that it was out of my depth, so the only High Valyrian words are dragon commands since they are singular words rather than sentences that I have to string together.]

Her entourage began to slowly tread up the beach, towards the area where the other dragons had landed. Her guards walked in a wedge-like formation in-front of Dany, while her handmaidens brought up the rear. With this formation, Dany had been surrounded on all sides but was given ample room to breathe.

One of her guards held up a white flag of parley, which whipped about in the wind. She had been tempted to walk with her house’s heraldry on display but had decided that meeting under a symbol of neutrality would likely garner a more..positive response.

As the distance between her entourage and the envoys from King’s landing closed, she could see that even though there were three dragons, more than three people were waiting for them.

Two of their number appeared to be guards, dressed in gleaming full-plate armour and each wearing white cloaks that were fluttering in the wind. Were those the garments of the Kingsguard that Ser Barristan had spoken of?

The guards stood so that they flanked three others, a man and two women. Dany absentmindedly noticed that none of them seemed to wear any armour and that of the three of them, the man was the only one visibly armed. Dany’s attention was primarily focused on the colour of their hair, for each of them had heads of golden-silver hair, like her own.

Targayens.

Dany swallowed a heavy lump in her throat, her heart began to race in her chest.
A mixture of longing, of grief, and of giddiness filled her very being.
She had never met another Targaryen, bar her brother Viserys, now it seemed she would get to meet three.

She wanted to jump for joy, yet she could only bemoan the unfavourable circumstances that had caused this meeting to occur. Her distant kin had not come to Bloodstone as enemies, but they had also not come here as family or even as allies. They had only come in response to the possible threat her existence posed. Dany was not foolish enough to believe that the other Targaryens would welcome her with open arms, nor even acknowledge her as a member of House Targaryen.

It stung, but she could understand the perspective.

Having noticed her entourage, the Westerosi Targaryens had moved a set distance away from their respective dragons, before they stopped and observed her entourage’s continued approach.

Dany’s limited view was then blocked when her guards and handmaidens closed ranks around her, in response to the dragons letting loose an assortment of trills and hisses, a clear warning to step not a single step further towards their riders.
Which her entourage wisely heeded.
And for a brief period of time, Dany could only hear the wind whistling in her ears and the sounds of dragons.

Then a voice broke the silence.

“You stand before emissaries of the Crown, chosen by his royal highness King Viserys of House Targaryen!”, the voice heralded. “King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm!”

Dany had only a moment to shudder at the mention of the name ‘Viserys’ before the voice continued.

“You stand in the presence of; The Princess of Dragonstone, Rhaenyra Targaryen! The Prince Daemon Targaryen! And the Lady, Leana Velaryon!”

 

Though Dany was admittedly poorly educated, she did recognise a few of the names that were announced.

Viserys had often ranted and raved at how their ancestors had danced away his birthright of having a dragon. Due to a Targaryen civil war, known as “The Dance of the Dragons”, which had nearly caused the annihilation of House Targaryen…and had led to the death of the last dragon. Viserys had often spoken angrily of their ancestors' stupidity, but his vitriol was repeatedly focused on the leader of one of Targaryen factions. The Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.

Viserys had claimed that she had led a faction of House Targaryen against her brother Aegon, second of his name and rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms, and tried to usurp his throne for herself. He had often blamed her for the fact that he had no dragon of his own, and that if she had just accepted her place, House Targaryen would still have dragons and the Usurper would have burnt on the trident. He never attempted to hide his glee when he recounted how her brother, King Aegon, ordered his dragon to burn the would-be-Queen alive in-front of her only remaining child.

Viserys had said that her pathetic attempt at ruling the realm was proof that only a King could rule, not a Queen.

Dany knew from personal experience that ruling in enough itself was difficult, due to numerous factors that had to be carefully balanced, lest they topple like a house of cards at the slightest hint of a breeze. However, any difficulty in ruling that she had encountered due to her sex was from men who could not believe she could rule…due to her sex.

The problem was the lack of faith these men had in her aptitude and abilities as a ruler, not her lack of a cock.

Why would Queen Rhaenyra or any queen for that matter, Targaryen or not, be different from herself in that regard?

Besides, Dany had frequently taken Viserys' retellings of their family history and the subsequent lessons that he tried to impart upon her, with a large grain of salt. She had made it a habit after she had discovered that King Maegor, whom her brother referred to as “The Wise”, was actually known by his epitaph “The Cruel”. Needless to say Dany was aware that her brother’s version of their family's history was biassed to say the least.

After all, here was further proof that the events he recounted were not entirely truthful. If Princess Rhaenyra wrongfully usurped her brother, why was she given the title “Princess of Dragonstone”? Was that not the title given to the rightful heir of the iron throne?

Mayhaps Queen Rhaenyra did fail to rule the seven kingdoms, her rule could have failed due to any number of reasons that Dany wasn’t aware of, but one of those reasons was not the fact that she was a Usurper.

 

Daemon Targaryen was another name that Viserys frequently mentioned when he ranted about the Dance of the Dragons. Unlike the Queen Rhaenyra’s name, Viserys often spoke of the Prince with a similar reverence he held for their father King Aerys. Viserys called Daemon Targaryen “A true dragon” ,and spoke of his heroic actions with pride. The only gripe Viserys had, whenever he spoke of Daemon Targaryens deeds, was the fact that he crowned his wife Rhaenyra as Queen, rather than crowning himself as King.

Dany could admittedly see the bravery and daring in Daemon Targaryen’s actions during the battle of the god’s eye, after all jumping of dragonback onto another in order to defeat an enemy could only be called a legendary feat. However, she failed to see what was heroic about ordering the death of a child, particularly one who had no part in any of the tragedies that occurred during the Dance. Viserys, to her horror, had only spoken of it as a necessary and justified action, one that proved the strength of House Targaryen.

In what world could the death of a child be necessary and justified?

She had told her brother as much, and the fact that if such a horrific action proved the strength of House Targaryen, perhaps it was for the best that they had such strength no longer.

He had beaten her for that comment.

For surely he proved his mighty Targaryen heritage, by beating a child whom he was senior to by eight years.

 

The other two names that had been announced were more unfamiliar to her. Viserys had often referred to himself as King Viserys, third of his name and rightful King of the seven kingdoms. So she knew that there had been two kings before him with the same name, however he hardly ever mentioned their accomplishments, or if anything significant happened during their kingships.

The name Leana Velaryon was even less familiar to her. She knew only a few of the Houses of Westeros and House Velaryon was certainly not one of them.

Regardless of how biassed history was, it painted a picture of who here ancestors would become…but that did not necessarily reflect who they were now.
Dany supposed she would have to see for herself.

 

Her trail of thought was interrupted when another voice spoke out. A woman’s voice, clear and commanding.

“Days ago, the crown was made aware of an envoy sent to the seat of House Estermont! This envoy claimed that those who were unjustly held here, revolted against their captors, and now seek sanctuary! The crown is willing to grant this request!...However…”

The woman’s voice paused for a moment, as if she was looking for something…or someone.

“…The envoy claimed that the one who freed you, did so with the aid of dragons! Dragons, which can only possibly belong to House Targaryen! Let your leader, the one known as ‘Stormborn’ step forward so that we might discuss any potential sanctuary…and the dragons that you proclaim are yours.”

Hidden from view, Dany sighed in exasperation. Did they truly think of her as little more than a thief who had somehow stolen from House Targaryen?
Despite the statements' arrogance and the implication it conveyed, one could argue that it was technically true.
Her children were a part of House Targaryen, and though Dany had not stolen her children’s dragon eggs, someone likely had.
After all, why would something as precious as dragon eggs be in Essos? Far away from any Targaryen settlement?

Still she supposed that only by meeting her ancestors, would she be able to resolve this…misunderstanding and confirm that her people would be granted safe passage and sanctuary.

Judging by his clenched fists and raised shoulders, Davos had caught the implication as well and felt offended on Dany’s behalf.
Though she was touched by her friend’s desire to defend her honour, now was not the time for him to attempt to start a brawl, especially since a fight between a man and a dragon would be no fight at all.
She subtly tapped the back of one of the man’s fists to gain his attention.
It worked as his body untensed slightly and he peered down at her over his shoulder, the annoyance in his eyes fading and instead was replaced with a questioning look.

Dany motioned for him to stand aside.
His eyes asked if she was sure.
She nodded resolutely.
He nodded in-turn as he turned around, he must have gestured her message to her other guards, for they parted like the opening gates of Meeren.
Allowing her to pass through, and finally see her kin face-to-face.

 

Now that her view was unobstructed, Dany could observe each member of the crown’s envoy more closely.

The three Valyrians stood tall and proud, the woman who had likely just spoken was in the middle of the group, with the two other Valyrians either side of her and their guards flanking them.

The guards appeared identical in every way, from their polished armour to their blades, to their flapping white cloaks and their faces. Twin brothers. Dany idly wondered how neither guard was mistaken for the other?

Each of her distant kin wore what appeared to be some kind of riding leathers; jackets that reached past their knees but parted in the middle, dark breachers, shiny boots and black gloves. All of which were accentuated with dragon scales and heraldry.

The male Valyrian slouched slightly with a cocky grin etched upon his face. But his smile and seemingly relaxed manner was not reflected in his dark indigo eyes, which were narrowed and cold. One of his hands hung loosely at his side, whilst the other was caressing the hilt of his sword. He had long silver hair that loosely blew about in the wind and sown over his heart was a red three-headed dragon, this must be the Prince Daemon Targaryen.

The other woman, the one that had not spoken, had her hands clasped gently infront of her. Her eyes were a warm brown with a hint of violet, she was smiling as well but it was a smile of neutrality, reserved for those who were neither allies nor enemies. Her ringlets of silver hair cascaded down her back and over her scarlet jacket. Unlike her two companions, a seahorse sigil was displayed proudly upon her chest. As Dany was unfamiliar with the sigil, she concluded that this must be the Lady Leana Velaryon.

Finally, she looked at the other Valyrian woman, who stood at the centre of the Westerosi envoy. The woman’s hands were clasped around her back and her face was set in stone as she stared at Dany’s people. Yet, although she tried to mask her emotions, her bright blue-lilac eyes gave away her curiosity. She had long silver-gold hair that was tied back into a tight braid. The bright red Targaryen sigil was displayed over her heart. This woman must be the Crown Princess, Rhaenyra Targaryen.

All three of them were very beautiful…and all three of them appeared very surprised?

The Princess Rhaenyra appeared to have been about to speak again, but not a single sound slipped past her lips as her jaw dropped slightly, her eyes widening as she stared at Dany. Prince Daemon visibly stood up straighter from his slouched position, his eyes furrowed in confusion. While the Lady Leana’s smile dropped off of her face, instead replaced with a raised eyebrow and a questioning look as she cocked her head to the side.

To be fair, Dany doubted that she was what they had expected.
A clearly Valyrian child, dressed in a slightly too large doublet, rough breachers and well worn boots. A small bandage wrapped around her neck. Her hair adorned with braids that were tied with bells, while the rest hung loose.
She was not especially well-dressed for the envoy of a King, even less so than for an envoy made up of royalty. Apparently the pirates and masters who had come to trade many goods, had limited clothes to trade that were of high quality and her size. Dany’s handmaidens had helped to pick some appropriate clothes whilst she had bathed in the sea to wash away the traces of sweat and ash, in an attempt to make herself more presentable.
Even so, they had probably expected someone more…regal…and taller given that they all had to tilt their heads downwards to stare at her.

Dany held her hands lightly behind her back, her back straight and her chin high, as she moved a few paces forward before stopping, intent on greeting the Crown’s envoys as an equal.

Davos’s proud voice rang throughout the air, as he responded in kind to the earlier introduction.
“You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of Bloodstone, The Unburnt, The Breaker of Chains and the Mother of Dragons.”

If the Valyirans were surprised before, they were quite flabbergasted now.

With the declaration of her name and each title that heralded her identity, each set of eyes grew wider and wider as any semblance of composure dropped from their faces.
Dany hoped that her urge to laugh aloud was not plainly written across her face.

She allowed a small smile of amusement to appear on her face as she introduced herself to her distant kin. “Well met my Princess, my Prince and my Lady. Welcome to Bloodstone, I thank you for your urgent response to my message.”

“Your…Your message?”, the Crown Princess stammered in shock.

“Indeed. I sent my envoy to Estermont with a message asking for safe passage for my people and asking for temporary sanctuary. I also gave my envoy instructions, that should the Lord Estermont feel…disinclined to listen to my message, my existence was to be revealed which would suitably motivate him to at the very least alert any relevant parties. In this case, the Crown itself.”

“You…knew we were coming, you planned for this?” Lady Leana seemed only slightly less stupefied than Princess Rhaenyra.

“I thought it very likely, the Crown might have ignored the pleas of refugees but it certainly wouldn’t ignore someone who claimed to have three dragons.”

“So it was all a lie then? A mere plea for attention?” Prince Daemon’s surprise had morphed into suspicion, both of his hands rested atop the pommel of his sword, as if to stop himself from unthinkingly drawing his blade.

Dany's smile of amusement almost broadened, but she refrained and instead merely raised an eyebrow.
The Prince narrowed his eyes in fury, “You dare claim-”. His irate voice was cut-off as he heard them.
Her children.

They roared a sweet song, no doubt drowning out any doubts of her claim and her identity.
Her kin did not stagger at the sight of dragons in the sky, as most people would, but they were unable to avert their eyes from her sons.
Her sweet Viserion. Her wild Rhaegal. Her fierce Drogon.
They had come to help their mother.
Dany’s heart overflowed with the love she felt for her sons, and for the love her sons had for her.

Her children had decided to copy the early display. They circled above both groups, not unlike how the other dragons had encircled the isle earlier.

The air was filled with the shrieks, chirps and trills as all of the dragons. It created a wonderfully symphony of dragon song that grew into a crescendo, as all the dragons roared as one.

Her escort had the good sense to pull back and move further down the beach as Drogon began his descent. Dany knew that he wanted to make an impression, and his brothers would inevitably follow his example.

Dany made sure to stare directly at Prince Daemon, as she pointed to her side.
The sound of beating wings grew faster and louder, sand was flung into the air and Dany felt the heat of her son’s blood as he landed where she had pointed, beside her.

She felt the ground shake again as Visenrion landed to her left, and again, as Rhaegal landed beside Drogon.
They bared their teeth and growled, asking who dared to question their mother?

 

Dany merely giggled at her childrens antics, she reached up to scratch Drogon under his chin as he nuzzled into her side, purring with delight.
She laughed louder when Visenrion nudged his brother aside, to which Drogon bit him playfully in retaliation, as her sweet son demanded his mother’s attention and affection.
He crooned softly when he received it.
Dany would offer some attention for her son Rhaegal later when in private, her wild son was very particular about how and when he received affection, as he mis-liked it when it was displayed in front of an audience.
At the moment he was content to keep growling at the King’s landing envoy.

Speaking of which, Dany could see that they looked at her children with a mixture of disbelief, worry and wonder.

“Do you still believe that I lied, My Prince?”,Dany asked as she continued to pet Visenrion.

Prince Daemon blinked multiple times as he gawked at her dragons, as if to wake himself from a dream, which proved ineffective as he was indeed awake.
“I suppose not”, He answered faintly as he continued to stare in disbelief at her children, before shaking his head as he focused his attention upon her. “Your dragons are proof of your Valyrian heritage, I'll grant you that. But that does not mean that you have the right to claim the name Targaryen, little Dragonseed”.

Dany tilted her head to the side, confused “Forgive me, My Prince. I am unfamiliar with the term “Dragonseed””.

“It is a term used to refer to natural sons and daughters, who were fathered by those of Valyrian descent.” Lady Leana explained in a gentle tone of voice.

Just how many natural sons and daughters of Valyrian descent were there, to warrant the creation and usage of the term “Dragonseed”, when alluding to them?
Was their existence that commonplace?
Dany had only met a few who claimed to be descended from Blood of the Dragon in her entire lifetime, such as Brown Ben Plumm and Quentyn Martell.
It apparently was not such a rare characteristic during this time.

“I am trueborn, Your Grace. As were my parents and their parents before them.”

Her answer gave the Prince and the Lady pause, unlike Princess Rhaenyra, who gave no indication of her previously lost composure. Though her face was stern, her blue-eyes burned with bewilderment and curiosity.
“What is your parentage?”

At this Dany hesitated, she knew of her parentage but the only proof she had were her words, any documentation that proved her heritage was ironically lost to time.
What would be more outlandish? Lying about her heritage and hoping that she would not be caught in a lie? Or explaining that she was in fact Princess Rhaenyra’s many times great-granddaughter who had somehow travelled from the distant future to this current era?

Neither option sounded particularly appealing for different reasons.
So Dany decided to answer as honestly as possible, while avoiding any mention of her displacement in time.
“My mother’s name was Rhaelle and my father was her brother-husband, Aerys”, she answered carefully.

“Aerys?” Princess Rhaenyra’s eyes continued to stare at Dany’s face, although her eyes seemed to be looking through her rather than at her. Her face was furrowed in confusion and contemplation, before her eyes suddenly widened and snapped back to look directly at Dany’s.

“...Aerys Targaryen? The one they called the Mad King!?”. The Princess's voice rose alongside her mounting incredulity.

…How?
How could she know that name?
How could she possibly know her father’s name?!
Was there someone who bore the name “Aerys Targeryen” during this time that she was not aware of?
Had someone else been given the nickname of “The Mad King” before her father?
It didn’t make any sense.
How could Princess Rhaenyra possibly recognise that name?
She didn’t understand.

Dany’s mind churned with endless explanations, countless theories and confused thoughts. She was only pulled out of her moment of rumination, when she felt a warm body of scales bump into her side.

It took a moment to gather her thoughts and assess her surroundings, but apparently her short moment of disquiet had nearly caused a diplomatic incident.

Having sensed her increasing distress, Visenrion had lovingly nuzzled into Dany’s side while crooning softly. While Drogon had taken a step forward, his discontent at his mother’s distress was made known as he growled loudly. Rhaegal had spread his wings wide, snarling and hissing his displeasure.

The other dragons had responded to her son’s aggression in-kind.
The yellow-gold dragon had also taken a step forward to match Drogon and growled a high pitched growl. The serpent-like dragon’s back was arched upwards like a cat, his wings spread wide as he hissed. Finally, the gigantic dragon heaved herself up from where she had slumped on the ground and though she did not lift herself to her full height she still towered over her sons, she let out a long loud groan voicing her displeasure.

The groan forced Dany to regain control of her limbs, she couldn’t afford to be so distressed, she appreciated her children’s protectiveness but at the moment it was less than helpful.

“It’s alright. I’m alright.” Dany reassured her children, softly and sweetly.

She repeated the phrase over and over again, as she started to stroke Visenrion again, his content purrs and Dany’s voice eventually convinced her other two son’s to return to a calmer state.

Though her son’s had mostly calmed down, the other dragons still had their hackles raised, though she could tell that they were less aggressive than before.
Still each of her ancestors turned to face their dragons, imploring them to calm down.

The high Valyrian fell off each of their lips, calmly yet firmly, “Lykiri” (calm).

It was strange to see how her ancestors interacted with their dragons, the bond and love each pair shared was plain as day. However, it felt slightly different from the bonds and love she and her sons shared. Perhaps her ancestors saw their dragons as their sibling or their life-long closest companion, rather than their child?
Dany hoped that there would come a time where she could satiate her burning curiosity. She wanted to know more about her ancestors, she wanted to know more about dragons, she wanted to know more…about her family. No matter how distant.
It was selfish, especially given the current circumstances, but oh how Dany wanted.

Speaking of present circumstances, she was just thankful that a disaster had been averted, though Dany was quite disappointed in herself for her moment of distress. She couldn’t afford to do so at the moment.

Eventually, the other dragons settled and their riders returned their attention to Dany. Princess Rhaenyra looked…worried, which in itself wasn’t anything out of the ordinary considering a massive diplomatic incident had just been avoided. However, she looked worried…for Dany. That was not the response Dany was expecting, nor used to, and she wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Dany licked bottom lip nervously, her throat felt dry as she answered “...I have been told that he was often referred to as such, yes.”

Princess Rhaenyra’s eyes were now fixated upon her, alight with so many feelings that Dany couldn’t possibly pinpoint one.
“You claim to be the daughter of the Mad King?”

Dany raised her chin high, her heartbeat was quick but her voice was steady “Yes, I am.”

The Crown Princess continued to stare, though a small smile was beginning to emerge on her face.
A smile of what?
Of Wonder? Of Joy? Of Relief? Of Fascination?
It could be any of them, it could be all of them.
To say that Dany was confused, would be an understatement.

 

The moment was broken by the unsheathing of a sword.
Prince Daemon had drawn his blade and was pointing it directly at her heart while glaring at her.
Dany heard other weapons being drawn out of scabbards and bow string being pulled back, she saw the two Kingsguard unsheathe their own swords in response.
No doubt her guards had responded to the act of aggression, they could not fight dragons, but they could fight men.

Nevertheless, she held up a hand, signalling them to stop.
Given that the cloaked knights slowly lowered their swords into a more relaxed stance, Dany guessed that her guards had not sheathed their weapons, but at least no longer appeared to be mere seconds from charging towards the Prince.

Princess Rhaenyra’s commanding voice cut through the tense air, “Daemon, stop.”

“You heard her.” His eyes roamed over Dany’s face, looking for any sort of sign that she comprehended the words spoken in high Valyrian. He must have been satisfied with her apparent ignorance, as he continued.
“An insolent Dragonseed claiming the name Targaryen is an easily fixed problem. A Dragonseed claiming a dragon could be solved with lands and titles in exchange for fealty to the King. If she is who she says she is, then she is a threat and must be dealt with.”

Lady Leana looked at him, horrified. “She is a child. Barely older than our own daughters.”

The mention of his children caused a flicker of hesitation to appear in his eyes before they hardened again with resolve. “Children grow up.”

While Lady Leana’s eyes widened further with disbelief, Princess Rhaenyra’s eyes narrowed in fury. “Daemon! We do not even know for certain if she is his daughter! And even if she is, we do not know if she is like him!”

He scoffed, “What would you have me do then?”

Rhaenyra scowled at the Prince, “What we came here to do. Be the Crown’s voice. She sent an envoy requesting sanctuary, not an envoy declaring her desire to conquer the Seven Kingdoms. Let us speak with her and find out what else she wants.”

“...And then?” He asked after a moment of consideration.

“And then.” The Lady Leana repeated, while looking at her husband coolly, “We bring her to King's Landing, or mayhaps Dragonstone. If she speaks true, she would have been born there. There would have been records of her birth, we can find the Maesters and midwives who witnessed the birth. We can find proof of her identity.”

“And if there is proof that she has not lied?”

The Princess looked at the Prince pointedly, “If she speaks true Uncle, she is our kin, no matter how distant. Would you curse yourself as a kinslayer?”

Prince Daemon did not reply.

“I thought not. If she is our kin, then why not integrate her into our House? You said it yourself, she already claims the name Targaryen. If we have proof, why would we not recognise her?”

The Prince sighed before replying, “And if we do not find proof?”.

“...You can see with your own eyes, husband. She has done something no-one else has ever done before, Trueborn or otherwise. Why make a dangerous enemy, when we can gain a powerful ally?” ,Lady Leana questioned.

The Prince tilted his head to the side, examining Dany like a predator would look for a weakness in prey, “If you are indeed his daughter, how do we know that you are not as mad as your father?”

Dany sighed, perhaps she was mad, she had been called it often enough especially in recent years. However, as far as she was aware it wasn’t the same type of madness her brother had, nor did she believe that it was the same type of madness her father supposedly had.
After all, could someone truly be called mad, if they were aware of their own madness?

“Are all children to be judged by the sins of their fathers, My Prince?”, his eyes furrowed with confusion. “If you must judge my character, I ask that you only do so based on my own actions, rather than the actions of those whose blood I share.”

“Do this and I will extend the same courtesy to you”, Dany declared, “Would that not be agreeable?”

The seconds stretched on as Prince Daemon continued to observe her, Dany made it a point to stare back completely unperturbed, she didn’t think either of them blinked during that time. Finally a smirk of amusement spread across the Prince’s face, as if he found something he was looking for, he broke eye contact first as he glanced down to sheathe his blade.

“Indeed it would”. He sounded quite high-spirited.

The Lady Leana and Princess Rhaenyra gave simultaneous side-long glances filled with exasperation and the plain desire to slap the Prince across the back of his head for his behaviour.

Dany made a note of that, before continuing.

 

She glanced over to her left and saw Mya watching the dragons in awe. Dany motioned for the little handmaiden to join her, she did so after being given a gentle shove forwards by one of Dany’s other handmaidens, who she believed was Mya’s older sister.

Mya carried a small platter, on top of which rested an offering of bread and salt. Dany had asked a great many questions to those of her people who hailed from Westeros about meetings and discussions that were held under a flag of parley, she was unsure if any customs from any of the regions of Essos would be appropriate.

Many admitted to not being familiar with the procedures nobles often performed when resolving a conflict amongst themselves, but they were all familiar with the ancient custom of guest rights. It was a sacred law of hospitality, invoked to ensure that neither guest nor host could bring harm to the other during the duration of the guest’s stay, lest they invoke the wrath of both gods and men upon them.

It had been generally agreed upon that a vow was often made to invoke guest rights and both bread and salt were the traditional provisions that were provided to be eaten ceremoniously. Upon seeing dragons emerging from the distant horizon, Dany had made sure to have an offering of bread and salt gathered and prepared for their potential guests.

Though the salt was coarse and the bread was little more than stale crackers, it technically matched the traditional provisions. Mya had slowed her walk as had gotten closer to all of the dragons, caution over taking awe. Dany kissed her son’s head before she extracted herself from Visenrion’s coiling grasp. As she walked over to greet the little handmaiden, she peeked over her shoulder while holding up her hand with an extended index finger, silently telling her son not to follow her. Judging by his dejected whine, he understood her message.

Mya’s eyes darted nervously towards the Westerosi envoy as she stopped in front of her. Dany gently rested her hand on the little girl’s shoulder causing Mya to look up into Dany’s face. She smiled kindly at Mya before whispering, “Well done, thank you for being so brave. Could you be brave for a little longer before going back to your sister?”

Though Mya was still clearly nervous, she smiled bashfully at Dany, her dimples on display as she nodded.

Dany turned back to her distant kin, who continued to stare at her, completely unabashed.

“Eat of my bread and salt, and be welcomed beneath my roof and by my table”, the sacred vow falling from her lips in a reverent manner.

This was not only an olive branch, but it was also a test.

If the offering was accepted and eaten, the Crown would be willing to negotiate, and would not be able to harm her or her people during the duration of their stay. If the offering was not accepted…she knew where the Crown stood.

Perhaps her distant kin thought the same or perhaps Dany had caught them off guard again. As for a long moment they simply stood and glanced between each other, the offering and Dany, with a long of amusement, surprise and a hint of what appeared to be pride.

Dany rolled her eyes discreetly before leaning over Mya to gather a small amount of salt onto a cracker. She made sure to maintain eye-contact with the other Dragonriders as she popped the small portion of food into her mouth, and ate it.

“It’s not poisoned, I promise.” Dany told them mirthfully, after she finished eating.

Princess Rhaenyra’s lips had twitched upwards into an small amused smile, she let out a chuckle under her breath as she walked towards Dany and Mya. Lady Leana, who was similarly amused by Dany’s display, gracefully joined the Princess’s side, while Prince Daemon swaggered alongside them.

Each of them gathered a small amount of salt and bread from the platter and swallowed it down, quickly, after realising the staleness of the crackers and coarseness of the salt. Though they hide it well, their expression’s proved that they were unused to such textures. Dany smiled apologetically, before dismissing Mya.

Mya whispered “Yes, your Grace”, while attempting to curtsey, before she scampered off to her sister.
Dany found the display to be endearing, as was Mya reuniting with her sister. Clinging to her skirts and whispering in hushed tones about all that she had accomplished while her sister stroked the top of Mya’s head and smiled indulgently down at her. It reminded Dany of how Ser William Darry used to look at her when she greeted him by wrapping her tiny arms around one of his legs.

She was so distracted by the display and the nostalgia she felt that she didn't realise that the smaller she-dragon had also followed Princess Rhaenyra steps. Dany only realised when the yellow dragon’s snout pressed up against the Princess’s back, causing her to stubble forwards, before she whipped around in surprise. As did the other dragon riders, apparently Dany’s kin had also been distracted, though by what she wasn’t sure.

In any case, it was rather impressive how distracted they all were, so much so that a dragon had successfully snuck up on them.

The Princess placed both gloved hands onto the she-dragon’s snout, leaning in close and murmuring against her scales “Dohaerās, Syrax. Lykirī. Lykirī.” (Serve, Syrax. Calm. Calm.)

Dany frowned at the command to serve, a dragon did not serve, for a dragon was no slave. Was it a command issued to ensure obedience? Or was it simply meant as a reminder to listen? Dany sincerely hoped that it was the latter rather than the former.

Her grievance was soon forgotten when she looked into the yellow dragon's eyes. Unlike any of her son’s, this dragon’s eyes were a deep almost emerald green, they looked enchanting and they stared directly at her.

Instinctively, Dany knew what to do, and she found that her body was already moving forward.

Princess Rhaenyra was distracted by her dragon, whilst the Prince and Lady’s attention was focused on slowly moving away, to give both dragon and rider ample space. As a result, none of them noticed Dany sneaking up behind them.

None of them noticed until Dany's hand hovered in-front of the dragon’s, Syrax’s, snout.

She heard gasps of surprise, though from who she couldn’t tell, as all of her attention was focused on the dragon in-front of her. She did not move her hand as Syrax breathed in her scent.
…And ever so slowly Syrax leaned her head forward slightly, so that Dany’s hand rested on her snout.
The she-dragon’s slitted eyes dilated and softened, and Syrax began to purr, louder as Dany stroked her hand across warm yellow scales.

Dany’s breath hitched and her eyes began to sting, her vision blurred as she attempted to hold back her tears, as she continued to tenderly stroke Syrax’s snout.
She looked up at the Princess, who gazed back with astonishment and amazement, her mouth was opening and closing, clearly wanting to say something but unable to find the words.

She glanced back at Syrax, “You are beautiful”, before she turned back to the Princess “She is beautiful.”
Dany’s voice wobbled, and despite her best efforts, she felt a single tear traverse down her cheek.

For how could she not cry? Under her hand was living proof that she had indeed been misplaced in time. Another time, another place, where dragons roamed the sky.

Her sons were not the last of their kind.
She was not the last of her kind.
How could she not cry at the joy of all that she had gained and the grief of all she had lost to gain it?

Her heart wept with abandon, but her eyes held back all bar one traitorous tear. She wanted to weep aloud at this very moment, but she must be strong for her people and give them the strength and courage they needed. So she resolved to cry aloud, in private, later.
She was the blood of the dragon. She must be strong. She must have fire in her eyes not tears.

Princess Rhaenyra looked at her with awe and surprise, but as she noticed the traitorous tear that crawled down Dany’s cheek, her expression changed. Dany had seen it before, when small children scraped their knees while playing and ran to their mother’s in tears. She had seen mother’s who had smiled tenderly at their children, before kissing their bruises and wiping away their tears.

Dany could not recall anyone who had ever looked at her like that, like how the Princess was looking at her now. She was unsure what to make of it.

The Princess had lowered one of her hands from Syrax snout and instead slowly reached for her face, as if Dany was an easily startled animal, and gently wiped the traitorous tear away with the back of one of her fingers.

It felt warm.

“My apologies, My Princess”, Dany ducked her head down as she rubbed her eyes and willed away any more tears before looking up again, “...I’ve never seen another dragon before.”

“...It’s quite alright, many are often overwhelmed by Syrax’s beauty.” The Princess said with a cheeky grin.
“Though…”, she side-eyed her dragon, before lowering her voice, as if whispering a forbidden secret, “Don’t let her know that, she is already very spoiled.”
She winked mischievously and Dany laughed.

Visenrion interrupted her laughter with his petulant grumbling, no doubt he was displeased that his mother’s attention had been stolen not only by a child but by another dragon as well.
“Don’t be jealous, My Sweet boy, you know how gorgeous you and your brothers are.”

She chuckled as Visenrion preened at her attention, showing off his own golden scales. Drogon, she was certain, gave her the equivalent of a blank look, and looked at her as if she had told him that the ocean was blue. Rhaegal let out a huff of irritation, already clearly aware of his obvious magnificence, but stood up straighter nonetheless.

She was slightly startled by other sounds of laughter joining her own. One of Lady Leana’s hands was pressed against her mouth to vainly quieten her delighted laughter, Prince Daemon gave a low chortle and the Princess did not even attempt to hide her mirthful grin.

“Now go”, Dany pointed with her head, “I know that you are all hungry, so why not show our guests the best spots to find something to eat?”

Syrax grumbled and nudged Dany slightly, irked at the notion that she needed help to find fish of all things.

“Oh, I know that you would be able to find your own food, My Lady Syrax. With beautiful eyes such as yours, you would be able to see many schools of fish from far away. And you looked as swift as the wind itself, when I saw you flying earlier.” Syrax perked up, pleased with the praise that was given and that she deserved.
“I just thought that if I am to spend time with your rider, perhaps you might spend some time with my sons?”

 

At this suggestion, Syrax and her son’s looked at each other.
Syrax and her children looked at one another, their eyes did not hold any hostility nor any reluctance, rather there seemed to be an air of playful challenge. Who could fly the fastest? Who could find the most fish? Or the most delicious one at that?
Her children had only ever had her and each other to play with, now that a possible new playmate was in-front of them, they could not hide their eagerness.

Dany turned to each of her sons and made sure to look each of them in the eye, “Play nice. Try not to cause any mischief. I will see you later, I promise.”

Her sons let out a chorus of trills and growls in acknowledgement, before they turned their gazes back to Syrax. After a moment Drogon inclined his head to the side, gesturing for Syrax to follow him and his brothers.

Satisfied that they made an impression, Drogon levelled one final glare at each of her kin, before turning towards the empty stretch of beach. He led his brothers forward stomping on claws and legs, until his wings beat the sand into the air and he lept into the sky, taking flight once more.

Though Syrax’s emerald eyes followed her son, her feet and claws still touched the ground, as she turned towards the Princess.
Her arms were crossed, and one of her eyebrows was raised, unamused.
Syrax’s whining did nothing to dispel her unamused expression, so she took to gently nuzzling Rhaenyra instead.
The Princess sighed and muttered under her breath “And you wonder why I call you spoiled.”
Yet, she nuzzled her head back into her dragon, her serious expression melting away into a warm smile before gently pushing Syrax away.
“Go, my dear girl. We will fly again later.”
Syrax let out a shrill roar as she followed the footsteps of Dany’s children, she flapped her wings and surged into the sky, letting out a series of roars as she chased after Dany's children.

Her children roared melodiously in reply, though it was somewhat overshadowed by the high-pitched trills that the serpent-like dragon let out. Dany could see that his yellow eyes trailed after Syrax’s form, longingly. He bent his neck downwards and almost knocked the distracted Prince off of his feet, as the red dragon began to incessantly nudge his rider, demanding his attention.

Daemon’s gaze transitioned from incredulous to mildly irritated and confused as he turned around to look at his dragon.
“What is it, Caraxes?” ,he asked in a soothing tone.
The dragon merely glanced between the growing distant she-dragon and his rider, whining and crooning.

The Prince pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, while wordlessly gesturing with the other, for Caraxes to follow Syrax.
He muttered a few choice words under his breath, that would have had Dany covering Mya’s ears with her hands.
The blood-red dragon barely hesitated as he leaped into the sky with ease and began to chase after Syrax.

Dany turned her eyes towards the largest dragon, wondering if she would also join the others in the sky. The she-dragon’s eyes, one a burnt orange the other a milky grey, peered up at the sky for a moment. Before she let out a bellowing groan and laid her head back onto the sandy ground, perfectly content to rest where she was. Who was Dany to judge?

The Lady Leana at the very least did not appear to be worried about her dragon's lack of appetite, she smiled fondly as she shrugged her shoulders.
“She will take to the skies again in her own time.”

The relaxed tone of voice in which she spoke, told Dany that the she-dragons lack of appetite was not a cause for concern. However, she privately decided that if the large dragon did not eat within the next day or so, she would ask her sons to bring her some of the bigger fish that they had caught before, during their hunts.

Generally, her children did not like to share their food, with Dany being the exception to this rule. She was sure that if she made a competition out of it, they would be more eager to participate.
She hoped that it would not be considered rude, by either dragon or dragonrider.
But Dany had decided long ago that no person, or dragon, who was under her protection would hunger for food or thirst for water, if she had the means to provide for it.

 

“Very well.” Dany’s voice seemed to magnetise her distant kin, as they all looked at her with eyes full of intrigue.
It was strange, she was no stranger to being stared at, whether it was for her beauty or her supposed insanity. However, these gazes did not seem to assess her as one would a threat, nor did they have the calculating gleam many had when they sought to scheme and cause her downfall.
They looked at her, like a man dying of thirst would look at an oasis.
While it was strange, Dany did not feel uncomfortable or detect any ill intentions towards herself or her people, so she supposed she would ask at a later time. For now her people’s safety took precedence.

Dany smiled and gestured with her arm towards the long stretch of beach that would eventually lead to Dragon’s cove. “My Princess, My Prince, My Lady. Perhaps we might continue any negotiations aboard my ship? I imagine we have a great many things to discuss”.

Notes:

I may or may not have taken some inspiration from different scenes in HOTD and GOT for the meeting. Especially the dragons, how they landed and the vibe of the meeting. Guess if you can see which scenes I took inspiration from.

Also, you may have clocked the fact that Daenerys was not what the Targs were expecting.

The Targs: Receive a letter from the Lord of Estermont which pretty much says "I have received an envoy from Bloodstone proclaiming that all pirates have been defeated by someone called Stormborn, she has three dragons under her command and is requesting sanctuary" because the Lord only heard the phrase 'three dragons' before panicking and frantically writing a letter so he didn't hear the envoy say Dany's full name or her youth.

The Targs: Freaking out, expecting a Visenya like figure, probably a few Dragonseeds, with maybe three small dragons since all the hatched dragons are accounted for.

Dany: Hi! :D

The Targs: That's a child WTF??

Dany's dragons: Sup

The Targs: Those are not children WTF?!

The Targs: *Looking around for hidden cameras*

Dany: *Being Dany*

The Targs: "...It's free real estate"

Chapter 3: Dragon's Cove

Summary:

Daenerys travels back to Dragon's Cove with her kin, to start discussing pressing matters.

Also called:
Welcome to Dragon's Cove!
Don't mind the abundance of side characters that have been added, they have their reasons for being there I swear.

Notes:

No, this fic has not been abandoned!
I just have alot going on IRL and have been very busy.
I have also found that I prefer to upload at my own pace, so I don't have the extra stress about meeting a self-imposed deadline and I can avoid disappointing myself and others when I can't keep my promise.
Sorry, no regular upload schedule here folks.

Anyway, sorry about the wait, I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

They walked together along the length of the beach, back towards Dragon’s cove. Though they walk side-by-side, the groups have not merged together. Her people project an air of mistrust towards the Westerosi envoy, more specifically at Prince Daemon, who was subjected to frequent venomous glares and muttered curses. Not that he noticed or cared to notice.

He seemed more focused on Dany. They all were.
As she trekked up the beach she noticed out of the corner of her eye, that the other Valyrians did not follow behind her escort, as one would when being guided to another place. Rather they kept pace with Dany, and all the while continued to stare at her, completely unabashed.

Dany was used to being stared at.
She had been stared at for her uncommon Valyrian features, for being a child who clearly slept in alleyways, for being a Khaleesi, for being a woman who wore a crown and sat upon a throne. She had been stared at by those who had pitied her, by those who had hated her, by those who had desired her, and by those who had loved her.
Still there were few times she could recall being stared at, with the same intensity her kin’s eyes had.
It felt as if every breath she took was being observed, analysed and documented.

It did not feel like she was being looked upon as an afternoon’s amusement, like she had felt when she met the Pureborn in Qarth. Nor did it feel like the contemptuous gazes that the Great Masters of Meereen reserved for her, showering her with praise, only to scorn and plot against her when they thought she could not hear them.
And their eyes did not look at her as if she were a monster, that at times, she believed herself to be.

No, her kin’s eyes looked at her, like they would look upon a wonder of the world. Like a sight that they hadn’t seen, let alone heard of before in their lifetimes, causing them to frantically document every detail in case they never saw such a sight again.
It was how most people would look, when they gazed at her dragons.

Though Dany knew that no rider had ever flown two dragons, she thought that there might have been records from times long ago, that detailed riders who may have bonded with more than one dragon. Judging by her kin’s simmering disbelief, if any accounts did exist, the records were either very rare or simply lost to history.

She decided to let their staring go unacknowledged…at least for now.

 

Eventually the two groups neared the grand entrance to Dragon’s cove, if one could call it that. In front of the two groups was what looked to be a small mountain, though it could be mistaken for a cliff-face even with its slightly slanted walls. The moss-stained rockface, dotted with small patches of greenery, towered above them. Only a goat would be able to climb such a slope.

The entrance to Dragon’s cove was hidden amongst the rocky outcroppings of the small mountain. There was no grand archway carved with intricate patterns, dire warnings or portrayed stories which led into the cove. There were no banners of Targaryen heraldry that were proudly displayed along the walls or hung above the entrance. There was no imposing gate of solid oak and steel that barred the way into the cove. In truth, unless one knew where to look, the entrance could be easily passed over as nothing more than an opening for a small cave.
It was not.

The entrance seemed to be all but abandoned, if you ignored her entourage's recent footprints which would soon be wiped away by either the wind or the sea, as no guards were visibly guarding the entrance.

As she walked, Dany brought both of her hands up to her mouth, holding them in such a way that her lips pressed against a small gap between her thumbs. She blew into her hands twice, the noise sounded like the hooting of an owl.
It was the agreed upon signal.
Two long hoots signalled that she was not under duress, while three short hoots signalled her guards to be ready.
Dany had suggested the use of the signal to her soldiers, when a patrol schedule and guard posts had been established, as a way to tell friend from foe.
Those who were unaware of the signal, or used the signal that showed that they were in distress, would let her soldiers know to wait and strike from the shadows of the cave's entrance.

Perhaps it was overcautious, but considering the damage Dany had been able to do when she snuck into and around Dragon’s cove, she didn’t think it was out of the realm of possibility that someone else could repeat her actions.

The mystified glances Dany received from her guests, as she signalled the entrance guards, were transformed into looks of surprise and comprehension, once a few guards emerged from the shadows of the cave entrance to greet her.

 

The first few days of Dany’s rule mainly consisted of securing Dragon’s cove and logistical work. Dany firmly believed that far fewer people would aspire to be kings if they knew the amount of paperwork that the position involved. Regardless, she did not spend her time idle, while she awaited news of the Swift Eleni’s return, or lack thereof. Slavers she had discovered, often kept records of their purchases, with descriptions of their “products” and the reason for their purchase.

If one did not look too closely the ledgers could be mistaken for records of purchasing supplies rather than slaves. It sickened Dany to the point that she had nearly thrown the ledgers at the wall of her cabin in a rage when she first started to sort through them, and had almost caused her to cry as she realised that the names of the slaves had not been recorded at all. She made sure to ask for the names of her people, before she spoke with them. Though distasteful, the records did help Dany to understand her situation and the scale of the slavery operation that had taken place upon the Stepstones.

Dany’s people hailed from various lands, spoke numerous tongues, and prayed to a hundred different gods. They were all dissimilar in so many ways. This could be seen with her soldiers, some wore armour, while others sneered at the mere thought. Some preferred to fight with spears whilst others preferred blades or axes. A few bellowed a war cry as they charged their foe, while others marched forward silently, their silence hailing the deaths to come. Some had little to no training in warfare, but had chosen to take up arms and learn how to fight.

Regardless of their differences they were all warriors. Warriors who were no-longer enslaved and forced to fight at their master’s whim. Warriors who were free to choose who to take up arms with or against, and had chosen to follow her and fight for her.

When Dany had organised her soldiers into cohorts, she made sure that each cohort consisted of a mixture of different backgrounds and cultures. For each cohort she had instructed that they elect officers from amongst themselves, and the officers would then choose one amongst themselves as their leading officer. The leading officers of each cohort would then choose one amongst their ranks to serve as the captain of the entire company.

Her people were not unsullied, some knew how to fight but not how to lead, while others knew how to lead but were not well versed in strategy. A few times Dany’s soldiers had not been able to choose between candidates and had asked for her thoughts. She had asked for the officers to come before her so that she might listen and learn, before reaching a decision. Eventually, each cohort had its officers and each company had a captain.

 

The Ashborn were led by Ser Davos, who while honoured, had initially tried to reject the position. At the time Dany had been confused. Ser Davos was well liked by his peers, had experience in battle, a decent mind for strategy and upheld the oaths of knighthood to the best of his ability. Dany could not think of a reason as to why he would reject the position, so she had asked him. Dany had told the knight that he could speak his reasons freely and that if he truly did not want the position, she would not force it upon him.

The knight had stood before her silent, before bowing his head in embarrassment as he explained. He confessed that while he was indeed a knight, he was a hedge knight. A knight without a master, who had wandered the length and breadth of the seven kingdoms in hopes of making a name for himself and earning a knighthood. Eventually, he had been knighted by the Lord of House Dondarrion of Blackhaven after he had fought bravely in the Dornish Marches. Though he had continued to serve under House Dondarrion, he was not a landed knight nor a household knight, a ‘proper knight’ so to speak. And he knew that there were worthier knights than him in the world.

Dany decidedly disagreed.
She may not have known the knight for very long, but she knew that he was a brave and just man who had fought to protect the innocent and those who could not defend themselves.
If that was not the very epitome of what a true and worthy knight should be, what was?

Ser Davos’s ears had flushed red at the praise, but his dark blue eyes still did not meet hers, unfinished with his explanation. He confessed that while his name was indeed Davos, it was not his full name. The knight had proceeded to apologise for deceiving her, but said that he could not accept the position as he would only bring shame upon her.
For who could be nought but embarrassed,allies and enemies alike, for having a ‘Storm’ as a captain?

While Dany was not overtly familiar with the name of the Houses of Westeros, not even during her own time, she did not think Ser Davos was speaking of such.
If he was the son of a member of a noble house, even a disgraced one, he would likely have been made a household knight rather than traveling as a hedge knight in search of opportunities.
His clothes also did not indicate that he was part of a noble house, which while cared for were clearly well worn. His shoes especially, clothes may be easy to replace and repair, but a good pair of shoes that fit well were hard to find. Even a disgraced and poor noble would be able to afford new shoes. So if his name did not mean he was part of a noble house, what could it mean?
Was it a sort of sobriquet? Not unlike her own?
Though she had quickly discarded the thought.
The sobriquet ‘Stormborn’ did not bring her shame, unlike the knight who had stood before her.
Rather he spoke it, as if it were a name given to a monster instead of a man.

Dany tried to remember any mention of such a name, or any other names that were similar. Until a thought came to her.
She remembered a story that her brother had once taught her, about another civil war that had taken place after the last of the dragons had died.
The Blackfyre rebellion.
Viserys had told her the story of the traitorous upstart Daemon Blackfyre, originally Dameon Waters, who was the natural born son of King Aegon, though she wasn’t completely sure which King Aegon it was. Regardless, though he had taken the name Blackfyre upon being knighted, his birth name had been Waters.
Apparently it was custom to give the name ‘Waters’ to natural born children who were born in the same region as King’s landing rather than giving them their father’s or mother’s family name.
Was this perhaps a similar case?
But instead of ‘Waters’, Ser Davos had been given the name ‘Storm’? Perhaps for a different region of Westeros?
She decided to ask.

If it were possible, the knight had hung his head down in even more shame and confirmed her query.
The knight had explained that It was apparently a custom in the Seven kingdoms, to give certain surnames to bastard children, depending on which region they were born in.
Waters for the Crownlands, Rivers for the Riverlands and Hill for the Westerlands. Stone for the Vale, Snow for the North and Sand for Dorne. Pyke was for the Iron Islands and Flowers was for the Reach. And Storm was for the Stormlands.

When Dany had asked the knight why such a custom was in place, he lifted his gaze from the ground just enough so that she could see his eyes beneath his copper hair and said in a somber tone “So that everyone knows that we were born from lust, lies and weakness. Since bastards such as I were born from such sin, we are said to be wanton and treacherous by nature. The names that bastards are given are to separate the wheat from the chaff, your grace.”

At first Dany was confused.
In Essos, while the concept of bastardry did exist, the attitudes pertaining to it varied depending on the region and culture.

The leaders of the Ghiscari slave cities and some free cities such as Volantis and Lys, often put much more focus on their noble lineage. As only nobles were eligible for prestigious positions such as Magisters, and other prestigious ruling positions. In such cultures, Trueborn children took precedence over natural born children, as families wanted to prioritise legacy and their position in court. It was not to say that children born outside of marriage were unexpected, mayhaps frowned upon if there was reason to suspect a threat to an inheritance or prestige, but Natural born children were definitely not as reviled as they clearly were in Westeros.

Other cultures cared little and less about lineage.
Dany knew that the Dothraki cared little about the circumstances of one's birth, if you could ride and fight well, what else mattered?
She did not know if her bloodriders; Aggo, Jhojo, and Rakharo, were Trueborn or not. Nor her handmaidens Irri and Jhiqui.
Dany hadn’t thought to ask, perhaps that was somewhat callous of her, but she did not care.
It would not change the fact that they were a part of her Khalasar, and it would not change the fact that they were all dear to her.

Dany also knew that the Braavosi also cared very little about bastardry, an attitude that had been imparted on her during her childhood there.
In fact many Bravossi had taken to proudly naming themselves as bastards, whether they were natural born or not. Like Mero the former captain of the Second Sons, who had proudly proclaimed himself as the Titan's bastard.

Of course there were other places she was less sure of, but Dany knew that natural born children in Essos were not seen as…lesser than true born children.

An attitude that Dany felt disgusted by, as she was by the common custom of giving natural born children distinct names at birth.
The Westerosi practice reminded her of the good masters in Astapor, who gave the unsullied new names every day, to remind them of the fact that they were no more than vermin.
The only difference was that Westeros had no slaves to give such names to.

Why?
Why subject someone to such pointless cruelty?
Why would they condemn a child for being born?

Dany had told the knight that she would accept his rejection, while ensuring he maintained his position as an officer in the Ashborn if he listened to a story and answered a riddle.
The knight, though bewildered, agreed.

She told a story of a young girl who travelled about the world, trying to find a home for herself and the people who followed her.
She was accompanied by two knights, who were as different as the sun and the moon.
One knight, an old man with hair that had whitened with age, was as bold as he was old. He was strong and skilled. And he was gallant and dutiful. Though he made mistakes and had lied to the young girl he was serving at one point about his origins, he did his best to uphold his oaths and protect the innocent.
The other knight was younger than the old knight, balding and burly. He was strong and brave as well. And he too had acted gallantly and dutifully. He was one of the girl’s most fierce protectors and loyal friends, or so she had thought. For she learnt that the knight had at one point betrayed her, and though sorrowful he only spoke of excuses and his lust and love for the girl, instead of claiming responsibility for his actions.

Ser Davos listened quietly, though his confusion was still evident on his face, which only grew when Dany spoke her riddle aloud.
Which of the knights was trueborn?

His mouth opened and closed a few times, before lipping his lips and tentatively answering that surely the old knight was true born, whilst the younger was bastard-born.
Dany merely smiled slightly and shook her head, declaring that he was wrong.
Both of the knights were trueborn.

Ser Davos had gaped at her, claiming that he didn’t understand.
Dany had moved closer to the knight to hold one of his large hands with both of her own as she continued.
Both knights had been with utmost certainty trueborn, and yet only one of them had acted as a true knight, whilst the other had been lustful and treacherous.
Being a trueborn knight did not make the younger knight just and true, just as being a natural born knight did not make Ser Davos lustful and treacherous.

And if there were children in this world, who were born from sin, and thus were inherently sinful.
Did that not make herself sinful?
Though her parents were married, her father had supposedly been mad, he had inflicted cruelty upon others.
If such acts did take place, then he was surely regarded as a sinful person, was he not?
Did that not mean that his sins had passed onto her, when she had been born?

Ser Davos had vehemently denied this.
No! Of Course not! She was a babe not yet born! He was a man fully grown!
His sins, if he had any, had been his own and were not hers to carry!
She had been but an innocent babe.
She-! She…

The knight's passionate defense of her character had tapered off, when he had noticed that she was grinning.
He had not understood why she had been smiling, until Dany had started to explain the conclusions that the knight himself had drawn, or was at the least beginning to.
A knight had been trueborn, yet he had been wanton and treacherous.
An unborn child was not sinful, even though the child’s parents might have been.
And a person’s sins were only the result of their own actions, not the actions of others nor being born.

Did this not mean that perhaps the circumstances of one’s birth did not necessarily reflect one’s character?
That Ser Davos Storm was a good and just knight, not despite or because of the circumstances of his birth, but because he chose to be?
With all of this, how could Ser Davos say that he was an unworthy knight, let alone an unworthy person?

He had needed a long moment after that, having needed to sit down and digest their conversation.

While she waited, Dany remembered Astapor.
The day she went to meet the good masters at the plaza of punishment, with all the unsullied, she passed by a river the Astapori called ‘The worm’. It was a wide and slow river, dotted with tiny islands.
She had seen children playing on them, and had been unable to tell which had been slaves and which had been free.
If she ever saw a similar sight in Westeros, she would be unable to tell which children were trueborn and which were natural born.
The same could be said for anyone who looked upon such a sight.
They would only see the same thing as her.
Children.

The knight had eventually asked, in a croaky voice, what she would have of him?
Dany had only asked that he take pride in his name.
He was Ser Davos Storm, a true knight, who served under Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen.
Ser Davos Storm did not cry, but he had been moved.
He decided to accept the captainship of the Ashborn.
He even started to refer to himself by his full name around others.
She was glad that he was beginning to take pride in his name, not letting it define his worth as a knight and as a person.

 

The other captain’s were comparatively easier to appoint, yet had their own problems.
The Brothers of Blood, the second of the companies formed under Dany’s command, had taken longer to choose a captain to lead them.
Eventually the officers begrudgingly decided to appoint Ser Wyland, a dornish knight, as captain of the Brothers of Blood.

Ser Wyland, was a man younger than Ser Davos Storm, but was twice his size.
Though not as outwardly warm as Ser Davos, he was by no means standoffish, in fact he was quite cordial to everyone he met. He was just quiet and more introspective than others. Apparently his mysterious demeanour alongside his black curls and dark eyes, had drawn many an eye, judging by many a giggling maiden and a few slack jawed boys. He also knew how to read and write, claiming that he learned his numbers and letters from an old man who once taught the children of a local lord.

He too had experience in battle, gained while fighting in the Dornish Marches, where he earned his knighthood.
That had been an…interesting conversation.
Ser Wyland had been knighted by the Lord of House Yronwood, a well known Dornish House, for the bravery he displayed in battle. House Yronwood held the title of Wardens of the Stone Way, which gave them military seniority over other local lords in the defense of the Stone Way, often referred to as the Boneway, a treacherous pass that ran through the Red Mountains that connected Dorne to the Stormlands.
After his knighthood, Ser Wyland had served under House Yronwood, fighting in the Dornish Marches and defending the Boneway pass, and subsequently Dorne, from raiders from the Stormlands.
Raiders such as Ser Davos Storm.

If there was such a thing as fate, it had a terrible sense of humour.
Dany had questioned Ser Davos on the validity of this story, to which he claimed that while he had fought in the Dornish Marches and along the Boneway, it was to defend the Stormlands, and the Stormlands side of the Boneway pass from Dornish raiders.
Raiders such as Ser Wyland.

Both sides claimed that they were defending themselves from the other, while also claiming that the opposite side had struck first.
When Dany had asked if they actually knew of the incident that had caused the first blood to be spilt, or knew who had been involved, or how long ago the first incident was, both men had been unable to answer.
Apparently, the outbursts of fighting had been going on for so long that neither side could remember precisely why they began to fight each other in the first place.

It was due to this conflict that both knights had been captured by pirates.
The knights, and their respective parties, had come across one another in the Bonepass and had come to blows.
As the battle raged on and on, many more soldiers on either side became weaker, tired or injured.
That was when the pirates struck.
Neither party had realised that they were reinforcements until it was too late and they had either been captured or killed.
Apparently the pirates had realised that many able bodied men ventured into the Bonepass only to disappear, and the desert only occasionally coughed up their bones.
They decided to capitalise on that.
Capturing and enslaving injured and exhausted soldiers, and killing those who were too grievously wounded, leaving no survivors.
The slaves were then loaded upon a ship or two that waited in the River Wyl that led straight to the Dornish Sea, which slipped away in the dead of night and made for the Stepstones.

If either a Stormlander or Dornish party stumbled across the corpses of the soldiers, they would correctly assume that a battle had taken place there, while incorrectly assuming that the other side had won.
The corpses that were missing could be explained away in any number of plausible ways; desertion, mutiny, capture, torture, injured and in hiding or executed at another location.
Since neither side really spoke to one another, except to engage in hostilities, the pirates were free to come and go as they pleased.
With Dorne and the Stormlands being none the wiser.
Ser Davos and Ser Wyland had pieced it together during the long voyage from the River Wyl to the isle of Bloodstone, after they stopped trying to strangle each other with their chains.
Apparently when they weren’t trying to kill each other, they could hold civil conversations with one another, who knew?

It was also clear that they hated the pirates that took them and the slavers that they were to be sold to, far more than they hated each other.
And had agreed to a temporary truce to focus on survival and possible escape.
The hostility had lessened by the time Dany had arrived and helped to free them.
Both had killed friends of the other, but both had also suffered at the hands of the same tormentors and had agreed to serve the same Queen.
Both had made it clear to Dany that while they would never be friends, that did not make them enemies.
They begrudgingly respected each other, and while they would never forget the pain the other caused, mayhaps one day they could forgive and swore an oath upon their honour as knights that they would not allow their…disagreements to reflect poorly upon her.
She agreed, but gave a warning that she would be keeping an eye on both of them.

If only, others were as mature or forward thinking.
For while some who hailed from the Stormlands and Dorne had followed the knights example, others were…more vocal of their disapproval.

One such example had been a group of Stormlanders who openly expressed their distaste for the Dornish Captain, claiming that Ser Wyland was ill suited for both his role as a Captain and as a knight. They had sneered at nearly every aspect of the Dornish knight, from his quiet nature to his unknown lineage. There was, however, one such characteristic of Ser Wyland, that the Stormlanders all but openly mocked. As while they had not taken issue with his skill at arms but rather, the fact that he lacked one.

Ser Wyland's left arm was missing from below his elbow.

It was not a wound sustained in battle nor was it an injury gained during his youth or while he was a squire. Ser Wyland had simply been born in such a way and had worked twice as hard to become a knight, despite others claiming that his “condition” made him ill-suited.

While he was unable to use two handed weapons such as great swords, he had trained to proficiently wield one handed weapons, while learning how to attach and wield a shield on his left forearm.
He had relentlessly learned and trained his body to be able to use different weapons and to adapt to different fighting styles, to great effect.
His efforts were fruitful as he had been the first among his peers to be knighted.

Unfortunately this meant that he was used to similar mockery and “helpful advice” that the Stormland soldiers had subjected him to, as well as the constant questioning of his suitability as a warrior.

Dany had asked Ser Wyland if he had been willing to prove his suitability, with a…small demonstration.
He agreed.

She had many of her soldiers gather around an area of the beach in Dragon's cove, under the pretense of discussing the suitability of Ser Wyland.
There was no discussion.
There was no question of suitability.
No words needed to be spoken by Dany or See Wyland, as with one sweep of his double bladed battle axe, he cleaved a thick wooden beam in two.
The comments stopped after that.

Dany had seen a much more violent demonstration of his strength while she had been helping to free the slaves from their bondage.
He had used the same axe, to bisect a pirate from head to loins.

The men who had been mocking the Captain had turned ashen after the demonstration and did not protest while they were publicly disciplined.
The lesson was learned.
Ser Wyland was to remain the captain of the Brothers of Blood.

 

Appointing a captain for the third company under Dany’s command, the Shadow’s Flame, was arguably the most difficult and yet the easiest.
At the time, the officers could not decide as to who they should choose to be captain, from amongst themselves.
As there was no clear majority, the officers who were interested in the position had originally planned to ask Dany to choose who should lead the Shadow’s Flame.
That had been the plan.
Until one particular officer stepped forward to express interest in the position.
Almost all of the other officers who had been present at the time had either laughed, not taking the declaration seriously or thought that there were other officers who were more…suitable.
The reason was the same.
The officer who had stepped forward had been a woman.

The woman in question, claimed her name was Frewa.
Just Frewa.
In her own words, she didn’t have any fancy names or titles as she was no southern lady or knight in shiny armour.

She was young, twice Dany’s current age, perhaps a little older.
Yet she already had a small following, composed of people who wore all manner of furs, similar to her own.
Though due to the heat, many had been forced to shed them.
It was reasonable to assume that all of them had come from the same place, but as to where, Dany was not sure.
The group had been rather vague about their origins, only that they were from a place far north of the Stepstones.
Dany had heard a few people speculate that the group were from Skargos, due to the furs they wore and the coarse and harsh tongue they sometimes spoke in, one that Dany had never heard of before.
It sounded like something…ancient.

Though Dany could not say for certain where they were from, she did believe that they were from a place far north of Bloodstone isle, perhaps from the North itself.
For while they spoke their ancient mother tongue they spoke the common tongue as well.
The accent they spoke in was similar to that of Ser Jorah Mormont.
When Dany had asked if the group were from the North, Frewa’s followers had looked at her to answer.
The warrior woman had confirmed that her and her followers were from the North, though they had never heard of Bear island nor Winterfell.
Dany thought it was strange, but decided to stay quiet and observe.

Most of the officer’s of the Shadow’s Flame who had taken a glance at the warrior woman, who was at least a head shorter than them all, with long black hair and green eyes, and saw no threat let alone competition.
They were quickly proven wrong.

According to several eyewitnesses who recounted the event, the warrior woman had waited until the last of the laughter had died before pointing her spear at her fellow officers and challenging every single one to a fight.
The conditions of the challenge were simple, if she won they would follow her.
If she was defeated, she would follow whoever defeated her.
Frewa claimed to only follow strength and if someone was indeed strong enough to defeat her, they would have to prove themselves.
She gave her word that if she was defeated, she would follow the victor without question.
And she swore this vow upon the Old Gods, which apparently earned her some angry stares, but proved her sincerity.

When Frewa had herself retold this part, Dany asked if she had to prove her strength to the warrior woman as well.
Frewa laughed and claimed she already had.
In her own words Dany must be strong, otherwise her three flying beasts would not listen to her, otherwise she would not have survived being bathed in flames, otherwise she would have died a long time ago.
The warrior woman proclaimed that while she wasn’t a kneeler, as Dany had proven herself, Frewa would follow her.
Dany accepted her declaration, though made sure to remember to never show an inch of weakness around the warrior woman.

In any case, one-by-one each officer fought against Frewa.
And one-by-one they fell.
Through a combination of skill, speed and cunning.
The warrior woman defeated each and every opponent sent against her.

A few tried to issue another challenge, arguing that she had fought dishonourably through acts such as; throwing sand in her opponents eyes, waiting in ambush behind different surroundings or throwing a knife at her opponent.
Dany disagreed and had made her opinion known.
Not all victories could be won with strength at arms, oftentimes a keen mind could turn the tide of battle.
She knew this from personal experience.
Mayhaps the warrior woman’s actions were dishonourable, but what opponent would ‘play fair’ on the battlefield?

Even so, Frewa offered to rechallenge her fellow officers, if they still wanted to fight her again.
They declined, some more vehemently than others.
Regardless, the warrior woman had earned the respect of her fellow officers, and not one of them objected to her captainship.

Thus, Dany had three companies under her command, three thousand strong.
Less than the number of soldiers and guards she had in Mereen, but a formidable force nonetheless.

 

Dany knew that such a diverse mixture of people could result in many of her soldiers only working with others with similar backgrounds, which could cause in-fighting between cohorts. However she also knew from experience that many warriors loved to tell stories of their valour and victories. Boasting and bragging amongst each other, listening and cheering as other tales were told, whilst comparing battle scars. She knew this was true for many warriors across many lands and Dany knew that nothing grew a warrior’s comradery, like listening to a good story.

It had worked quite brilliantly, which had prompted those who were not warriors to follow suit, working alongside and conversing with those who were different from themselves. It wasn’t perfect by any means, languages could be a barrier at times and there were still disputes that were brought to Dany to resolve, when she held court. However, despite that, there was a sense of community amongst her people, all of them working together and reminding themselves what it meant to be freemen.

 

“Is such a farce truly necessary?”, Prince Daemon questioned, as they awaited the guards' approach.

Dany glanced up at him, “Tell me My Prince. When you prepare for battle do you only hope for the best or do you prepare for the worst?”

“Both.” He smirked faintly amused, “But there is no battle being fought here.”

Dany did not smile nor break eye contact with him, “Yet.”

He raised an eyebrow at her as he hummed lowly.

Dany raised an eyebrow back. The Prince let out a huff of laughter and raised his hands in mock surrender, before turning his attention back to the approaching guards.

Unlike Prince Daemon, Princess Rhaenyra and Lady Leana looked concerned and a touch horrified at Dany’s explanation.
Dany paused for a moment, before she gave them a small smile while shrugging her shoulders.
The concerned looks did not dissipate.
Dany turned her attention to the guards. Though she did not know all of her people’s names or know all of their stories, she tried to listen and remember all that she could.

One of the first guards to greet her was a former pit fighter, who had been bought and sold so many times across the free cities that she no longer remembered where she originated from. Tirola, Dany believed her name was. She had fought in many arenas, earning her masters coin and glory. She thumped a hand over her heart in greeting, “Your Grace”.

Another of the guards was a dothraki warrior, Dany did not know his name nor his story for he would not speak of it. Though she gathered from his short hair and lack of braids, that he had been defeated in battle and was shamed and sold, instead of killed. He nodded his head in respect as he greeted her, “Khalessi”.

The third guard was a former slave soldier, his head shaved bare, he bowed slightly as he almost whispered his greeting. Dany did not know his name, she was uncertain if he had one, she hoped that if he did not have a name he chose one in which he could take pride in. Dany was unfamiliar with his story as well, for he spoke the tongue of Norvos, a language which Dany lacked familiarity with, though she resolved to learn it. She had asked others who spoke his tongue to teach her what they could, and had come to learn that the word he used to address her meant, “Mother”.

She had not known whether to laugh or cry when she had first learnt the meaning of the word, for he was not alone in referring to her as such. Others referred to her similarly in their own Mother Tongues.
She had hoped that one person might call out “Myhsa”, but her hope was in vain.
She supposed only the people of Slaver's bay would call her such, and Slaver's bay was far away from here.
Yet even so, she was called “Mother”.
Her people here were her children, but she had left her other children behind.
How could the Gods be so kind and yet so cruel?

 

The two groups followed the guards to the mouth of the cave, the entrance was not so narrow that everyone would have to pass through one at a time, but it was clear that no more than three people could walk side-by-side without scraping themselves against the cool stone walls.

The three guards went first leading the way for others to follow, judging by the height of the sun it was around the time for the changing of the guard, this would likely be their last duty of the day before they had some well deserved rest.

They journeyed deeper and deeper into the cave, all of their footsteps sounded like a symphony of drums that echoed off of the surrounding walls. Though the cave grew darker and darker the further they journeyed, Dany could still see the lengths of wooden bracing overhead that was joined to wooden supports on both walls of the cave, an attempt to guarantee the stability of the cave’s ceiling. An unlit torch was mounted into the side of one of the supports, a pattern which continued every so often.

There had once been a burning brazier that had lit most of the cave but it had since been moved outside. Dany had followed the burning brazier's light and found the entrance to Dragon’s cove, which she later used to sneak inside. Thus, she had ordered for the brazier to be removed and asked her guards to only use torches when they were posted at the cave entrance, since they gave off less light and could be extinguished quickly.

Eventually, she could see a pin-prick of light in the distance, which grew larger and brighter with every step she took. Her eyes squinted to adjust as both groups reached the source of the light and emerged from the cave, outside.

If the entrance to Dragon’s cove looked all but abandoned, the exit was the stark opposite.

 

Dragon’s cove contained a large pale cream beach that covered the entire area, it was enclosed by large dark rocky walls on three sides, while the fourth side was open to the sea, the blue-green water lapped gently against the shore.

Though the walls were dark stone, faint scorch marks could still be seen, etched into the rock. The remnants of dragonfire were not so easily concealed. The same could be said for some areas of the beach. Though wind, rain and footsteps had continuously displaced the sand, it was still clear where dragonfire had burned the longest or where the most blood had been shed.

A few cavern entrances dotted the tall walls that enclosed Dragon’s cove. Most of which had been converted into make-shift store rooms and shelters, either by Dany’s people or by one of the isle’s previous occupants, since the caverns did not extend to the other side of the small mountain. Dany had decreed that although there would be regular patrols, these caverns would not be guarded as strictly as the caves which connected the main beach to the cove.

Only two caves needed guarding, the one that she had used to sneak into Dragon’s cove and the one, opposite from where she was standing, that the pirates attempted to escape through. It was discovered that at low-tide, a section of the cave became accessible to those who wished to enter or exit Dragon’s cove.

As it was the largest entrance, Dany had more guard’s stationed there, especially at low tide. Though it was not to say that the smaller passageway was under defended or understaffed, as if any wayward slaver managed to defeat the guards at the entrance, they would also have to engage with many more guards at the exit.

Carved into the stone surface which stood opposite the sea, was a long staircase. The weathered steps ran from the sandy beach up to the top of the tall walls. Though she could not see it, Dany knew that atop the wall was a small world of paradise. The steep and mossy stone walls of the small mountain hid the beauty of its summit. Atop the small mountain was a large, somewhat flat area of lush green grass. If you listened quietly enough you could hear the trickle of a small spring which had formed atop the mountain, the water flowed off the side of the cliff-face creating a small waterfall.

Laying down atop the grass, underneath the bright sun, with the cool sea breeze and looking out at the open ocean, made Dany feel small and free. Dany loved it. Her dragons loved it as well, at times napping with their mother, for a short while before she returned to her duties.

The staircase was also strategic, access to higher ground had compelled Dany to set up watchtowers, and guard patrols atop the high walls. If any masters tried to engage Dragon’s cove in a full frontal assault, by trying to enter or block the ocean entrance of the cove, dragonfire and arrows would rain down upon them and the wise masters would prove themselves to be very unwise after all.

A large port had been constructed in the cove, with many wooden walkways interconnecting each other to create pathways towards the many ships that were currently docked and the many that were anchored in open water. Dromonds and Carracks, Galleys and Cogs, Longships and Swanships and many more. The cove could house many ships, and since the Stepstones were a very popular haunt for pirates and a place that slavers frequently traded with, there were many ships that had undergone new ownership. In fact, discounting the “Swift Elenai” and the tiny boats used for fishing, there were currently fifty-four ships in the cove’s waters. Enough ships to transport every single person and piece of cargo beyond the narrow sea, if they desired.

 

And there were many, many people for the ships to transport.
The entire cove was bursting with life.
Children ran about the beach, playfully chasing others, their laughter filling the air.
Some warriors were sparring with each other, metal and wood clashing against each other, while other warriors stood to the side and bet who the winner of the bout would be.
She could see small clusters of guards who weaved about the crowds of people, patrolling the beaches before moving to other posts.
In the distance Dany could make out the silhouettes of sailors who were climbing the rigging of different ships, which swayed slightly in the wind.
She could smell the fish that was being unloaded from barrels or from small fishing boats, no doubt being prepared for a large supper.
And many more people who went about their day.

Dany smiled as she strolled forward from the cave, towards the port. As she passed by, many stopped what they were doing to greet her. Voices called out to her, in a babble of tongues, with different names. Others reached out to touch her arms or hands as she passed by, either to pray for their gods to bless her, or to ask for her to bless them. Dany was not a god, she could not give her people boons or good fortune, nor could she guarantee their safety or their health. But if it helped to give her people courage and hope for the morrow and every morrow thereafter, then she did not mind the hands that reached out towards her. Dany smiled softly at each of them in-turn, and though a small crowd formed, they did not block her passage.

A group of children slipped between those who formed the small crowd, and raced towards her. Their faces were alight with laughter as they gathered around her, jostling each other to greet her. She laughed in-turn, smiling as she ruffled the hair of some of the children and wiped off sand that was stuck to the cheeks of others. Dany was glad that they could now laugh and play as they pleased as children should, living free and content. A child’s laugh was one of the most beautiful sounds in the world, it brought her a sense of happiness that she could hear it.

She glanced back at her escort and her guests to make sure that the crowd hadn’t swallowed them up. Her entourage was attempting to gently push the crowd back, to give themselves room to continue escorting her. Her kin looked…overwhelmed, glancing between Dany and her people, looking somewhat stupefied.

Princess Rhaenyra's head swivelled around, wide-eyed. “Have either of you ever seen such a sight before?”
Prince Daemon looked around, perplexed, and didn’t answer .
Lady Leana swallowed before answering faintly, “No. For, I would never have forgotten such a sight.”
Dany supposed that they might not have been expecting the enthusiasm.

Little by little, Dany’s entourage and the Westerosi envoy made their way to the start of the docks. Dany noticed that while her people didn’t necessarily scowl at her kin, many did not smile upon them. Most looked like they were not sure what to make of her kin, and even those who hailed from Westeros, looked upon them with more curiosity and confusion than delight.

Eventually the two groups passed by the small crowd of people, as they eventually dispersed to resume their previous tasks and prepare for supper.
Well, all except for the children.
A few of the youngest were practically clinging to Dany, whining, asking to stay with her just a little longer.
Asking to play with her, or for her to read to them, or to tell them stories.

Dany chuckled fondly, “Another time, I promise you. Now run along, supper should be served soon. Wash your hands before you eat.”

They moaned and grumbled, but acquiesced.
“Yes, mother”, the children groaned in reply, each in their own mother tongue.
Each member of her kin, snapped their heads between Dany and the children, multiple times after hearing the reply spoken in the common tongue.
Questions danced about in each of their eyes.
Dany winked, before she turned around and strode onto the docks, a spring in her step.
After a brief pause, rapid footsteps followed behind Dany, before they slowed, as her kin kept pace with her.

The two groups wandered further and further away from the shoreline, the wooden planks creaked underneath their feet, as the water lapped at the wooden stilts that held up the walkways. They passed by many ships with sailors that climbed about the rigging, deckhands moving chests of cargo back and forth while scribes documented their findings. The air was filled with the shouts of instructions and orders, eager to finish their tasks, so that they could enjoy supper. Every so often, someone would spot Dany and wave at her, as she waved in return. Eventually, both groups came to a pause in front of a fairly large Carrack.

Three large masts protruded from the deck, interconnected together with square rigging, which reefed the dark sails, as the ship was at anchor. A flag atop the crow’s nest, the same colour as the sails, flapped erratically about in the wind. With the sails reefed Dany could imagine that they were hiding a red-three headed dragon, that would breathe fire when unfurled, alas they had neither the time nor the resources to create such a subtle display.

Dany eagerly climbed aboard, her body adjusting to the subtle sway of the ship with ease. She grinned and waved at the sailors on the deck and those who clambered about in the rigging. Gradually her guests and her escort boarded the ship, some with more grace than others. Lady Leana climbed aboard with impeccable balance, so used to the sway of a ship, that she might have lived on one all of her life. Her companions were less elegant as they subtly stumbled aboard the ship, and through will alone, forced themselves to appear stable and at ease. They were clearly less used to the sea, though thankfully neither of them, nor their guards, appeared to be greensick.

Dany spread her arms slightly, “My Princess, My Prince, My Lady. Welcome aboard the Missandei.”

“The Missandei?” Lady Leana questioned, but the soft look in her eyes told Dany that she had an idea of the significance behind the ship’s name.

The ship's former owner was none other than the pirate who had put a knife to Dany's throat, as he was...unavailable, ownership of the vessel fell to Dany. When Dany had claimed the ship, she thought for a while, as to what she should name it. For some time she had considered the name ‘Balerion’ so that people, those who were her’s and those who were not, would know that the dragon was here. But she had already named a ship after Aegon the conqueror’s dragon, a ship which had helped her break down the gates of Mereen, and free those who were shackled inside. So instead she chose to name her ship after the former slave-girl, who was brave and sweet and wise and free.
Her friend.
Missandei.

“...After a dear friend.”, she smiled but she knew that it was probably tinged with sadness, Dany shook her head slightly before her sadness could consume her.

Dany gestured to the stern of the ship, “Come, let us speak more in my quarters, I am sure you must be eager to sit down and rest after your journey.”

Her words were taken as a signal, by her entourage, to disperse and go about their duties. Her handmaids bowed before they spread about the ship, to collect refreshments or to finish uncompleted chores. Little Mya bowed clumsily before she half-dashed to her waiting sister, who took them both below deck. Her guards split apart but positioned themselves at key points, both on and off the “Missandei”, always within ear-shot should she need assistance. Five guards, including Davos, still stood with her as she made her way to the door of her cabin.

 

The cabin of the “Missandei”, was quite large and well furnished. The light that shone through the stained windows at the stern of the ship illuminated several furnishings. A wooden queen-sized bed was positioned atop a dark-red Myrish carpet, at the back of the cabin. No curtains wrapped around its frame, but privacy could be afforded, as curtains were tied to support posts that separated the cabin in half.

A cushioned chaise leaned against the cabin wall opposite the bed, atop which lay a few books that Dany had taken to reading before she slept. A writing desk with drawers stood to her left as she entered the cabin. Its surface was illuminated from light that streamed through a small window that the desk was positioned in-front of. Finally, a large table with heavy chairs stood closer to the right side of the cabin. The wooden surface of each was carved with scenes of a battle between men and great creatures of the sea.

When Dany named new captains to each ship she declared that; the children, the weak, the old, and those who were with child, should be given priority with the bedding available in the captain’s cabins. Dany herself had been sharing her cabin with some of her handmaids, though if her guests planned to stay the night that was likely to change.

Some had grumbled when she had explained the stipulation, but most had agreed. For many of her people, they had slept on wooden floors cramped together so tightly that they at times felt as if they were unable to breathe. Quite a few preferred to sleep outside the confines of the ships, either on the beach or on the top decks. Gazing up at the sky, watching the stars before sleep overcame them.

 

As Dany entered the cabin, two of her soldiers broke off to stand guard outside the cabin door, whilst everyone else followed her inside. She moved towards the large table and seated herself at its head, her guards moved to stand behind her. Her kin glanced at each other for but a moment, before they too seated themselves. The Prince Daemon and Lady Leana sat together on Dany’s left side, with Lady Leana sitting closer to her, whilst the Princess Rhaenyra took the seat to Dany’s right. The twin knights stood either side of the table, in reach of their charges.

The door of the cabin had yet to close when a few of her handmaidens returned carrying refreshments. Water, wine and a few slices of bread. Though Dany imagined the latter would go untouched, given the staleness and her guests' dislike of the texture.

Her handmaids quickly filled her kin’s cups with their desired beverage, before filling Dany’s cup with water. Dany also made sure to quietly ask that each of the king’s guard knights be given cups filled with water as well. She knew that they would not drink from them at the moment, but they must have felt thirsty, especially due to wearing their heavy plated armour.

“Thank you, that will be all”, Dany said to her handmaidens as she dismissed them.

“Yes, your grace.” They replied in a babble of tongues, before they left the cabin of the “Missandei”, making sure to leave the platter of refreshments on the long table.

Prince Daemon’s hawkish eyes watched as her handmaids left before he turned to Dany.
“Tell me, your grace.” The title was spoken with sarcasm, “Have you ever heard of the war for the Stepstones?”

Part of Dany wanted to ask which war he meant to reference, given that the Stepstones had seen so much conflict. But she also remembered Viserys telling her of Prince Daemon’s bravery while fighting on the Stepstones, so she would hazard a guess that it was the same war that the Prince meant to speak of.

“I have heard about it once or twice. Though I must confess, I know not all the details.”

Prince Daemon’s chest swelled with Pride as he leaned back lazily in his seat. “Some ten or so years ago, the Triarchy alliance invaded the Stepstones and indiscriminately attacked any Westerosi ship that attempted to pass through, even those that offered no provocation. Eventually, myself and my future father-in-law sought to drive out the Triarchy from the Stepstones. We succeeded and once we smashed the triarchy I was named King of the Stepstones and the narrow sea.”

This was similar to what Viserys had told her. “Yet, you hold this title no longer?”

“I bent the knee to my brother, for I know that there is only one true king. The Stepstones were conquered in my brother’s name and are part of the seven kingdoms.” He leaned forward in his seat, both of his hands clasped loosely together as he smirked at her, “To call yourself queen, of this isle alone, is tantamount to treason against his Grace and the realm.”

Those of her guard who understood the common tongue went to unsheathe their blades due to the offence they felt on her part, though they ceased to do so as she held up a hand.

She was somehow unsurprised at Daemon’s boldness, given that he was known in history as a man who had leapt off of his dragon and onto another mid-flight.
Though she was still unsure if his accusation and unsubtly demand to renounce her queenhood was a heavy handed negotiation tactic, a lack of tact, or plain stupidity.
Perhaps it was a test? A way to see how she reacted? She did not know.
Dany decided that she would observe as she considered her reply.

Princess Rhaenyra let out a quiet groan as her head fell forward slightly to lean against her clasped hands. While Lady Leana’s neutral smile tightened a fraction, not looking at her husband as she kicked his leg from under the table. While Daemon’s expression did not change a fraction.

“Need I remind you that we are here to negotiate, Uncle.”, Princess Rhaenyra uttered through gritted teeth.

“Am I not negotiating?” Prince Damon spread his hands apart as he spoke in the tone of making a jest.

Princess Rhaenyra scoffed as she lifted her head to glare at her uncle, “Need I also remind you Daemon, that we are under the protection of Guest rights?”

The Prince shrugged unconcerned, “I don’t plan on breaking it.”

Perhaps he was hoping that Dany would violate Guest rights by ordering her guards to attack them? If that were to happen, no one in Westeros would trust a single word that left her lips, let alone offer her sanctuary. It would also give the royal family a pretext to declare war, or at least have her assassinated.

Dany had no intentions of breaking Guest right, though a part of her was sorely tempted to slap the smirk off of the Prince’s face. However, judging by the Princesses’ white knuckled clenched fists and fierce glare, she might do so for her.

Since the Princess was actively attempting to not strike her Uncle, Lady Leana addressed her husband instead, unamused by his antics. “Then what do you plan to do Daemon? She has three dragons, yet she sent a request for sanctuary rather than a declaration of war. Why make an enemy out of a possible ally?”

He gave his wife a pointed look. “We don’t know if she is an ally yet.”

Princess Rhaenyra, having reached the end of her patience, sharply responded to her Uncle’s doubt, “And yet she has not appeared before us as an enemy.”

Dany hoped her face remained blank, as the Princess glanced at her for a moment before taking a deep sigh.
“She is our blood, uncle. She is the blood of the dragon.”

“Do you believe she is Trueborn? That she is who she claims to be?” The Prince asked, looking between his niece, his wife, and Dany herself.

“I’d be shocked if she isn’t. She is of the right age, she is Valyrian and she has three dragons.” The Princess stated.
“Besides, have either of you heard of anyone who has had three dragons before?” Princess Rhaenyra raised an incredulous eyebrow.

“No.” Prince Daemon side-eyed Dany.
“No.” said Lady Leana as she shook her head.

“Then who else could she be, if not who she claims to be?” The Princess asked as she unclasped her hands outwardly.
She almost leaned over the table to stare directly into her uncle’s eyes. “She is our cousin Daemon. Our blood. She is a part of the house of the Dragon.”, she spoke almost breathlessly.

“...But we can not be completely certain”, The Lady Leana, spoke after a brief pause.

The Princess seemed to want to throw her hands into the air in frustration, looking at the Lady almost in betrayal, “You believe that she is a Dragonseed?”

The Lady held up a hand towards the Princess, “No, cousin. I do believe she is who she claims to be. But you know what the court is like, Rhaenyra. They will see the dragons as proof of her bloodline, but not of her-”, Lady Leana stopped speaking as the Princess glared daggers at her, almost daring her to finish her sentence.
The Lady glanced around quickly, looking for figures who might be listening in. She looked at Dany for a split second longer than the others in the room, but her apparent confusion must have been convincing enough. “-legitimacy.”The Lady whispered the word, as if it were a forbidden taboo.

Princess Rhaenyra still looked thunderous, but her eyes softened slightly, as she took a glance at Dany once more.
“Then we find proof. There will no doubt be records on Dragonstone. Perhaps a servant, a midwife or a maester who witnessed the birth.”
After a moment, she raised an eyebrow and smirked slightly before continuing , “And if they still refuse to believe the obvious, I believe her three dragons will burn anyone who is foolish enough to not see what is right in front of them.”

Lady Leana nodded, while Prince Daemon sniggered under his breath.
Dany’s stomach rolled slightly, it was not as if her dragons had never killed anyone, but not all problems could be solved with dragonfire.
And seeing her kin suggest it, as a surefire solution, left her feeling uneasy.
Besides, if she had burned every person who had ever insulted her, no doubt most of the world would have burned.

 

She was brought out of her rumination as the Princess continued her speech, imploring her uncle to listen. “You know how much Father values family. He would want to meet her. You know that.”

Prince Dameon quietly stared at Princess Rhaenyra before turning his attention fully to Dany. “Viserys would be overjoyed to meet the little dragon.”
The Princess and the Lady both sighed in relief…before the Prince continued.
“However, she calls herself Queen, on lands that belong to my brother. Is that not treason?”

Lady Leana sighed louder, exasperated. “She is a child. Mayhaps we can try a softer approach first? Would you threaten Baela or Rhaena if either of them started to call themselves Queen?”

Prince Daemon opened his mouth to reply but shut-it just as quickly at the stern look that Lady Leana levelled at him. Dany sipped her water and watched, alongside the Princess, who took a gulp of wine, as a silent conversation ensued between the husband and wife. In which Lady Leana emerged victorious, given her smile was much less stressed, and Prince Daemon’s less smug.

Dany sat her cup down, the clack of wood against wood signalled all heads to look at her.

“...May I ask you a question, My Prince?” ,Dany asked.

“You may.” The Prince’s grin appeared smug again, his sense of chastisement did not last long apparently.

Dany considered for but a moment before asking her question. “When did the seven kingdoms change their laws in regards to the legality of slavery?”.

The Prince’s smug grin slid off of his face, replaced with complete bafflement.
He had not expected her question.
Princess Rhaenyra stared at her as well, unsure as to why Dany had asked a seemingly random question.
Lady Leana’s eyes narrowed with confusion, but spoke in lieu of her husband, who seemed to be in somewhat of a stupor.

“...Slavery is an abhorrent practice that is forbidden in Westeros” ,Lady Leana answered slowly.

“But these isles belong to the seven kingdoms do they not?” ,Dany questioned.

“They do.”

“Then why was slavery allowed to take place here? Surely, since these lands belong to the seven kingdoms, the slavers and pirates who resided here should have faced consequences for breaking the law, should they have not?” Dany asked, turning to each of her kin.

Interestingly both the Prince and the Lady looked directly at the Princess, who looked down at her joint hands, as she tried to twist a ring around her finger that wasn’t there.

“…We were unaware that such an operation was occurring” The Princess voice was tinged with a hint of shame.

Dany turned to address the Princess pointedly, “How so? These are your lands are they not? Why did your garrison not come and bring these slavers to justice?”

Princess Rhaenyra’s eyes looked up from her hands, she looked at the Prince almost accusingly. “…No garrison resides here”.

“What about the other isles of the Stepstones? On which, does your garrison reside?”

“Do you mean to continue asking pointless questions or will you speak plainly?” Prince Daemon’s voice betrayed his frustration, his patience had evidently been worn thin from Dany’s questions and curiosity.

“My apologies, My Prince. I am merely trying to understand.” Dany stated apologetically.

“Understand what?” The Prince asked, his frustration mounting even further.

“You claim that this isle and all of the isles that are part of the Stepstones are the territory of the seven kingdoms, claimed in the name of his Grace, King Viserys. Is that Correct?”

“...Yes.” Daemon replied reluctantly.

Dany turned to Lady Leana, “You also claim that Slavery is prohibited in Westeros?”

“Indeed.” The Lady, nodded, still confused.

“Yet, the practice of Slavery was held here. Frequently and freely, without consequence?” ,she asked the Princess.

“Apparently so.” Princess Rhaenyra glanced down at her hands again, appearing frustrated, as she twisted a finger of her gloved hand, back and forth.

“And no garrison was stationed nearby, to stop these acts from occurring? To do justice in the King’s name?”

“Make your point.” Prince Daemon demanded, finally losing what little patience he had.

Dany obliged, “The Stepstones were once conquered in the name of his grace, King Viserys, I do not deny this. However, you yourself have confessed that no garrison was stationed here, that no fortifications were made, that none of your laws were enforced. Once the conquest of the Stepstones was over, you left, leaving behind no claim to these lands except your word.”
Dany pointedly looked at the Prince, “But words are wind and yours were swept away by the tide that brought new pirates to these shores. They reclaimed the Stepstones with ease.”

The Prince’s eyes glared at her darkly before attempting to burn a hole in the table with his stare, Lady Leana nodded along with her explanation, while the Princess seemed to stare at Dany enraptured.

“Until a short while ago, My Prince, these lands belonged to the pirates that inhabited it. Where they enabled their own laws and practices. Where they bought and sold slaves to the highest bidder. Where they terrorised any ship that passed its shores. But all of those who resided here, have since been defeated and these lands are theirs no longer. For that, I was named Queen of Bloodstone. So My Prince, I must ask you. Since I did not fight against any who were here in the crown's name, Nor did I conquer lands which belonged to the seven kingdoms. How have I committed any act of treason against his Grace or the realm?”

The Prince’s eyes snapped up from the table in disbelief and shock, mouth opening and closing as he tried to find an argument to respond with. Lady Leana had continued to nod to Dany’s explanation, her mouth falling a little further with every nod, until she stared at Dany wide-eyed with a hint of admiration. Princess Rhaenyra appeared completely astounded, as if she did not understand the meaning behind the words that Dany had spoken. Eventually, her gaze snapped to her companions, looking back and forth between them.

“If what she said is true, then she has committed neither sedition nor treason”. She swallowed heavily, dazed and unsure, as if speaking of an impossibility. “...She is her own rightful-”.

“-Queen”, Lady Leana finished the Princess’s statement, as she stared at Dany with a faraway look.

There was a heavy pause, as her kin seemed to digest their own words. The twin knights armour creaked as they shifted from foot to foot, unable to understand what revelation was causing their charges to go into a state of shock.

Dany sipped her drink, while she waited for her kin to collect themselves.

Prince Daemon was the first to gather himself as he rested an elbow on the table as he ran his hand through his hair.
“Fuck”, he groaned in the common tongue.

Dany picked up her drink to sip at it again.

The Prince truly had such a way with words.

Notes:

I wasn't completely happy with some of the parts I wrote for this chapter, mainly the dialogue. I hope I didn't make any of the characters appear OOC.
But, hey maybe that's all in my head and it's just from my perspective as the writer.
*Shrug*

Dany: I hear your reasons, but I raise you with this: Logic^TM.
Everyone else: ...S*** she's got a point.

Daemon: Look I wouldn't mind- *slightly pained expression as Laena stomps on his foot* I would love to have you around for family dinner. But when you come over, you can't call yourself Queen anymore, especially in front of my brother.
Dany: Oh really? Well, have you considered- *holds up an UNO reverse card in Daemon's face*.
Daemon: ...F***

The Targs: Trying to disprove Dany's Queenship without starting a war, as they still believe that the Stepstones fall under Viserys' domain.
Dany: I'm gonna do what called a pro gamer move.

Chapter 4: The Negotiation

Summary:

Dany plans and negotiates.

Notes:

Hey- *squarks and ducks behind cover to avoid tomatoes*
...
*Small white flag peaks out and slowly waves*
🏳🏳🏳
Are- are we good?
*Slowly peaks out*
Ok, so hi!
I know its been *looks guiltily at calendar*...6 months, and I am very sorry about that.
No, this fic has not been abandoned, IRL has been really busy, (I had papers to write, exams to do and a dissertation to complete. Sleep? Don't know her.)
Plus, I have realised how hard writing can be, seriously writers who have regular or semi-regular upload schedules kudos to you. (Please tell me your secrets, what sorcery do you use?!)
So anyway, I am really sorry for the delay, I hope a long chapter makes up for it.
Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

By the time Dany had finished taking a long sip of her drink again, her kin had been somewhat successful in regaining their composure.
Though they were only somewhat successful given the fact that she could practically see the shock and disbelief pouring off of them.

“I gather that this is not what you expected, when you received the message from Lord Estermont and made your journey here?” ,she asked innocently.
Lady Laena made a noise that sounded like the start of incredulous laughter that she choked back down her throat and swallowed, “Our utmost apologies, your Grace”.
She looked expectantly between her kin, “For not addressing you with more courtesy”.

Princess Rhaenyra coughed into the side of her hand, clearing her throat before she too spoke. “Indeed, your Grace. It is as Lady Laena says. You have our most sincere apologies. It was not our wish to offend you. ”

They both turned to look at the Prince, who was still staring at the table while running a hand through his hair.
His other hand was clenched on the table surface, but his demeanour screamed frustration and defeat rather than raw anger.
Lady Laena roused him from his stupor by stomping on his foot.
He blinked rapidly as he looked up to his wife, as if remembering where he was, before turning his gaze to Dany.
“Our most sincere apologies…your Grace. It is as you said, this situation was rather outside our expectations. We regret any discomfort we may have caused you.” The words were spoken with courtesy, but Dany doubted the sincerity behind them.

Lady Laena and Princess Rhaenyra, were sincere or at the very least were consciously aware of the precariousness of the situation, and the possible consequences that could occur from any act of perceived discourtesy.
Dany was hardly offended, though she knew others in her position would not be so forgiving.
She felt that her kin had actually been quite polite compared to many who had been invited to meet her or seek an audience.
They hadn’t tried to kill her yet.
Nor had any of them insulted her birth or origin.

They had been fairly cordial.
Perhaps with the exception of Prince Daemon.
Though from how his niece and wife reacted to his…negotiation methods, she gathered he often acted as he did.
Like a cat playing with its food, amused but able to pounce on its prey at a moment’s notice.

That’s what he had been doing. Playing.
Testing the boundaries he could get away with.
Hissing when he felt he or those he considered his, felt threatened.
Mayhaps that was the reason why she had not felt threatened, even at sword point.
That and she had no doubt that one of her children, human or dragon, would have killed him if he attempted to harm her.

Perhaps, like a cat, he had hoped to bring a dead mouse to his brother as a gift?
Though that was his mistake.
For there were no mice that sat at this table, only dragons.
And one of them, deny it as he might, was a Queen.

She smiled softly. “Yes, I imagine this is a rather unexpected situation. However, I believe that we can come to an…agreement so to speak, that may temper any…dissatisfaction. For all parties involved”.

“An agreement?” The princess leaned forward slightly, intrigued.

“Yes. A…partnership, so to speak.” Dany answered.

“...Between who, Your Grace?” Lady Laena asked, even though her eyes told Dany that she already knew the answer.

Dany tilted her head, slightly, still smiling as she answered “Between the Seven Kingdoms and the Isle of Bloodstone, My Lady.”

“And what would such a partnership entail?” The Princess questioned, though it was out of curiosity rather than sarcasm.

Dany turned her attention to the Princess,“Primarily? A trade agreement between both of our kingdoms.”

The Princess inclined her head slightly, wordlessly asking Dany to continue.

“We have many goods to trade, goods I believe might be of interest to you. Myrish lace, carpets and lenses. Lysene tapestries and perfumes. Tyroshi armour and helmets. Dyes, spices, armour, weapons, clothes, gems, jewels, wines and many more things from many distant shores.” Dany listed some samples of the goods that could be sold, making sure to keep her voice steady and even, as to not sound too desperate. “Things that could be sold at a fraction of the time and cost that would normally be needed to import such items from the free cities.”

Once, she had been a beggar. A beggar queen. But a beggar all the same.
She had no desire to return to being one.
Even as she planned to ask for sanctuary in Westeros, she worked to ensure that neither she nor her people came to the seven kingdoms as beggars.
The pirates had accumulated a large hoard of goods, some stolen, some used to trade for other merchandise or for slaves.
She had ordered those of her children who were literate to read over any reports and ship manifests that were available, to understand what goods were aboard which ship.
She also charged many of her people to unload the cargo stored on board each ship, with those who were literate taking note of the number of goods, and any discrepancies between the available manifest and the cargo the ship contained.
Once everything had been accounted for, the goods were to be split up amongst all the other vessels, so that each ship carried an ample amount of cargo but was comfortable enough for many of her children to travel aboard.

Though Dany was not a merchant, she knew that the goods of the free cities and the known world would fetch a good price.
Perhaps more, given the fact it would take less time to receive the goods when compared to importing them from overseas.
The money could then be used to buy her people food, clothes, medicine and whatever they needed to live.
Perhaps even permanent shelter on the mainland, provided she raised enough funds.

Dany also knew that eventually she would run out of goods to sell.
She knew she could sell her ships' services or even the vessels themselves if it came down to it.
Though, in all honesty she would rather not.
The ships would allow all of her people to flee if the need arose.
Besides, she would need them for…other purposes.

Princess Rhaenyra’s eyes widened slightly, as Dany continued to list some of the goods that could be sold. No doubt understanding that it was worth a small fortune.“...That is a very generous offer.”

“If we were to agree to any trade agreement between our two kingdoms, what would you ask for in return? Coin?” The Prince had been mostly silent, but considering the fact he hadn’t openly questioned the legitimacy of the goods she offered, meant that perhaps he was being more courteous.
Or at least acting with a touch more caution, tact non-withstanding.

“Yes. But gold or silver would suffice as well.” Truth be told, Dany thought that gold or silver might be the better option as she was unfamiliar with the specific values of Westerosi currency, though Dany had asked to learn from those who were more informed.
Each of the free cities had their own coins with their own denominations, but the value of gold and silver was known across the known world.
If she was driven out of the seven kingdoms, like she had been at Qarth, she would be able to buy supplies from elsewhere.

 

“Do you suppose Lord Beesbury will be delighted or bemoan all the expenses to come?” The Princess asked Lady Laena, with a raised eyebrow and a knowing look in her eye.

Prince Daemon’s lips twitched upwards in genuine amusement, his smile for once was neither mocking nor a sneer in disguise.

Lady Laena let out a quiet hum of contemplation, “If he doesn’t faint from shock first, I believe he will be cautiously optimistic.”, before taking a sip from her wine.

Princess Rhaenyra also smiled in amusement, before taking a sip of her wine, and allowing a polite smile to settle on her face as she turned to address Dany. “We would have to discuss such matters more extensively with our Master of Coin, but I see no reason to decline such a generous offer. An official agreement will be drawn up at a later time.”

So Lord Beesbury was the Master of Coin?
She knew that it was one of the positions held by a member of the small council, who helped the king govern the realm.
If he was incharge of the expenditures of the Seven Kingdoms, it would be crucial to meet with him at some point in the near future.

“You have my thanks, My Princess.” Dany inclined her head, though she wanted to let out a sigh of relief.

The Princess’s eyes were pleased, before they furrowed for a moment Not in anger, but more so in confusion, as if she remembered something. “You mentioned that this…partnership would primarily involve a trade agreement between both kingdoms. What else would it involve?”

“...An offer.”, was all that Dany answered.

“An offer?” The Lady tilted her head to the side, as she repeated Dany’s answer.

Dany nodded. “Yes. One I believe you and many others would be interested in.”

“...Go on.” The Prince spoke with surprising seriousness, his chin resting on top of his connected hands as he leaned forward with interest.

“For many a year, war after war has been waged over these isles. Every crack and crevice of these isles has been soaked in blood, and yet they are never held for long. The banners of the victor disappear with the coming tide, and no one seeks to bring them back to shore, as the isles are deemed to be less than worthless…And yet, a few years later, another war will be fought, another victor decided, another banner abandoned. Why?” The question was rhetorical, but she asked it anyway.

All three of her kin glanced at one another, intrigued but unsure if the question was indeed rhetorical, Lady Leana decided to answer after some hesitation, “...Because of the major shipping lanes that run through the Stepstones, your Grace. All sea trade to and from the east coast of Westeros, as well as a number of the free cities, must pass through these shipping lanes to reach the major markets of the world.”

“And the one who controls the Stepstones, controls the access to those markets?” Dany, summarised.

“Indeed, your Grace. It was one of the reasons why my father went to war against the Triarchy.” The Lady had a far away look in her eyes, remembering times that had long since passed. Then she blinked, and remembered where she was, before she carried on, “Originally pirates besieged the shipping lanes and restricted trade, the Triarchy sought to stop the distribution and allow trade to continue uninterrupted.”

“But the continuation of trade only applied to the Triarchy and their allies, everyone else had to pay a toll. Or at least they were told they had to…after their ships had been sacked and sunk.” The Prince spoke up, his distaste for the Triarchy clear, as he practically spat the word out.

“House Velyaron had lost many ships and men to the Triarchy, my father sought to end the Triarchy’s hold on the Stepstones and ensure that his ships could pass through safely.” Lady Laena continued.

“And yet, he did not hold them?” Dany asked, though she already suspected what the answer would be.

Princess Rhaenyra swallowed before she answered, though the pinched look of her face betrayed her frustration, as if she had heard the same excuse time and time again and still found them wanting.“...War is expensive, your Grace. And the Stepstones are far from our shores.”

Dany raised a single eyebrow, “If a single war is expensive, I wonder what the cost will be for all the wars to come?” She innocently asked aloud, before taking another sip of her water.

When she placed her drink back down on the table, the Princess, Prince and Lady, were all staring at her.

Lady Laena’s mouth opened as if to say something, only for her mouth to hang slightly open as she seemed to be at a loss for words, before she swallowed and found her voice again.“...All the wars to come?”

Dany looked at the Lady with feigned confusion, “You confirmed it yourself, My Lady. The one who controls the Stepstones, controls access to the markets of the world. The Triarchy wanted that control all those years ago, and I imagine that desire has not changed.”

“They wouldn’t dare-” Prince Daemon started to raise his voice and rise from his chair, before Dany interrupted him.

“They have dared before, and they will dare again.”

The Prince stopped standing up, but he made no room to sit down.

“I have no doubt that you would bravely ride out, to fight against the Triarchy again, My Prince.” Prince Daemon’s head tilted slightly upwards with pride, though his eyes did not move from Dany’s face.
“However, there will come a time, whether that be today, tomorrow, in a moon, or in a decade. Where you will be able to fight, no longer. Who do you suppose would fight in your stead, when war once again erupts on these isles?” She asked this question not only to the Prince, but to the Princess and Lady Laena.

The question left a foul taste in her mouth, she knew it was cruel to mention their children, to imply the harsh fate that could befall them.
As a mother, she did not wish for any harm to befall any child.
The death of a child…left a void that may never be filled again, the grief and the despair could drag you down and drown you in a sea of hopelessness, where every crash of waves reminded you of what was lost.
She did not want her kin to die, nor she did not want any child to die…but they would.
Unless something was done.

All three of their faces seemed to drain of colour as the slow realisation, as to what she suggested the future for their children would entail, set in.

Lady Laena’s fingers trembled slightly as she lifted her wine glass to her lips, taking a shaky sip, before carefully placing the glass back down on the table and gripping the cup with both hands. Though her hands ceased to visibly shake, they were wrapped so tightly around the cup that Dany could almost swear that she heard the cup begin to crack. The Lady’s eyes were glassy and distant, her shock and sadness evident as her lips silently mouthed the names of those her distant eyes were set upon.

Princess Rhaenyra was more reactive. At first she tried to keep her composure, biting down so hard on her bottom lip that Dany feared that she may draw blood. Though it was in vain, as her eyes began to well up with tears. Dany was uncertain as to whether the tears were of fury or despair, but she suspected that both were involved. The Princess stood up quickly before she remembered where she was, and continued in a more graceful manner whilst discreetly trying to wipe any traces of tears away from her eyes. She began to slowly pace about and around her chair, her hands twisting invisible rings on her fingers.

Prince Daemon was more…vocal in his reactions. At first he remained unmoving, his entire face void of all emotion, even his eyes just appeared to be blank. He did not move when his wife trembled and wrapped her hands around her cup, nor did he move when his niece wiped her tears and began to pace about. He just stared at Dany, unmoving, to the point where Dany briefly thought that he had forgotten to breathe and had become frozen in time.

The thought had only lasted a moment, before it was abruptly proven wrong when the Prince leapt to his feet, nearly knocking his chair over as it slammed against the cabin wall. Both of his hands crashed down upon the surface of the table, causing his wine glass to jump up and spill some of its contents.

The Lady and the Princess both flinched at the sudden noise and movement, their heads snapping towards the Prince with alarm. Both Kingsguard also appeared startled and gripped the pommels of their swords, while her own guards nearly drew their own blades. Dany and the Prince stared at each other, neither blinking, she raised a closed fist up to her side, and only then did she hear the sheathing of steel.

“You dare threaten my children?” His voice, in contrast with his body, was void of anger. Though the lack of emotion gave a chilling undertone, as if asking Dany if she dared to repeat herself in his presence and suffer the consequences.

Dany gently shook her head as she replied, “No, My Prince. I do not say this as a threat, only a statement of fact. So that you might understand.”

“And what would you have us understand?” The Prince’s voice was still eerily calm. And though his companions did not speak, their eyes darted between his tense form and Dany.

While the eye’s of his companions darted between his tense form and Dany.

“That while you may argue that the cost of what I intend to propose may be too great, the cost of your inaction will be even greater.” Dany spoke the words aloud, her voice steady and clear.

Nobody spoke for a long moment, the only movement in the ship’s cabin was the rise and fall of its occupants. The eyes of Princess Rhaenyra, Lady Laena and the twin King’s guard rapidly darted from Prince Daemon’s tense form to Dany’s position.

…Slowly the Prince sat back down in his seat.
While nobody breathed an audible sigh of relief, everyone seemed to breathe easier now that the tension was no longer choking them. Lady Laena’s fingers loosened from around her glass as she took a short sip. The Princess did not sit down again, instead she chose to stand behind her chair, her elbows resting on its back as her joined thumbs rubbed the bridge of her nose.

She let out a breath, as she lowered her hands from her face. She leaned forward, as she looked directly at Dany, “Then what do you propose?”.

Dany considered how to best answer the question for a moment before she turned to look at the now seated Prince, “My Prince, when you fought against the Triarchy, how long did it take you and Lord Velaryon to drive them out of the Stepstones?”

“...Two years.” The Prince muttered, a scowl on his face.

“Two years," Dany repeated. “The Triarchy held these isles for two years, despite having poor fortifications and no support from dragons… I wonder how long could someone hold these isles for, if they had both?”

For a moment, the Princess, Prince, Lady and even the Kingsguard stared at her as if she were mad.

“...You mean to…reinforce the Stepstones?” Lady Laena, asked faintly, as if she couldn’t believe the words she was speaking aloud.

“The Isle of Bloodstone has been established as an independent kingdom. I mean to keep it that way.” Was all Dany said in reply, though those words did not fully encompass all that she thought.

She had learned from Astapor and Yunkai.
And Dany was determined to ensure that she did not repeat her previous mistakes.
If she left the Isle undefended, it would eventually be overtaken again either by pirates or an alliance from the free cities.
In either case it would inevitably lead to more wars, more death, more slaves.

At the moment the best option of slowing down the slave trade that passed through the Stepstones was by gathering allies with a similar morality towards slavery, and appealing to the possible economic and personal benefits that they could obtain through a..long term investment.
They stood to gain all of the benefits and avoid any of the subsequent risk and responsibility involved.
Why wouldn’t they accept?

The Princess seemed to be caught between hysterical laughter and utter disbelief, “...But the Triarchy would never accept that, they would - they would-”

“They would declare war?” Dany asked, continuing the Princess’s sentence. “Perhaps in time they would, but not immediately. Why would they? As long as the trade routes are freely available to them, their ships are unmolested by pirates, and their coffers grow more full, why would they care? Why pay the cost of fighting, when the price is seemingly so little?”

She remembered Magister Illyrio’s words in regards to the Dothraki.
‘Why take the risk, when their friendship comes so cheap?’
Such was true for all of the free cities that the Dothraki could reach.
Would this truely be so different?

Princess Rhaenyra’s mouth hung open slightly, which she closed as she swallowed. Her eyes were a mixture of rising hope and incredulousness. “They would see the Iron Throne attempting to reclaim disputed territory, that alone would give them a pretext to launch an attack and declare war.”

Dany lightly tapped the table with her index finger, “Yet the Isle of Bloodstone is not an expanded territory of the Seven Kingdoms, but rather an independent kingdom which has ties to Westeros and Essos. Would they really choose to fight, when trade and friendship seemingly comes so cheap?” Dany questioned.

It also meant that should war be declared, the Iron Throne was not obligated to support the island of Bloodstone. However, it also meant that the Seven Kingdoms would not be accused of any wrongdoing. Yet another reason to support the given proposal.

“Their acceptance will not last forever.” Lady Laena spoke confidently. Her wide eyes looking directly at Dany’s as if begging her to understand that.
But Dany did understand.

She knew that while the free cities would likely not object to a more permanent solution to stop pirates from targeting ships which passed through the Stepstones. They would object to Trade restrictions.
Especially if those restrictions applied to the Slave Trade.

Braavos and Lorath would not object, as they did not practise slavery.
Pentos, as far as she knew, had not yet warred against Braavos and thus had not been banned from practising slavery.
The slave trade in Pentos and Myr, would be heavily affected by restrictions of trade at sea, forcing them to rely on overland trade routes.
Tyrosh would also be affected, arguably more than either Pentos or Myr as it was an island, and thus would not have any overland routes to rely upon.
Given all of that and Tyrosh’s proximity to Bloodstone they would be the free city most likely to strike first.

The other cities in the east would also be affected by the restrictions, but not nearly as badly as the free cities in the west.
They had other trade routes to rely upon.
Enough that they would debate and delay sending the Triarchy any reinforcements in the event of war.

“It does not have to last forever, just long enough for the fortifications to be built and the necessary supplies to be stored. I have enough men that would agree to be part of a garrison for this isle in times of peace and war, enough ships to ensure that any pirate would likely be deterred from attacking any ships passing through, and three dragons.” Dany explained carefully.
“To be sure I may only be a young girl, and know little of the ways of the world. What do you think, My Princess, My Prince and My Lady?”, she asked innocently.

Princess Rhaenyra and Lady Leana stared at her in stunned silence, though there was growing admiration in their eyes.
Dany could not see the Prince’s reaction as he looked down at the table, though she saw that his body was slowly trembling.
For a long time there was silence until slowly Prince Daemon began to laugh, a low chuckle that grew louder and louder until it filled the cabin.
All heads slowly turned towards the Prince as he kept laughing.

“Daemon?” Princess Rhaenyra, cautiously asked. In a tone that clearly portrayed her concern for her Uncle’s state of mind.

“Can you imagine the faces of those old vultures that swarm around my brother, when they hear of this?” The Prince asked, thoroughly amused and snickering.

Lady Laena looked around, as if checking to see if anyone else had heard what the Prince had said, though of course seemingly only one other person understood “...You, agree with this idea then?”

Prince Daemon looked at his wife, still amused and raised an eyebrow “You don’t?”

The Lady fiddled with her cup on the table, considering her reply carefully. “Considering all the factors…I believe that the idea holds merit. I am more curious to know if you plan to agree to this proposal due to the advantages it poses, or because the expressions of the small council will be an endless source of amusement for you, when they hear of this.”

“Why must it be mutually exclusive?” He answered with a small smirk on his face.

Lady Laena’s answering stare was unamused.
The Princess also starred, though her eyes did not focus on any one person in the cabin. Instead her mind seemed to twist and turn the idea as if it was a never before seen gemstone, trying to see it from every angle, to find every flaw or perfection before she decided it's worth.

When neither Princess Rhaenyra nor Lady Laena verbally replied to the Prince’s rhetorical question, he rolled his eyes before he spoke. “The idea does have merit, despite our dragons the Triarchy held their ground here for two years. These islands could be defended for longer, if they were reinforced in the right places. The Triarchy may try to take over these isles, but they would struggle.”
He glanced at the door at the cabin, as if it wasn’t there. “...Especially against three dragons, who would burn them all alive, before they even took a step off of their ships to huddle in their caves.”

“Such an ambitious plan can not be put into action without the King’s permission.” Lady Laena stated with certainty, “Would such a proposal be enough to convince him?” The Lady asked Princess Rhaenyra.

The Princess blinked, once, then twice, before shaking her head slightly and returning to the present.
“I will impress upon my father that action must be taken, given the seriousness of the situation.”

Prince Daemon lazily tilted his head to the side, “It took two years before Viserys decided to send aid to the Stepstones, mayhaps it will take him another two years to decide his next course of action concerning these rocks.” He pondered aloud sarcastically.

If there was humour in his statement, Princess Rhaenyra did not recognise it. She gripped the back of her chair glaring at Daemon as she spoke
“Then I would tell my father the truth. I will tell him that I do not want to receive a raven that tells me that my sons are dead. That my dear Jace fought to protect his brothers, and his body was found riddled with Myrish bolts. That my sweet Luke tried to follow his brother's example, and was swallowed by the sea, never to be seen again. That my little Joffrey fell from his dragon and was in agony with little comfort as he lay dying. That will be the future of his grandchildren, if he chooses not to act again.” Her voice cracked towards the end of her speech, she snatched up her glass and took a few heavy gulps of wine, before placing the cup slightly heavy handedly on the table.

Lady Laena appeared lost for words for a few moments, “Rhaenyra-”

The Princess raised a hand, to stop her from speaking any further.

“If we agree to this proposal then I will never receive such a raven, and you will have to fear receiving one as well. We must impress upon the importance of accepting this proposal to my father and the small council.” The Princess declared with finality.

For a short time there was silence, broken only by Prince Daemon’s finger rhythmically tapping the side of his glass, his head still tilted.
“And what if the newly re-established Hand of the King whispers reasons of rejection in my brother’s ear?”

Lady Laena’s shoulders slumped slightly, “Daemon, I know that you and Ser Otto have your… grievances with each other.”, exhaustion creeping into her voice.

The Prince’s eyes darkened, his voice spitting venom as he spoke “He’s a leech, a parasitic cun-”

The no-doubt creative string of insults was cut off as both women sighed, clearing having had this argument before and knew exactly what to expect.

“Husband, I am well aware of your opinion of Ser Otto.” Lady Laena used her thumb to rub the bridge of her nose. “My own father has often aired similar grievances he has had with the Hand of the King, over many a year and many glasses of wine. But the fact of the matter is that regardless of your opinion of him, it would be exceedingly difficult for Ser Otto to ignore the benefits this offer brings. To the realm and to his own House.”

Prince Daemon slumped in his chair slightly, his arms crossed like a chastised child. “He will tell the King that the costs are too great for the Crown to bear.”, he complained.

“Neither I, nor Ser Otto, need to be Lord Beesbury to know that the cost may be too much for the crown to bear. If that is to be his main excuse for denial, then we must find a way to counteract it.” The Princess insisted.

The Prince bit his lower lip ideally in thought, before he turned to look at Dany. Though his arms were still crossed, he sat up straighter in his seat.
“...If we were to accept this offer, how do you propose these fortifications would be paid for, would you ask for charity?”

Dany shook her head, before she answered. “No, My Prince. I plan to pay a portion myself with the profits I will make when selling my goods, but I know that for such an idea to come to fruition it would take much more. I would ask for your investment. From the Crown and other Noble Houses.”

“Other Houses?” Lady Laena, questioned.

“You mentioned previously, My Lady, that your father fought against the Triarchy to ensure that his ships could pass safely through the Stepstones. While I may be unaware as to the precise amount of coin that passes through House Velaryon from the sea trade, I can imagine that the losses were substantial enough to warrant a declaration of war.” Prince Daemon let out a huff of amusement, that he quickly tried to disguise as a cough into the side of his hand, given his wife’s unimpressed look he was apparently unsuccessful.

The Lady turned back towards Dany, invested in her explanation. “I also imagine that House Velaryon was not an outlier in such a situation. How many Houses were affected by the Triarchy’s occupation of the Stepstones? How many would be willing to invest in the safety of their ships that pass through these waters?”

“...If some Houses were willing to invest in such an idea, how could they guarantee that their investment would last? Discounting possible future engagements with pirates, how would the isle of Bloodstone sustain itself long term? There are hardly any natural resources and I do believe it is fair to say that crops would be difficult to cultivate.” The Princess questioned. Her head tilted to the side as her chin rested lightly on her hand.

Dany considered this for a moment, “Any valuables aboard captured ships can be liquidated and used to pay for supplies, materials and the wages of my men. Those who will be deployed as part of the garrison and those who will begin construction of the fortifications. To add to that
my ships would also be able to transport all the required materials, so no extra expenses will be required. If that is not enough, the Stepstones are an ideal nexus for trade, Dragon’s cove could be used as a trading port between the free cities and Westeros. And while we may never be able to grow wheat or barley, if given enough time we could begin to plant cabbages, beans and other plants. In time, Bloodstone will become more self-sustaining, and with each year that passes, the worry that comes with the uncertainty of long-term investments will also pass.”

Princess Rhaenyra looked impressed, the Prince had an expression of contemplation. Whilst Lady Laena seemed to turn the idea over and over in her mind, before nodding. Pleased.
“I have no doubt that my father would be interested. I believe he complains about the Stepstones as much as he complains about his brother. If he could be convinced, I believe that he would contribute generously…But even though House Velaryon is one of the wealthiest in the realm, I doubt we could pay for all expenditures…”, her voice trailed off.

“Then we write to other Houses, those who no doubt remember the last time the Triarchy occupied the Stepstones. House Lannister, House Darklyn, House Mooton. House Grafton, Mallister, Redwyne, Manderly…House Hightower.” Princess Rhaenyra suggested the last House hesitantly, while glancing at Prince Daemon.

“Of Course”. Prince Daemon scoffed. “You believe that they would be interested in contributing?”

“I believe that they would be interested in knowing. Whether they choose to contribute is another matter entirely, but the same goes for many other Houses.” Lady Laena explained plainly.

“Other Houses are not Hightowers.” The Prince spat the name as if it was a grave insult.

The lady sighed patience waning, “Daemon”.

“You want to ask those Highcunts for help?” Prince Daemon asked incredulously.

“Uncle.” The Princess also seemed to be losing patience.

“They can not be trusted, they will hear of this offer and call you weak, Rhaenyra.” Prince Daemon insisted.

The Princess rolled her eyes at her Uncle’s antics. “If I can impress the importance of this alliance onto her Grace, the Queen-” .

Prince Daemon interrupted her with a low scoff “You would have better luck walking around King’s Landing disguised as a Septa.” His head leaned to one side, a smirk on his lips as he wondered aloud, “Maybe then she would at least pretend to listen to your preaching.”

Though his smirk shrank a fraction, as he looked at his less than impressed Niece. Princess Rhaenyra waited to see if the Prince would interrupt her again before she continued.
“I believe that she can convince her father and her uncle to contribute towards this investment. Her Grace, always speaks of duty to the realm, she would at the very least hear this proposal, albeit begrudgingly. She would see the benefits that this would bring, and if duty is not enough to persuade her, perhaps as a mother she would be more inclined to agree.” At that last part, she glanced at Dany.

Any trace of the Prince’s smirk left his face, as he remembered Dany’s words.
As they all did.

Princess Rhaenyra took a deep breath, as she looked intensely at both of her companions, “So. Are we in agreement?”

“Yes”. Lady Laena nodded without delay.

“...Yes”, Prince Daemon took longer to respond, his agreement was not voiced with mockery or reluctance but rather with a quiet firmness. Evidently his love for his daughters apparently surpassed his hatred for anyone associated with the name Hightower.

Rhaenyra turned towards Dany with a small, but genuine smile on her face. “Your offer is generous and intriguing in equal measure, your Grace. His Grace, King Viserys, understands the value of the Stepstones and will no doubt agree to this partnership. Though at this time we are unable to write a formal treaty between our two kingdoms without all relevant parties being present, you Grace.”

Dany hoped her relief was not audible as she answered the Princess. “I am grateful for your consideration. Although we can not agree to a formal treaty at this time, perhaps we might discuss an informal agreement? One that could be presented to your King, before our meeting?”

The Princess considers the suggestion for a moment before nodding, “That sounds agreeable.”

 

Dany looked over shoulder, at her guards behind her. “Ser Davos, would you please fetch ink, quill and paper from my desk? And the ledger as well?”

“Of course, your Grace” Ser Davos gave a short nod, as he moved over to the desk to collect the items she requested. She thanked him, as he set the items in front of her.

Lady Laena watched the knight, curious. “...You are a knight?”

“Yes, My Lady.” Ser Davos answered politely.

Prince Daemon looked up and down, assessing the knight. “What House do you serve?”

Ser Davos stood up straighter. “I earned my knighthood while fighting in the Dornish Marches, My Prince. I then served as a hedge knight under House Dondarrion, before I swore my sword to my Queen”. He gave Dany a small smile, which she returned.

“How ever did you end up here?” Lady Laena asked, confused.

“I was part of a small party that was patrolling the Boneway your Grace, before we engaged in a Skirmish with a Dornish patrol. After many of our number were injured or killed, pirates ambushed both our parties and took the rest of us captive. They dragged us to their ship, which was waiting on the river Wyl, before sailing here. We have been here ever since.” Ser Davos explained.

“How long ago was this?” The Prince questioned.

Ser Davos glanced down at the cabin’s floor for a few moments in contemplation, no doubt attempting to remember how many days had passed since then. But with each passing second his expression grew more and more uncertain, before he shrugged his shoulders as he looked at the Prince. “At least a few moons, My Prince.”

“A few moons?” Princess Rhaenyra repeats, concern and confusion in her voice. “How did this go unnoticed for so long?”

“Forgive me, your Grace. But when men go missing in the Boneway most people assume they either died, deserted, or were captured. We always blamed the Dornish and the Dornish always blamed us. Neither of us considered that Slavers were responsible.” Ser Davos shrugged his shoulders again.

Dany thanked him for both his words and his actions, before excusing him to return to his former position.

Princess Rhaenyra rubbed her forehead in frustration and confusion before she turned to Dany, “How many others from Westeros are amongst you people?”

“A fair number, My Princess. While the majority of my people hail from Essos and other distant lands, some of my people were taken from their homes near the coastlines. Others like Ser Davos were taken from places where men oft go missing such as the Dornish Marches.”
Dany waited a few moments before adding, “...And a few were even taken from your capital of King’s Landing.”

This changed their frustration and confusion, to abject shock and alarm.

“What?!” Princess Rhaenyra stood up sharply from her chair again, the force almost knocking the chair over.

“That can’t be.” The Lady spoke faintly, as she visibly sagged in her chair.

“That’s not possible, my Gold Cloaks would have removed the heads of any who were responsible!” Prince Daemon objected fiercely, his hands clenched tightly.

“I have been told that a few members of the City Watch have been complicit in such dealings, My Prince. Either paid to be blind to what they see, or paid more directly by slavers for the ‘sale of merchandise’”. Her heart filled with sadness and anger at the injustice of it all.

The Gold Cloaks acted as the City Watch of King’s Landing, they were supposed to defend the city, enforce the law and protect the people. Yet, some had chosen to hurt the people they were supposed to protect instead, and profit from doing so.

“...These are serious accusations.” Princess Rhaenyra swallowed, though she sounded unsure of herself. “What proof do you have of these claims?”

Dany opened the ledger in-front of her, flipping through the pages until she found what she was looking from, before turning the ledger around.
“While the Slavers took precautions as to not draw too much attention, for such a large-scale operation they had to have written records of all expenses, profits and transactions. Including their regular customers and suppliers.”

Her kin leaned over, the ledger with interest.

“This supplier has not been named officially on any documentation”. Dany said as she pointed to the name on the page. The words may have been written in the Valyrian dialect of the free cities, but it was obvious to see what was written. “He is only known by the alias ‘The Captain’, however this supplier is responsible for selling many of those who come from King’s Landing.”

“Where were they taken from?” Princess Rhaenyra asked, looking more and more troubled.

“Many said they were taken from places such as ‘Fleabottom’ and ‘the Street of Silk’, although a few who were enslaved were not native to King’s Landing and had only come in search work.” Dany lacked the knowledge of the layout of King’s landing, but the people she had spoken to had told her that they were some of the more destitute areas of the city, where it was not unusual for someone to go missing.

“Unlucky bastards.” Prince Daemon muttered under his breath.

“...How long has this been allowed to go one for?” Dany thought for a moment that she had been speaking to herself aloud, but then she realised that Lady Laena was looking at Princess Rhaenyra, out of the corner of her eye.

The Princess evidently felt the gaze upon her, but only met the Lady’s eyes for a short moment before she looked down at the table in-front of her in a mixture of frustration and self-approach.

“I am not certain as to the exact amount of time, My Lady, but judging by the number of pages in this ledger alone.” Dany flipped through more and more pages, more and more transactions, more and more people. “...It has been occurring for a few years, at the least.”

Prince Daemon and Lady Laena kept glancing between the ledger and Princess Rhaenyra with incredulousness and alarm. Princess Rhaenyra rubbed the bridge of her nose so hard it almost looked painful, as her eyes glanced at the book in shame.

“And you believe that the Gold Cloaks are involved in this…operation?” Princess Rhaenyra asked quietly, not meeting either Dany’s or her kin’s eyes.

“Although they took precautions to disguise themselves, those involved have apparently grown less cautious and more arrogant as more time has passed. Those who remember being taken recall that while they may have removed their signature cloaks, the men who took them neglected to remove their armor. Is it custom for sellswords and mercenaries to all wear mail armour, boots, black gloves and iron cudgels? Or for their captain’s to wear black breastplates ornamented with four golden disks?” Dany asked with a raised eyebrow.

The Prince seemed to slump in his seat, “Fuck”. He bit the inside of his cheek. “...Can those you spoke to identify any who were involved? A scar, a birthmark, missing teeth, anything?”

Dany did not reply, instead she flipped through many more pages of the ledger until she reached blank pages, which were obscured with a few loose pieces of paper.
She laid the papers side by side upon the table for all to see, the papers contained rough descriptions and even a few crude sketches of the men who had taken those from King’s Landing.
Anything that they could remember.

Fortunately the slavers' lack of caution and increased arrogance had led to something far more valuable than birthmarks or accents.
She pointed to one page in particular, “Multiple witnesses have confirmed that this coat of arms was worn by the man leading all of the others.”

“The Captain?” Prince Daemon enquired, as he leaned forward, rearing to pounce.

Dany nodded, “The Captain.”

The coat of arms was a seven-pointed star, parts silver and blue, upon a silver and blue field.
It was not the only coat of arms that her people had spotted, a few had glanced upon coats of arms with different coloured fields, animals or objects.
Dany was not familiar with most of the heraldry of the Houses of Westeros, but it did not matter.
Her kin took a short look at the description and crude sketches of the sigil, and recognition dawned in the eyes.

“House Tarbeck”, each of her kin spoke at the same time, with finality and disbelief.

“Is there a captain of the City Watch that hails from House Tarbeck?” Lady Laena asked the Princess.

Princess Rhaenyra, considered the question for a moment, before slowly nodding. “I believe he is the Captain of the Iron Gate.”

Lady Laena stroked her chin as she considered the information, “Which could explain how he has been able to take people outside of the city with little difficulty.”

“He’s not one of mine”, The Prince stated bluntly, “He must have been appointed in my absence.”

He gave the Princess a disapproving glare, which Princess Rhaenyra returned. “I don’t appoint the Captain’s of the City Watch, Daemon.”

Prince Daemon opened his mouth to reply, but stopped as the Princess continued to speak. “Nor, do I oversee their duties. None of this...", She gestured sharply at the ledger ,"has been reported to the small council.”

“Then I suppose it’s time that changes. When we return, I suggest the good Captain should receive a surprise inspection.” Lady Laena looked pointedly at her husband.

Prince Daemon grinned, “My loyal hounds will see to it. When we find what we are looking for, I will personally drag them before the King, so that they might answer for their crimes.”

“You have our thanks, Your Grace. I can assure you that by the time you arrive in King’s Landing, the City Watch will be thoroughly…inspected.” The Princess assured Dany as diplomatically as possible, though she likely meant more than the word implied.

“Might we take these descriptions with us, before we depart for the Red Keep, so that we may find who is responsible for these terrible crimes?” Lady Laena asked, as she gestured at the papers in-front of her.

“Of course.” Dany readily agreed. “If you agree to include this discussion as part of our agreement between our two kingdoms.”

“Is it truly so important to you?” The Prince raised an eyebrow, curious.

“I dislike Slavery.” Was all Dany had to say on the matter.

He glanced around the room at her people, in faux surprise. While Princess Rhaenyra’s and Lady Laena’s eyes seemed to assess her carefully from head to toe, before nodding with approval.
The Prince was more indifferent in his own assessment, eyes seemingly more indifferent than scrutinising, but he too gave Dany a single nod, “Very well, it shall be done.”
Dany carefully dipped her quill into the ink in-front of her and quietly began to draft a document detailing all of the conditions and agreements that had been discussed thus far.

 

She kept writing as Princess Rhaenyra began to speak again.
“Speaking of King’s Landing.” The Princess paused to take a sip of her wine. “Upon your arrival, your dragons are welcome to stay in the dragonpit for the duration of your stay in King’s Landing.”

Her quill paused slightly, before Dany continued to write.
“The Dragonpit?” Dany asked with a sliver of dread in her voice, though she tried to hide it.
She had heard of the Dragonpit before, from her brother Viserys and Ser Barristan. It was a cavernous building where the dragons of House Targaryen dwelt long ago. She also heard that the dragons who resided in the pit never reached the size of their ancestors, that their growth was inhibited by the walls around them, though of course this was only therorised after the last of the dragons passed.

She knew that this offer was meant as a reassurance, that her dragon’s would be well cared for during her stay in Westeros.
…But all she could remember was Meereen.

“It is a grand structure, built by the old king Jaehaerys, to house all the royal dragons of House Targaryen.” The Princess continued proudly, fortunately oblivious to Dany’s inner turmoil. “All of the Dragons and Dragon eggs that dwell within the pit are heavily guarded and well provided for by the Dragonkeepers. Your dragons will want for nothing, and be provided with anything they might require.”

Dany knew that she should accept.
To do otherwise, could risk everything.
It would be selfish.
So very, very selfish to decline.
The offer of sanctuary could be withdrawn.
Her children would have to find a safe place elsewhere.
Her distant kin would likely look upon her with more caution and perhaps hostility.
…But she couldn’t. She just couldn’t.
What her children required was the open sky and their wings, not darkness and chains.

“My Princess, I thank you for this most generous offer”. The Princess’s chest puffed up slightly with pride, smiling. Before Dany continued, “But sadly, I must decline.”

Princess Rhaenyra’s shoulders slumped, her expression now a mixture of confusion and concern, though she still attempted to smile through it.
“Whatever for? I can assure you that your dragons will be well protected and provided for. You would not be prohibited from visiting them and the Dragonkeepers could begin construction of a saddle so that you might go riding.” She said, trying to reassure Dany.

“My Dragons would not be used to such an environment. I fear that they might react poorly.” Dany explained gently.
Though she firmly believed that would be an understatement.

Prince Daemon, who had been relatively quiet, spoke up. “Are they wild dragons?”

Wild?
Dany supposed that was one way of describing her dragons.
But couldn’t all dragons be described as such?
After all a dragon was not a creature that could be domesticated.
Bonded with, yes.
Tamed, no.
Her children listened to her, because she was their mother, but that did not mean that her children mindlessly obeyed her.

After a moment Dany replied, “No. They are free.”

Each of her kin gave her a strange look, as if they weren't sure what to make of her statement.

“...Would they stay in the Dragonpit if you commanded them to?” The Princess asked almost reluctantly, as if she already knew what the answer would be, but had to ask the question anyway.

Dany had led Viserion into the depths of the great pyramid to feast on several oxen; once he had gorged himself and fell into a slumber, she had chained him to the wall herself.
Rhaegel had heard brother’s rage and had fought back, burning six men before he was eventually dragged underneath the great pyramid chained, alongside his brother.
Drogon had long since fled.

Dany remembered as her children had yanked at their chains, burned the walls, scrabbled against the scorched stone, and attempted to fly towards her before their iron collars caused them to crash into the ground.
How they had let out terrible shrieks and roars of rage, and fear and despair.
She remembered.
Never again.

“No, they would not. They would burn the doors of the Dragonpit to ash, before flying off in pursuit of greener pastures.” Dany answered with surety.

The Princess looked disappointed and mayhaps a tad distressed but did not look surprised at Dany’s answer.
Nor did Lady Laena or Prince Daemon.

“The King would likely say that your Dragons roaming the skies would cause panic amongst the smallfolk. He might order you to have them confined in the Dragonpit.” Lady Laena, tentatively explained.

The King is welcome to try and force my children into the Dragonpit himself, Dany thought to herself. Though she chose to say a more diplomatic response aloud, “I believe the king would have better luck ordering the sun to cease rising in the sky or commanding the incoming tides to halt and go no further. Even if my Dragons are confined to the Dragonpit, they will inevitably force their way out. Which I do believe would be rather inconvenient for everyone involved.”

The Princess let out a sigh, not of disappointment but more like resignation. She took another sip of her wine, while glancing between Prince Daemon and Lady Laena, taking part in an unspoken conversation. When she finished, she placed her glass back on the table. “...Are any of your dragons particularly aggressive?”.

“Not unless either they or myself are threatened.” Dany replied.

Princess Rhaenyra nodded as she considered Dany’s reply. She stared at Dany, her eyes full of focus, trying to route out any deception in her statement. Her glass twisted back and forth in her fingers atop the table. Finally she turned her gaze to the other side of the table. “What do you think of this? Daemon? Laena?”

Prince Daemon shrugged, unconcerned. “My brother will be displeased”.

Princess Rhaenyra raised an eyebrow. “They will all be displeased, but there is little they can do about it.”, her tone unimpressed.

The Lady spoke her opinion next, a touch more concerned than her husband. “It is well known that not all dragons reside in the Dragonpit. The dragons ‘Vermithor’ and ‘Silverwing’ have not dwelled there since the end of the reign of the old King.”

“My brother knows this as well.” Prince Daemon conceded, before continuing. “But that may not be enough to convince him. Though they may not reside in the Dragonpit, they do reside on Dragonstone, with Dragonkeepers nearby to tend to them and calm them if need be. Besides, they are riderless dragons not wild dragons, that difference alone would give his Grace cause for hesitation.”, the Prince warned.

“There are other dragons who have never had riders that also do not reside in the Dragonpit. ‘The Grey Ghost’ and ‘The Cannibal’”. The Princess objected, counting each dragon with her fingers.

Lady Laena’s expression pinched slightly, “I doubt comparing any of her Grace's dragons to ‘The Cannibal’ will be a vote of confidence, cousin.”

Princess Rhaenyra’s cheeks turned a light pink, her fingers fiddled with each other, though she did not look away from the conversation.

“Well.” The Prince started with a cheeky smirk, “Considering that none of her Grace’s dragons attempted to eat any of ours.” He paused deliberately, “I believe we have sufficient evidence to suggest that any comparison to ‘The Cannibal’s’ diet is unfounded”.

Lady Laena and Princess Rhaenyra, both appeared unimpressed by the Prince’s dramatics. The Princess coughed lightly before she spoke again, her cheek’s no longer flushed. “Likening her Grace’s dragons to ‘The Grey Ghost’, may be enough to convince my father to leave them be.”

“Mayhaps. But it will not be enough for many others, Rhaenyra. Whether you like it or not, the Lord’s will have many words to say about foreign dragons roaming freely about the realm.” Lady Laena implored.

Prince Daemon crossed his arms, as he smirked. “Well those Lords are welcome to try to chain the little Queen’s dragons in the Dragonpit themselves. It would be an amusing sight.”

Princess Rhaenyra’s lips quirk up, no doubt imagining such a situation.
The Lady merely shook her head side to side, her eyes mildly amused, but elsewise exasperated, “This will not end well.”

“Please enlighten me, on any ideas you may have ,cousin.” The Princess looked almost desperately at Lady Laena. “I know the Lords will talk and there may be some panic amongst the common folk. But I see no other way. We have agreed to grant her Grace and her people sanctuary, and her dragons will follow her. We can not have one without the other.”

“Well-” Prince Daemon began to speak, smirking.

Who was quickly interrupted by his niece, glaring at him. “We swore to grant her Grace and her people sanctuary Daemon, would you have us become oathbreakers?” She asked, sarcastically.

The Prince’s face attempted to draw up an expression of contemplation, which was broken by the smirk attempting to appear. “Technically, we have not sworn any oaths yet.”

“Cease being pedantic Uncle, it does not suit you.” Princess Rhaenyra squinted her eyes at her uncle with scrutiny, as she shook her head side to side.

“Daemon.” Was all Lady Laena said, a clear warning.

Prince Daemon, enjoying their frustration, threw his hands up in mock surrender. Still smirking, amused.

“The King may be persuaded to turn a blind eye to your dragons…free natures. However, we can only do so much, it is likely you will have to convince his Grace, yourself. In due time.” The Princess explained.

“Very well.” Dany answered, her voice was neutral, though she was secretly relieved.

Lady Leana continued after Princess Rhaenyra. “His Grace, will likely ask you to give your word, that you will compensate any farmers whose livestock is…reduced due to your dragons.”

There was a similar arrangement in place in Meereen, one that she found to be reasonable given the circumstances, “That is agreeable.”

“...But I must warn you. There will be scrutiny. If it is proven that either your or your dragons are found to be acting against the interest, safety and security of the crown…the full might of House Targaryen will be mobilised.” Princess Rhaenyra warned, her voice devoid of any humor, as her eyes seemed to stare into Dany’s soul. Her eyes burned the warning onto her very skin.

Dany swallowed as she answered. “...I understand.”

How could she not?
Dragons were wondrous creatures, fire made flesh.
…Which made them equally as dangerous.

Her kin were already taking a rather calculated risk, granting her sanctuary in the seven kingdoms.
Granting her sanctuary, with three unknown dragons?
It was a wonder they were practical and understanding enough, to not demand her children’s immediate incarceration in the Dragonpit.
It was even more of a wonder that they had not yet rescinded the offer of sanctuary.
Dany understood that this condition was non-negotiable, if her dragons were to be granted the freedom to roam about, they were expected to behave themselves.
…Or at least behave themselves as much as a dragon could.
Which meant the responsibility landed squarely upon her shoulders.

While this was not a new responsibility, there were now new consequences.
Her children had never fought against other dragons.
Dany did not want to find out how successful they would be in that regard.
This was a compromise, a generous compromise.
One that she had to agree to.

She nodded once, before continuing to write the agreed upon conditions on the paper in-front of her.

 

After she finished writing, she placed the quill down carefully before lacing her fingers together, her palms resting atop the cool wooden surface of the table.“My Princess. I hope that you know that my Dragons are not the only ones who will journey with me to Westeros?”

“Yes.” Princess Rhaenyra nodded. “You requested sanctuary for not only yourself, but for your people as well. This need not change, though perhaps your people can be hosted somewhere closer to King’s Landing? Or perhaps inside the city proper?”

“I would be most grateful if such arrangements could be made, My Princess.” Dany answered sincerely.

“Of course. Though I do have to ask, how many are expected to make the journey with you to Westeros, Your Grace? And how many of your ships should we be expecting to enter our harbour?” The Princess questioned.

Dany thought that these were appropriate questions given the logistics of the situation.
“All fifty of my ships will be used to transport all ten thousand men, women and children to Westeros, My Princess.”

“Ten-Ten thousand?!” Her kin’s eyes all widened at once, so much so that she was worried that they would bulge out of their sockets.
Dany supposed that they were not expecting such a high number.

Given that Prince Daemon let out a string of curses in Valyrian under his breath, detailing his extreme confusion as to how so many people and ships could be gathered in one place with so little notice, she believed she had guessed correctly.

Princess Rhaenyra’s mouth just repeated the number “Ten-thousand”, over and over again, though no words left her lips. Eventually her glazed eyes laid upon her half full glass of wine before taking a large sip and muttering that she needed more wine.

Lady Laena sat in stunned silence, one of her hands rubbing her head trying to wipe away the headache that was no doubt forming, due to realising the logistics of the present situation.
Eventually she managed to gather her words and asked in an incredulous tone, “Could King’s Landing support such an influx?”

Prince Daemon did not look at his wife as he answered, “Over time? Yes. All at once? With so many mouths to feed that have the crown’s favour?” He let out a small huff of bitter laughter, “There would be riots in the streets”.

He took a deep drink of his wine, before he turned to face his niece and his wife. “The Red Keep can easily host her Grace, and an entourage of her servants and retainers. But it would not be able to host all ten thousand of her people, for such an extended period of time. Some could find work in King’s Landing, but the majority would have to stay elsewhere.” Prince Daemon explained.

“Elsewhere. And where would elsewhere be?” Princess Rhaenyra asked, frustration gathering in her voice.

Lady Laena thought for a moment before answering, her tone unlike the Princess was rather calm and methodical. “It must be somewhere relatively nearby, but self-sufficient enough to support such a large influx of people.”

Princess Rhaenyra inhaled, before exhaling a deep breath. Taking a moment before she explained her thoughts aloud, “Dragonstone is closeby, however I fear it would be ill-equipped to sustain such a large influx of people, especially for long periods of time. It would be a struggle with just a thousand people, let alone ten-thousand.”

The Prince nodded, like he had expected something similar. “What about Driftmark? Would Lord Corlys be amenable to hosting so many?” He asked Lady Laena.

Lady Laena, bit the inside of her check in consideration before she shook her head as she answered. “While my Father would likely agree to host some of her Grace’s entourage, I do not believe that Driftmark would be equipped to sustain so many people for so long.”

“...Perhaps Claw isle?” Lady Laena reluctantly asked after a moment, practically wincing, as if it was painful to even speak of.

The Prince snorted, “No.”

“No.” The Princess did not laugh as she agreed with her Uncle. Her expression grew pinched as she rubbed her forehead in an attempt to alleviate her apparent headache. “I have my doubts as to whether Lord Bartimos would even be willing to entertain such an idea.”

Lady Laena’s eyes searched for a solution, her expression brightening as she came across one. “...Perhaps Duskendale?”

Duskendale.
Dany had heard the name before, from her brother Viserys and from Ser Barristan as well.
Both had told her the story of the ‘Defiance of Duskendale’ and surprisingly both versions of the story had been fairly similar…at least in the beginning.
She had learnt that Duskendale was a large port town located north of King’s Landing, one that had been in steady decline as its wealth and trade dwindled due to the growth and proximity of King’s Landing.
It dwindled to the point that during her father’s reign, the Lord of Duskendale had tried to propose a new charter for Duskendale, to alleviate his declining House’s plight. When the Hand of the King had rejected the proposal, the Lord had ceased to pay his taxes out of fury, and instead conspired a plot to restore his House to its former glory.

Both her brother and Ser Barristan spoke of a ploy to lure her father, King Aerys, to Duskendale under false pretenses.
From there, his guards were slain and the King was taken captive, to be used as a tool for bargaining for better terms.
Though Dany was not sure what use the Lord would have for better terms of trade, when he would have been facing charges of treason.

Duskendale was besieged for half a year, the defenders unable to leave and the besieging host unable to attack in fear of retaliation against the King.
The Defiance of Duskendale had only ended when Ser Barristan himself volunteered to rescue the King himself.
Ser Barristan had scaled walls, sneaked through streets and freed her father. Before finding a horse and charging out of the closing castle gates, protecting the King, despite being wounded.

It was not often that she agreed with her brother, but when he spoke of the tale of their father’s rescue, his eyes would light up with admiration and wonder like a little boy. Dany could not help but agree. A brave knight, performing a daring rescue, to save his king. It was like a story of legend and fantasy had come to life.
Though when Ser Baristan had told the tale, he merely said that he was doing his duty.

Sadly, that was the end of the similarities between her brother’s version of events and Ser Barristan’s.
The wonder in her brother's eyes had turned to something darker, and more gleeful as he spoke of the aftermath.
After the King had been rescued, the Lord of Duskendale had surrendered, no longer having a hostage to forestall a siege.
Though the Lord begged for mercy, all of his immediate and distant kin was executed for charges of treason.
Such was the price for defying the dragon, her brother would say.
Dany knew what the Lord had done was treason, and that some of his kin had likely supported such a decision.
But to completely destroy an entire House?
Even the little children?
It reminded her too much of the Usurper, too much of her own House.
It horrified her.

Ser Barristan’s telling had been different from her brother’s.
He had been vague about the details of the aftermath, but what he did share was done so with a heartbreaking sadness.
He too knew that the Lord and some of his immediate family would likely be executed for charges of treason.
But he believed that the execution of the entire house was too extreme a measure.
His only consolidation was that he had been able to successfully convince the besiegers to spare the life of a young child, who belonged to a vassal House who had aided in the Defiance.

…But these events had yet to occur.
And perhaps they wouldn’t need to?

Princess Rhaenyra sits up slightly straighter, a smile forming on her face as she nods slowly. “I could ask Ser Steffon to write to Lord Darklyn, to see if he would be agreeable to such a suggestion.”

“And he will accept?” The Prince asked, seemingly genuine in his questioning.

The Princess gave her uncle a blank look. “He is more likely to accept than Lord Celtigar. Besides-” She tapped the table in front of her. “Lord Darklyn is a loyal servant of the realm. If my father commanded him to, he would host the majority of her Grace’s people.” She spoke with complete assurance.

Lady Laena was less confident, “Would he be able to support them for so long?”

“For a time. Though with more mouths to feed, he will most likely begin to raise the price of food. Or begin to charge her Grace a fee directly to supplement the gold needed to support so many people.” Prince Daemon plainly stated.

The Princess sighed heavily, “Where else would you suggest, Uncle?”

Prince Daemon’s face grew serious, as he considered each of the other options. “Though Rosby is closeby to King's Landing, it is too inland, and has no place for ships. The same can be said for Castle Stokeworth and The Antlers. Neither Stonedance, Sharp Point nor Rook's rest have ports for her Grace’s ships.” With each name spoken, Prince Daemon counted them off on his fingers. “This is all discounting the fact that all of them would struggle to accommodate so many people all at once, let alone feed them.”

The Prince paused as he took a long drink of his wine, before he continued his methodical explanation.
“Maidenpool would have the capacity to host so many people, and its harbour is large enough for her Grace’s ships. But it is further away than Duskendale, and like Lord Darklyn, Lord Mooten would eventually start to raise the price of food or charge her Grace a fee to supplement the necessary gold needed to keep so many people fed.”

“...So given all the circumstances, Duskendale is our best option?” Princess Rhaenyra asked her Uncle.

“Yes.” Prince Daemon replied, as he nodded.

“So the only real questions are whether Lord Darklyn will agree to act as a host and what price he means to charge, and we can not answer the latter until we know the answer to the former.” Lady Laena said, as she swirled her glass of wine.

Princess Rhaenyra lets out a hum of consideration before she turns to face Dany. “Considering the current circumstances, after you make the journey to Dragonstone, not all of your ships will be able to follow you to King’s Landing. With so many people entering the city all at once there is a risk of…discontent amongst the common folk. We believe it would be in the best interests of all if most of your ships journeyed to Duskendale, a port town to the north of King’s Landing.”

“I have heard of such a place.” Dany answered, mildly.

The Princess gave her a relieved smile, before her expression became more serious. “The Lord of Duskendale, Lord Darklyn, will agree to host your people at the request of the crown…However, it is likely that he will begin to charge a…small fee to supplement the gold needed to host so many.” She spoke the last part hesitantly.

Dany tilted her head slightly, “A small fee, you say?”, she asked innocently.

“Yes. But if you would like, I can arrange for Lord Darklyn to travel to Dragonstone to meet with you in person to discuss the necessary details.” Princess Rhaenyra offered.

Dany smiled gently. “I would be grateful for your consideration, My Princess. Though I do have a question, I hope you may be able to answer.”

Her kin’s faces were a mixture of bemusement and intrigue as the Princess gestured for Dany to continue.

“Would Lord Darklyn be amenable to other forms of payment, other than gold?” She asked curiously.

Princess Rhaenyra, Prince Daemon and Lady Laena quickly glanced at each other in confusion and curiosity before the Lady tentatively answered Dany’s question. “I suppose it would depend upon the type of payment and its value, Your Grace. Do you mean to sell some of your goods to him?”

“In a sense, though I do believe he will be interested in what I plan to offer.” She moved the paper containing the details of the informal agreement aside for a blank piece of paper. As she dipped her quill into the ink, she glanced up for a moment, “Please, excuse me for a moment”.

As the sound of quill on paper filled the air, Dany felt the incredulous stares of her kin burning into her, though her hand only ever paused her writing to gather more ink for her quill.
She writes and thinks of her people, both past, present and future.
She writes and thinks of Duskendale’s defiance.
She writes and thinks of their desperation, their rage, their pride, their foolishness.
She writes as she thinks about her father.
She writes as she thinks about the child, the one that Ser Barristan asked to be scared.
Dany writes…and decides that it need not be.

With a final flourish of her quill, ‘Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen’ is displayed proudly at the bottom of the page, and the letter is signed
Wordlessly she turns the letter around for her kin to read.

Each leaned over, perplexed eyes growing wider and wider with each line read.
After they had finished reading, each of her kin’s eyes slowly rose to meet hers.
Eyes full of approval, pride, and disbelief.

Dany just smiled, as she lightly tapped the letter in front of her. “Do you suppose this might interest Lord Darklyn?”

“If it doesn’t, he would be a fool.” Prince Daemon murmured under his breath.

“Yes, your Grace.” Princess Rhaenrya answered, an amused smile on her face. “I believe that this offer would be of great interest to him and I will personally ensure that your letter will be delivered to him. Additionally, Lord Darklyn will be invited as part of the court to travel to Dragonstone for your visit. Perhaps you might discuss this offer in person? As well as the finer details of our agreement, with Lord Beesbury.”

“Very well.” Dany replied, as she slid the letter to one side to replace it with the agreement. As she picked up her quill she rhetorically asked, “Shall I include this as part of our agreement?”

With nods of agreement, Dany wrote down the next condition of the agreement.
“Now, is there anything else-”

Her voice was cut off by a knock at the cabin door.

“Were you expecting anyone, Your Grace?” Prince Daemon asked Dany, though she could tell that he was only half-joking as one of his hands was currently resting casually on the pommel of his sword. While both knights of the King’s guard half-turned so that they could prepare, if necessary.

Which it was not.

Dany took a quick glance out of one of the cabin’s windows, already suspecting why someone knocked on the door of the cabin.
They had spent so much time in the cabin, debating and discussing that the bright afternoon sun had dimmed to a glowing sunset.
The once bright blue sky had begun to dim, the sun had transformed from a bright yellow to an orange glow. The horizon was painted a mixture of scarlet red, dusky orange, sun set yellow and pale blue as the sun descended further towards the ocean.
Soon to disappear below the waves in a myriad of colours.

“Enter.” Dany called out.

The door slowly opened to reveal a woman, standing there.
She was an older woman, skin wrinkled and sun-browned, with the beginnings of grey roots emerging from her dark hair.
Her hands and fingers were covered in calluses, from years upon years of weaving.
She wore a simple skirt and blouse, the only jewellery she wore was a brand that decorated her neck.
She had made no attempt to hide the brand, once it had been armour, now it was a battle scar she proudly wore.
A reminder of what she had survived.

The Prince and the two knights subtly relaxed, as the woman began to speak.
“Please excuse me, your Grace. I thought you’d want to know that supper is about to be served.” She informed Dany in the sultry Valyrian of Myr.
At the mention of food her stomach rumbled with hunger. They had rationed their food supply by only eating two meals a day, which was still more than what had been given to them by their former masters.
One meal was for the morning, later than when most people broke their fast but earlier than luncheon. The other meal was served much later in the day, when the sun was near setting.

The older woman glanced at each of Dany’s kin before continuing, “...Forgive me your Grave, will you and your guests be dining here or outside?”

An excellent question, one that Dany would also like to know the answer to.

“Thank you, Tala.” She replied in the same tongue, eyes snapping to her in surprise. “As for supper tonight, I shall dine with my guests, wherever their preference may be.”

“As you say, Your Grace.” The older woman, Tala, bowed and waited by the entrance of the cabin.
Lady Laena looked at Dany with curiosity, like Dany was many pieces of a puzzle she was trying to piece together “...You are familiar with the tongue of the free cities.”
It was not a question.

Dany shrugged her shoulders slightly, “I spent a fair amount of time there when I was younger.”

“Where? In which of the free cities did you reside in?” Princess Rhaenrya asked, leaning forward from her chair with genuine curiosity.

It made sense that she would want to know where an unknown dragonrider had previously resided.
Though Dany could admit that she had not expected the Princess’s eagerness.

“...When I was younger I lived in Braavos," Dany answered quietly, with a small smile.
The house with the red door, the one she and Viserys had lived in under the care of Ser William Darry. She even had her own room there, one with a lemon tree outside of her window.
Dany wondered if the house with the red door still stood in this time and place, even if it was closed to her.
“...However, due to certain circumstances our time there was short-lived. We traveled often and wandered the different free cities, though we never stayed in one place for too long.”

“We?” The Princess questioned, confusion clear on her face.

“...My brother and I.” Dany replied softly.

“...And…where is your brother now?” Lady Laena asked hesitantly.

Dany’s voice was somber as she spoke of Viserys.“...He passed away some time ago, My Lady.”

Lady Laena covered her mouth with one hand as she let out a muted gasp, “Oh”. Her eyes were full of sorrow.

Princess Rhaenyra looked taken aback, back straight, looking at Dany with a mixture of shock and sadness. “I am so sorry for your loss, your Grace.”, she murmured.

“Thank you for your condolences, My Princess.” Dany spoke the words with a polite tone,
though she wished that the Princess and the Lady would not look upon her with such pity.

Prince Daemon didn't appear to be shocked or sorrowful, rather he seemed to be indifferent to the news…but there was something in his eyes that gave Dany pause, something that told her he wasn’t as indifferent as he portrayed.
He stared at Dany for a moment, before quietly uttering “...I see.” ,and taking another deep drink of his wine.
She appreciated the fact that the Prince at least had not given her pity filled glances.

Dany did not wish to speak of her brother’s death, nor did she wish to speak or even remember everything else she had lost.
Dany took a small sip from her cup, before she addressed her kin with a polite, but apparently sad smile given the Princess’s and Lady’s pity filled gazes. “The hour grows late, you must be exhausted and hungry from your journey. If our business is concluded, should you wish, I can arrange for supper to be brought to you and accommodations for you to rest.”

If Princess Rhaenyra was perturbed by the abrupt change of topic, she thankfully did not voice it. She merely blinked, before her taken aback expression transformed into a polite smile. Though her blue-lilac eyes still gave away some of what she was feeling.
“Do we have anything more to discuss?”

Lady Laena’s mouth was still covered, though the use of Valyrian caused her to jolt slightly as she remembered her surroundings. She dropped her hand, to instead lace her fingers together on the table.
“Nothing else comes to mind, that would be prudent to discuss, cousin.”

Prince Daemon leaned back in his chair as he slowly looked around the table, before his eyes settled on the written agreement and the ledger of paperwork.
“No, we are done here.”, he answered with finality, still glaring at the ledger.

The Princess nodded once, before she turned back to Dany, a pleased smile on her face.“As our business here has concluded, we would be most thankful for your generosity, Your Grace.”

Dany nodded in turn, then picked up her quill to quickly scrawl ‘Daenerys Targaryen’ at the bottom of the page. She returned Princess Rhaenyra’s smile as she handed the paper and quill over to the Princess.
The Princess took the quill and quickly surveyed the document. Finding nothing amiss, she dipped the quill into the ink and scrawled her name on the opposite side of Dany’s.
She slid the paper across the table to Lady Laena and whilst handing her the quill. “Sign, so that the King knows you bore witness to this agreement, and helped arrange it.” The Princess whispered to her kin.

Lady Laena, nodded slightly and picked up the piece of paper. Carefully scanning each word, line after line, making sure not once piece of punctuation was out of place. As she reached the end of the letter, she smiled, and quickly wrote down her name underneath Princess Rhaenyra’s signature.
The Lady moved the paper over, so that her husband might look at it. But Prince Daemon barely glanced at the paper, as he scribbled his signature beneath his wife’s. He pushed it back towards Dany, nodding once.

Dany collected all the loose papers and gently tucked them away within the pages of the ledger, before standing up from her seat, finally able to stretch her legs after sitting still for so long.
Her guests followed suit, subtly stretching their arms and legs while she walked to her desk, where she carefully placed the bundle of precious documents down.

“Will you be dining with us tonight, your Grace?” She could hear Lady Laena ask, whilst her back was turned.

Dany half-turned around to answer, “If you wish, My Lady. I would not wish to impose, should you wish to dine in private.”

“And where would you dine, should we wish for privacy? In this cabin?” Prince Daemon asked, almost sarcastically, as one arm gestured around to the wooden walls. But Dany could hear the words behind the words ‘Where would you dine, if not with us?’ Perhaps it was asked out of curiosity, or the Prince was genuinely confused as to where and why she might eat elsewhere.

“No, My Prince. Should you wish for privacy, I will ask for food and wine to be brought here. I will sup with my people.” Dany tired her head towards the open door of her cabin, behind Tala were the distant sounds of laughter and song all along the beachfront.

Each of her kin’s heads turned towards the door, listening to the distant sounds of cheer and delight, though only for a short time

“...I have grown somewhat weary of this cabin, perhaps some fresh air will do us some good?” Prince Daemon said aloud, though the question towards his wife and niece was clearly rhetorical.

“Daemon?” Lady Laena asked, a small incredulous smile beginning to appear on her face.

The Prince shrugged, but his sly grin betrayed his attempt at nonchalance.

Princess Rhaenyra raised a curious eyebrow, “You would be fine with dining with…less privacy?” She asked as she looked around the cabin.

Prince Daemon spread his arms wide, “Is it a crime to sate one’s curiosity, Niece?” , Prince Daemon asked as he spread his arms wide. “Besides”, his hands dropped down to rest on the pommel of his sword, whilst he relaxed and slouched, “I ate with my gold cloaks often when I was Commander of the City Watch, this will be no different. ”

“These people are not your gold cloaks, Daemon.” Princess Rhaenyra remarked, warningly.

The Prince smiled, though it did not reach his eyes. “How fortunate for them.”

“Uncle-” The Princess started to speak though she was interrupted by her uncle.
“Besides I could ask you the same question, Niece. Will you be fine dining without the sycophant courtiers that so oft surround you?” The question was sarcastic, almost spoken as a challenge for the Princess to dare to face.

Princess Rhaenyra smiled, though it was strained, and the skin around her eyes was tight. “I dare say it shall be a refreshing experience, perhaps better than what you last suggested Uncle.” The last sentence was spoken pointedly.

Dany wondered what experience the Princess spoke of.
Whatever it was, it clearly had left…an impression.
One that she did not look kindly on her Uncle for.

Prince Daemon was still smiling slyly, though it looked more of a half-grimace, as if he was attempting not to wince.
After a short pause Lady Laena dryly remarked, “I also believe it shall be a refreshing experience husband, perhaps even more if everyone acts civilly towards our gracious host”, whilst she side-eyed both her husband and her cousin.
Both of whom seemed to understand the underlying message, ‘Any past grievances should be discussed elsewhere’.

The Princess winced, appearing somewhat embarrassed as she fiddled with the invisible rings on her fingers, but nodded in agreement. Whilst the Prince sighed and crossed his arms with a slight huff, like a cat who had been chastised for knocking over a vase, but he did not argue against his wife.
The Lady seemed pleased by this response, with her hands clasped in front of her, she turned to face Dany with a gentle smile, “If you would not mind your Grace, we would be delighted to join you for your evening meal.”

“And I would be delighted by your company, My Lady” ,Dany smiled in turn.

She turned to face the older woman who still stood by the door, speaking in the sultry tone of Myr, “Tala, my guests are curious about those who reside in Dragon’s cove and have thus decided to dine outside with me tonight. Please could you ensure that three bowls are set aside?”

If Tala was surprised by her request, she did not show it and instead continued to smile warmly.
“Of Course, Your Grace.” She bowed slightly before she turned and left through the door of the cabin, slowly walking towards the distant sounds of cheer and singing.

Dany went to follow her, drawn to the sound of her children’s happiness.
Walking past her kin with Ser Davos, as he fell in step with her. Until she reached the threshold of the cabin door.
She turned around to her guests, each still eyeing her with anticipation and fascination.
Dany smiled as she gestured towards the open door, towards the distant lights that dotted the beach and the sounds of laughter.
“Shall, we?”

Notes:

Fun fact I rewrote this thing like 8 times since I didn't know how to make it informative and entertaining, without sounding too repetitive or OOC.
Might have failed somewhat on the later, but in time hopefully I will improve.
I did plan to add more to this chapter, though after reading it so many times, I really just wanted to post something. 😭

 

List of comparisons between Daemon and a cat:
- Will give you dead creatures as a form of affection.
- Will stare at you dead in the face as they knock over a breakable object from a table.
- Sneaks out of a window and comes back a few days later with some wild stories.
- Decides that one person is "their person" and is ride or die.
- Says that they don't want affection and attention but gets upset when another person is given attention or affection.
- Hisses at people.

 

The Targs: *Arguing at any point*
Dany: "Oooohhh" *Pulls out popcorn* "Drama".

Targs: "So what is your plan exactly?"
Dany: *Slams books and blueprints on to table* "I am so glad that you asked."

 

The Cargyll twins, Ser Davos and the other guards:
Arryk: *Blinks in ASOIAF morse code* "5 silvers that Prince Daemon will throw his chair."
Erryk: *Blinks back* "10, that he will flip the whole table."
Ser Davos: *Joins in* "15, that he will kill someone."
Un-named Guard 1: *Blinks rapidly* "Now???"
Ser Davos: "No! Later." *Gestures with head between Angry Prince and large ledger.*
The twins and Un-named Guard 1: That's a suckers bet.
Un-named Guard 1: *Blinks at other un-named guard* "What are you betting on?"
Un-named Guard 2: "Bitch I'm broke."

Chapter 5: A Small Meal

Summary:

Dany shares a small meal with her kin before finishing her duties for the day.
Her guests continue to be confused and surprised.

Notes:

From a 6 month wait, to a 3 month wait for a new chapter, I'd say that's an improvement.

Not sure when I'll be posting the next chapter since I'm going back to Uni soon, and there are some other IRL things that have been going on.
But I'll try my best.

Anyway, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this new chapter!

The smell of salt permeated the evening air and clung to Dany like a second skin as she walked along the wooden walkway. The sound of footsteps were muffled by the gentle crashing of waves against the wooden stilts of the port, as Dany, her guests and their small entourage of guards made their way further inland.

This far away from the shoreline the ships surrounding them were manned only by the wind and the creaking sounds of wood, as the waves lapped at their hulls, rocking them back and forth like a mother would her babe.
As they kept walking, Dany began to see small signs of life.
A few lone sailors finishing their final duties for the day and small groups of guards patrolling along the walkways of the port.
Small lanterns dotted along the walkways, lighting the way towards the shoreline.

The further they travelled towards the shoreline, the louder and clearer the sounds of voices became.
The dim lights that she had seen from the open cabin door grew brighter and brighter with each step taken, until at last they reached the end of the main wooden walkway, and arrived at the beach of Dragon’s cove.
Dany heard the sounds of hitched breaths behind her, as the group stopped at the precipice, to take in the sight before them.

The lights that dotted the beach from a distance were actually a mixture of fire pits, braziers, and small fires that were scattered all across the beach.
Clusters of people surrounded each fire source; eating, drinking, praying, talking and laughing.
Children giggled as they made a game of darting between different fire sources, dodging and weaving around other children whose goal was to tag those who attempted to pass through the shadows before they reached the next light source.
The more inebriated of her people watched and cheered the children on, as they made their daring escape through the shadows.
Whilst others called out that their supper was growing colder by the minute, which caused many a child to call a temporary truce as they spirited towards their respective guardians and their still-warm bowls of food.

Suspended above the various sources of fire were an odd combination of kettles, cooking bowls and small cauldrons.
Some leaned over the cooking pots, stirring the contents whilst it boiled, patiently waiting for it to finish cooking.
Others passed around ladles to be dipped into the broth and poured into each of their respective bowls.
A small gust of wind carried the smell of the freshly cooked broth, and various spices towards her, causing Dany’s stomach to rumble in hunger as she unconsciously licked her lips.

The longer Dany and her guests stood still, the more people took notice.
Some of her children waved and called out to her in greeting, whilst others were more quiet in their acknowledgement, raising their cups to her or nodding in approval before returning to their meals.
Though she did notice that a few eyes continued to linger upon her…or rather linger on those who stood behind her.
Eyes that were full of caution and distrust, nothing overtly hostile, but nothing particularly welcoming either.
She would have to find a way to address it.
Her guests had agreed to offer her people sanctuary, and Dany had no wish for bad blood and paranoia to result in…harsh consequences.

Dany didn’t expect the sense of suspicion to disappear overnight, nor many moons from now.
Why would she?
They did not know what to expect.
…And in a sense, neither did she.
Everything was so different.
They were so different.
It was not as if she had never negotiated with those who sat in a position of power, but never had that person been a member of her own kin, no matter how distant.
The only thing she had learned to expect from the only other member of her family that she had ever known, was fear and pain.

And though her guests' conversations had given Dany some confidence in the sincerity of their words…she still put more trust in deeds.

…Still, she decided that she would put her trust in them.
While the pain of betrayal was not an unfamiliar feeling, it was still painful all the same.
Dany could only hope that her trust was not misplaced.

Dany briefly glanced over her shoulder, to look upon the faces of those she hoped she could trust.

Prince Daemon scanned up and down the length of the beach, his gaze was one of assessment, analysing any possible threats that could befall him or his kin.
But not long after his sharp gaze softened slightly, his head tilted to the side as his gaze shifted from one of assessment to one of fascination and puzzlement. As if wondering how the sight before him came to be.

Lady Laena’s eyes followed the small children who still darted between the fires, watched as they were called away and given a bowl of food upon arrival, watched as everyone filled their stomachs and told their stories.
Her expression was one of contemplation, but her eyes held a quiet sort of awe, seeing the many clusters that dotted along the beach.

Princess Rhaenyra’s eyes were wide with bewilderment, her jaw dropped open slightly for a moment, before she let out a huff of amused laughter. Her lips twitched upwards into a small smile as she gazed along the length of the beach in amazement.

“I did not expect it to be so…”, the Princess’s voice trailed off, trying to find the words that could describe the sight before her.

“Warm?” Dany suggested, looking up at the Princess with a small smile.

The Princess nodded, though her eyes had not stopped staring at the sights around her..

“...My children have been denied the freedom to experience such warmth for a long time, My Princess.” Dany answered sadly, “Now that they are free, they can now indulge to their heart's content, without fear of reprimand.”

Dany’s words caused Princess Rhaenyra’s eyes to break away from the beach to look at Dany instead, her voice almost like a lost child’s, “...How poorly were they treated, for such simple things to bring them so much joy?”

Dany could only hope that her expression did not betray her incredulousness at the Princess’s naivety.
To ask how well slavers treated those they viewed as their own personal property, was an oxymoron of an enquiry.
To enjoy such ‘simple things’ was a rarity during the duration of her children’s enslavement, overshadowed by fear and dread.
How naive could her kin be to such a truth?

…Then again…had she not been the same once?
While Dany had lived in Braavos, in the house with the red door, she had travelled and lived in most of the other free cities as well.
She had known, intellectually, about slavery.
…But knowing something, and understanding something are two very different things.
She had never truly understood what slavery truly was, until Astapor.
Ten thousand dead puppies.
Ten thousand dead babes.
…She could not look away once she had seen what she had seen, and heard what she had heard.

Perhaps her kin were the same?
They had lived in Westeros for most of their lives, a place where slavery was not a common fixture of society and was instead decried.
Perhaps they knew intellectually about slavery and what it involved…but they did not truly understand.
…Maybe that could change

Though instead of voicing all her inner thoughts Dany only gave a short response, “It is not a conversation one should have over supper, My Princess.”

Princess Rhaenyra appeared dissatisfied, but did not voice it. Instead nodding purposefully, “At a later time then.” Though the statement was phrased more like a question.

“At a later time.” Dany returned with a nod of her own.

Dany turned her eyes back towards the beach as she scanned the different fires that were scattered across it.
In the evening, it was not unusual for her to eat her supper with her people, after all Dany had often found that eating by herself was a lonesome affair.
While Dany may hold court in the mornings, the same could not be said for the evenings.
She sat wherever her people welcomed her, dining with new faces practically every night.
Dany enjoyed listening and speaking with them, asking tens of questions and always having a hundred more.

Though given the circumstances…Dany quickly glanced between the concerned faces along the beach and the guests and entourage who stood behind her.
…Perhaps she ought to be more selective where she chose to dine tonight?

It was not as if she had not dined with guests before nor was she a stranger to arranging for a feast to be served.
But those she dined with had usually been the Great Masters of Meereen, such as Hizdahr zo Loraq and the Green Grace Galazza Galare, when she hoped to find a way to peacefully resolve the conflict inside Meereen.
After her second wedding nobles from other houses also began to join the feasts, as well as those outside of Meereen such as Xaro Xhoan Daxos, who she had hoped to seek a trade alliance with.

Regardless of the successfulness, or lack thereof, of these feasts she knew what to expect and could plan accordingly.
Unfortunately, Dany had no such frame of reference for her current guests.

She wasn’t in a position to plan and enact a grand welcoming feast, for multiple reasons.
And, save for her brother, she had never dined with any of her kin before.
Of which there were few pleasant experiences that she could remember.
Needless to say, though her kin had decided to join her for supper, Dany could only hope they found the experience delightful rather than perceive it as offensive.

Dany’s trail of thought was suddenly broken by a small voice crying out in Lyesni, “Mother! Mother! Come sit here!”

Somewhat startled, she turned to look in the direction the voice came from.
Little Mya waved at her eagerly with both hands, while her older sister attempted to scold her, while simultaneously glancing at Dany apologetically.
Dany merely smiled, amused, and waved off the sister’s apology.
Though she took a closer look at where the sisters were sitting and smiled for another reason entirely.

The sisters sat with a few others by a fire, which had been built in the centre of a crescent of boulders near the shoreline of the beach.
The smooth rocks lay in such a way that they curved around the fire, sheltering it from any stray gusts of wind.
The crescent of smooth stones was open to shoreline and the length of the beach, providing a view of the cresting waves which broke against the ships at anchor and the open sea beyond them.

In other words, it was an ideal place to sit.
Especially for the Kingsguard knights, who glanced warily around at those who looked at their charges with suspicion and mistrust.

A place that had a small audience, good food, and a small form of protection.
Even if she hoped that the latter wasn’t necessary.

Besides, Little Mya had asked her so nicely, how could she refuse?

Dany started to make her way towards the curved half ring of boulders, weaving in between firepits, and stepping carefully around misplaced bowls, smiling and greeting those she passed. Especially the other children, who pouted and grumbled that she would not be sitting besides them this evening.
She heard the quiet crunching of sand behind her as heavier footsteps followed in her wake towards the crescent of rocks.
Little Mya was practically bouncing in excitement even as her sister, Alia, futilely attempted to calm her.

“Good evening,” Dany spoke from where she had stopped at the edge of the fire’s light. “Might my guests and I join you for supper this evening?”

Her question was met with many stunned expressions, which transformed into eager smiles and assurances.

She laughed lightly at their enthusiasm, “You have my sincere thanks.”

Dany turned around to face her guests, their expressions may have been carefully neutral but she could see the uncertainty and the bewilderment in their eyes.

She gestured around the firepit with her left arm, “My children are quite eager to dine with us this evening. Might you accept their invitation?”

Princess Rhaenyra, still confused and uncertain, opened her mouth to speak before shortly closing it and instead nodding assuredly. Attempting to project more confidence to mask her unsureness of the situation.

Dany carefully side-stepped between those who were sitting close to the fire and the smooth rocks behind them, until she came across an empty space to sit down.
She gently lowered herself down until she was able to comfortably sit cross-legged on the sand, her back against the cool stone behind, which was a sharp contrast to the warm glow of the fire.

Princess Rhaenyra had slowly followed Dany’s footsteps, stopping behind her, as Dany sat down. The Princess appeared at a loss for a moment, her eyes darted around as if she was waiting for a chair to appear from thin air. When such a manifestation did not occur she instead chose to sit down on top of a section of boulders outcropping from the others. She awkwardly adjusted herself on top of her stone seat until she was able to sit in a somewhat comfortable position. Sitting regally with her back straight and her hands resting on top of her knees.

Lady Laena, who shortly followed the Princess, also hesitated for a moment before choosing to gracefully lower herself to sit down next to her kin on top of the smooth stone outcropping. If she felt uncomfortable her expression did not betray her, as she adjusted herself so that both of her legs were pressed together and leaned towards the empty space beside her. The Lady was the picture of grace as she wiped a few specks of sand from her palms.

Prince Daemon was the last of her guests to sit down, unlike his wife and niece who seemed perplexed by the lack of upholstered seating, the Prince showed no visible sign of bewilderment or hesitation. His steps were full of swagger as he dramatically detached his sword’s scabbard from his belt, before he sat down next to his wife on the smooth rock outcropping. He leaned back against the boulder behind him, while his scabbard leaned against his right shoulder and rested in the sand between his legs. One hand was loosely wrapped around the middle of the sword’s scabbard whilst the other rested lazily on his knee.

Though the twin Kingsguard knights had not spoken a word, Dany sensed they were grateful she had chosen to sit where she had. One twin stood guard next to Prince Daemon between the fire and the rocks behind him, while the other twin stood closer to the sea, only a few strides from Princess Rhaenyra. The knights were still alert, standing at guard while assessing their surroundings. But with their charges within reach and with many of their blindspots protected, their postures were more relaxed than before.

In comparison, her own guards were much more casual. Watching from a distance as they took a seat by the fire or as they casually leaned against the half-ring of boulders.

It wasn’t out of laziness.
They and Dany knew that if any attempted to harm her where she sat, they would be descended upon by all those who sat around the fire, and would be swiftly joined by others as well.

 

Little Mya scooted closer, until she was practically a hair-breadth away from Dany’s left side.
Her older sister sat beside her, trying to pretend that she wasn’t amused by the little girl’s antics, though her smile betrayed her.
A few of Dany’s other handmaidens sat with them as well.
Though they had quietened when Dany’s guests had first approached, they began to quietly laugh and chat amongst themselves, as they braided each other’s hair and passed about cups of spring water taken from a nearby water barrel, once they saw that nothing was amiss.

A few times Dany caught them giggling and blushing as they glanced at her kin, especially Prince Daemon who noticed as well, and responded with a charming grin.
Lady Laena gave her husband’s arm a half-reproachful slap, but did not truly seem bothered, just amused.
In fact, none of her kin seemed to be bothered by the extra attention, whether it was from giggling maidens or more curious souls.
They simply sat and observed their surroundings indifferently as they whispered to each other in High Valyrian.

Still it no doubt caused little Mya no small amount of confusion, as to why her sister’s cheeks had turned a darker shade of pink, especially as the fire hadn’t grown any warmer.

There were others that clustered around the fire as well, some faces that Dany recognised, whilst others she was less familiar with.

An old man sat close by to the fire as he carefully whittled a small piece of wood in his weathered hands.
It appeared to be a small boat.
Perhaps he was a sailor?
His hands were lightly rapped with the bottom of an empty bowl by the woman sitting next to him, who looked at him with a stern face and a raised eyebrow, though her lip twitched upwards.
The old man raised his hands in surrender, and though he had lost a few teeth his grin was no less cheeky and joyful.
He gave Dany a playful wink as he set down his half-carved piece and took the bowl from the woman’s hands.

The young woman in question's attention returned to the cauldron hanging above the fire.
She stirred the contents slowly, before she lifted the ladle to her lips to taste a small portion of its mouth watering contents.
Thin lines of ink peaked out from her forehead and on the underside of her jaw that ran across her scalp underneath the short brown fuzz of her hair. The markings ran down the back of her neck, intertwining across her arms, to the very tips of her fingers.
They were neither the markings of creatures often seen on warriors, nor did they seem to denote status, like those given in Volantis.
Instead these tattoos appeared to be almost ritualistic, twisting and turning over each other again and again across the woman’s torso.

The woman nodded in approval at the broth’s taste, deeming it ready to be served.
The broth gave off a rich and savoury aroma no doubt due to the salted pork that had been used to make it, and Dany could almost taste the aromatic spices that had been added to improve the flavour.
The young tattooed woman carefully removed a full ladleful of broth with one hand and picked up a wooden bowl with the other, before she slowly poured the ladles contents into the bowl, so as to not waste any.
She carefully passed the broth to the old man, who took it gratefully, before she began to repeat the process.

Ever so slowly, the bowls of broth began to be passed around the fire, while someone else started to hand out small wooden spoons and cups of water, until everyone had been served.

Thanks were given in different tongues to the tattooed young woman, whilst others spoke short prayers to their respective gods, thanking them for another meal.
A few, such as little Mya, just began to eat once they had received their portion.
Though given the indulgent smiles she was given, no one truly minded.

Her guests glanced at their meals in slight trepidation, no doubt remembering the stale crackers that they had swallowed down.
Prince Daemon dipped his spoon into the broth and held it up to eye level as he blankly watched it drip back down into the bowl.
But hunger apparently overruled memory, as Lady Laena swallowed a cautious spoonful of the broth and made a noise of pleasant surprise.
Emboldened by this, Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon began to slowly eat spoonfuls of their own broth as well, eyebrows raised in surprise as well.

Once she saw everyone had begun to eat, Dany lifted her own spoon to her lips.
While the broth was rather thin it carried a savoury flavour, helped along by the spices that had been added, which caused Dany’s lips to tingle slightly.
The pork was rather tender and was well salted, and paired well with the finely chopped onions.
Though the broth was light, it filled her stomach with warmth.

 

Dany felt, rather than saw, the eyes of her guests upon her.
They watched her closely as she continued to savour her meal and as she chatted quietly with those who sat around the fire.
Dany pretended to be oblivious to their surveillance.
But in truth while her guests were observing her, she was also observing them in turn.
She wanted to know more about her kin…not just as the Queen of Bloodstone…but as Daenerys Targaryen.

The histories that her brother had taught her, and those from books she had been able to read, had spoken of her ancestors feats and skill at arms. Had recorded their victories and their defeats, the wars that were fought and the battles that were lost. Had detailed their allies, their lovers, their marriages and their adversaries. They had all painted a picture of her family.

…But mayhaps the painter had never managed to complete the painting?
Never grasped the full scope and never focused on the finer details.

Dany had never known the shade of blue that Princess Rhaenyra’s eyes contained. She had never been taught how the Princess had a habit of twisting the rings around her fingers when nervous or worried. The histories had never described the sound of Princess Rhaenyra’s voice when she spoke with love, or rage or despair.

The histories that she knew of hardly mentioned Lady Laena, entire pages blank where there should have been detailed accounts on the rider of the fierce Vhagar. They had never described the Lady’s wistful and forlorn expression as she gazed upon a giggling babe at his mother’s breast. Never spoken of the sadness and pain and strength and kindness in her eyes.

Dany had read of the Prince’s skill at arms and the battles he had won. The histories had described his arrogance and his ambition, his moments of bravery and his moments of monstrosity. But the histories had never mentioned the quieter, tender moments. Never spoke of the love he so clearly had for his daughters, nor his loyalty to those he considered his family. She wondered if her brother would have spoken of the Prince with such reverence, if the histories had described how Prince Daemon gently rested his hand atop his wife's wrist, in support of her in her apparent grief.

Truthfully, the words used to describe them were poor substitutes for reality.
Dany wondered what else history had forgotten.
How many other small details had been lost?
How many things had been forgotten all together?

Dany wanted to know.
She wanted to know of it all; the good, the bad, the mundane.
All of it.
Dany wanted to know more about her family, no matter how distantly they were related.

Though there were hundreds of questions that whirled around inside her mind and threatened to burst past her lips, Dany forced them back down with each spoonful of broth, and continued to quietly eat her meal and observe her guests.

 

Little Mya, to her sister’s mortification and to the indulgent laughter of others, eventually lifted her bowl to her face and gulped down what remained of her broth, having finished eating much faster than anyone else.
The little girl licked the remnants of broth from her lips as she lowered the bowl to her lap and wistfully stared down at it, still hungry.
Dany could see Mya glance longingly towards the cooking cauldron, opening her mouth to ask for another serving, before quietly closing it.
The little handmaiden looked down at her empty bowl in disappointment.
Too afraid to ask for more.

How sad was it that a young girl was able to gather the courage to face down a dragon, but was still too afraid to ask for a second helping of supper for fear of a beating or depriving someone else of a meal that could halt the inevitability of starvation?
No child should ever have to fear going hungry, or fear asking for more.

Dany realised that she wasn’t the only one who had noticed.
Alia’s expression could only be described as heartbroken and angry, though Dany knew that the anger was not directed at her little sister, but rather towards the ones who had taught Mya to fear asking for more.

Her guests had taken notice as well, though their reactions were more…discrete.
Lady Laena and Princess Rhaenyra both tried to maintain neutral expressions, but their eyes and furrowed brows betrayed their confusion and worry, as they looked between the little girl’s longing expression and the still full cauldron.
Both glanced at one another, clearly hesitant, but stayed silent.

Prince Daemon said nothing as he observed from afar, still swallowing his broth. Not a hint of a smirk or a throne on his face as he watched the little handmaiden’s hunger. Until his spoon, scraped against the bottom of his empty bowl.

He thrust his empty bowl out towards the young tattooed woman, “Another bowl, if you would be so kind”, the Prince drawled.

Whether her people understood the common tongue or not, the Prince’s message was clear.
He didn’t seem to care that he was regarded with a mixture of bewilderment, annoyance and contempt at the lack of tact he so freely displayed.
The young woman’s eyes could have burned through him, as she poured another ladleful of broth into his bowl, but the Prince did not care.
Dany watched as he began to devour his second helping of broth, seemingly oblivious to all the eyes watching him with abject disapproval and disappointment.
Dany felt much the same, until she saw it.
Only for a moment, so small that she thought that she had imagined it.
Yet, as the Prince continued to eat, he took a single glance towards the little girl who sat beside her.
It wasn’t a look of mockery, or smugness, but rather of…expectation? As if he was waiting for something to happen.
Perhaps, in his own way, it seemed that the Prince had tried to encourage little Mya to take a second helping.

…Though it was not as successful as he had perhaps hoped it would have been.

“See, little Sister, there is much more to be shared. No one would mind if you asked for more”, Alia’s voice was quiet but filled with encouragement.

Mya looked towards Prince Daemon, then over at the cauldron suspended above the fire, before looking back down at her lap. “He is a Prince, sister. Of course he gets to eat more.”

Alia opened her mouth to speak again, but was stopped when Mya spoke again, seeming to predict her sister’s thoughts. “I’m not hungry.”
Despite the fact that her stomach’s rumbling could be heard clearly.

While Dany was unsure if the Prince was familiar enough with the tongue of Lys to understand the sister’s conversation, she knew that he could hear and understand the sounds of a grumbling half-empty stomach.
He scowled as he shoveled more broth into his mouth, turning towards the sea in an almost petulant pout.

Before Dany could even attempt to resolve the issue before her…a roar shattered the feeling of peace that had settled upon the beach.

Dany heard the sound of wings whipping the wind, before she saw them.
Three familiar shadows above the open sea. Her children.
And there were two more shadows she could make out in the night sky, following closely behind them.
The Prince and Princess’s dragons. Caraxes and Syrax.

Trills, growls and roars filled the sky as the dragons dodged and weaved between and around each other as they danced above the beach.
It wasn’t a dance of fire and fury.
It was a dance of joy and play.
Dany could tell that her children’s growls and purrs were not of anger or fear but of excitement and delight.
They were happy to have new play mates to compete with.
Dany sat back against the stone behind her and watched as the dragons danced far above her in the open sky.
She wasn't the only one.
Around her, voices had stopped speaking, and people had stopped moving as they stared up at the sight of dragons dancing in the night sky.

Dany tilted her head to the right, eyes moving away from the dragons to instead look upon their riders.

Prince Daemon, once sulking, visibly brighted as he heard the sounds of his dragon’s roar.
The Prince smiled, but it wasn’t bitter nor sarcastic or a smirk.
As the Prince looked up into the darkening sky, a genuine small smile appeared on his face as he watched Caraxes fly.
It rather suited him.

Lady Laena’s reaction was more subdued than her husbands, but Dany could see her quiet sorrow wash away and her eyes brighten as she looked up to the sky.
When a loud roar bellowed out from beyond the walls of Dragon’s cove, a joyful grin appeared on the Lady’s face.
Her dragon partaking in the dance above her head in spirit, instead of appearance.
…Which, in fairness, was probably for the best.

Princess Rheanyra’s rather indifferent expression transformed into one of delight as she gazed up at her dragon, while she played with the others, she spoke soft words of encouragement and endearment in High Valyrian, even if Syrax could not have been able to hear.
Yet while the words may have failed to reach the she-dragon, the bond between them did, as she seemed to purr and trill even louder, much to Princess Rhaenyra’s delight.

Dany then rolled her head to the left, and saw that her children’s reactions to the dragon’s acts of play were a lot more…diverse.
Some watched in abject terror, whilst others only looked upon the sky in awe.
Either way, everyone was completely transfixed.
Even little Mya’s eyes were fixated upon the dance that the dragons performed.
…Which gave Dany an idea.

As the dragons began to finish their performance, Dany quietly leaned over towards the little handmaiden’s empty bowl, and began to carefully pour a large portion of her own broth into it.
She used her spoon to gently add extra chunks of salted pork to the bowl, until it had been filled to three quarters full.

Dany slowly sat back against the rocks behind her, gaze pulled up to the sky as if nothing had happened, as the dragons began to descend closer to the ground.

Syrax and Caraxes pulled away first, wings spread wide to slow down their descent, before they began to circle above Dragon’s cove as they had hours ago.
Her children followed their example shortly thereafter.
They circled beneath the two adult dragons, lower and lower until they were just above the small mountain that surrounded Dragon’s cove.
Drogon’s wings flapped harder and harder as he lowered himself down to the mountain’s peak, until eventually he landed as gently as a dragon could, atop the grass.
His siblings did not wait long to follow his example, cream and green coloured wings flapped quickly against the wind as they too lowered themselves down to the mountain’s peak, until their claws rested flatly against the earth.

It was almost comical to see all three of their heads peek out from the cliff face at the same time, as they looked up at the dragons which still circled the skies above them.
Syrax let loose a few happy trills, while Caraxes almost seemed to purr.
Her children almost chirped with happiness in return.
Another loud roar, almost like a groan erupted from the far side of the mountain.
The roar prompted the two circling dragons to give a final few trills, before flying towards the old she-dragon, and eventually disappeared out of sight.

With the departure of two dragons and the landing of three, her people resumed eating and chatting quietly, as calm began to return to the beach.
A few occasionally glanced up towards where Syrax and Caraxes had flown towards, whilst others looked at her own dragons, whose heads were still peaking out over the edge of the cliff.

All three of Dany’s children had their heads turned downwards, each of them sniffed the air as their eyes scanned the entire beach, until they spotted her.
Dany waved and blew them a kiss, which was received with the sounds of content growling and purring.
Satisfied, her children turned away from the beach, heads disappearing from view as they went to find a spot to comfortably lie-down.
Viserion’s tail appeared briefly over the edge of the cliff, almost waving back at Dany, before vanishing from view once again.

Little Mya let out a giggle at Viserion’s tail wave, still smiling from the dragon's display, not a hint of fear in her gaze.
Though her smile wavered and dimmed when the last of the dragons disappeared from view, the little handmaiden’s head drooped back down, looking at her no longer empty bowl.

Mya quickly sat up straighter, her head snapped up as she looked around in surprise at all of those who sat around the fire, before her gaze returned to her bowl of broth.
The little girl tentatively picked up her spoon, and lifted it to her lips, before she slowly swallowed a small mouthful of broth.
Almost afraid that it would disappear into thin air.
Instead, when the broth’s warmth filled her stomach, a wide smile spread across Mya’s face as she slowly began to eat her second portion.
A small hum of contentment filled the air around her.

Like a moth to a flame, the small noise from her little sister drew Alia’s attention.
Her eyes filled up with tears of joy, but none fell as she instead smiled at her little sister’s happy expression.

Dany just leant back against the stone behind her, her head tilted to the side as she watched, and smiled.

Dany glanced down at her own, now empty bowl, that rested in her lap.
Quietly, she picked it up as she shuffled closer to the cauldron that hung above the fire.
She gently extended her arm, holding the empty bowl forward, towards the tattooed woman. “It was delicious, might I have some more?”

The woman looked between Dany’s empty bowl and the little girl sitting next to her, before she glanced at Dany with a knowing expression.
And while she didn’t smile, her lips twitched upwards, amused.
Wordlessly, she took the empty bowl from Dany’s hand and poured a generous helping of broth into it, so much so that Dany thought that it would overflow.

Dany nodded in thanks, as she cautiously reached out with both hands, to hold the now-full bowl.
Up to her right, she heard a huff of amused laughter from one of her guests.
She peaked over her shoulder, to see that they were all staring at her with looks that were both bewildered but amused, as they looked between her bowl and the little girl who was eating besides her.

Apparently she hadn’t been as subtle as she first thought.
Rather than say anything, Dany just smiled and winked at them, before carefully sitting back and lifting another spoonful of warm broth to her lips.

 

Over time the glow of the fire began to die, its embers only glowed faintly against the night.
While many of her people still continued to sit around the firepits long after they finished eating, many others excused themselves, and prepared to rest for the night.

Little Mya’s bouncing excitement from earlier had gradually been replaced with frequent yawns and hands rubbing at her eyes, desperately trying to stay awake.
Seeing this, her sister wordlessly stood up, before bending down and gathering the little handmaiden in her arms.
One arm wrapped beneath Mya’s legs, whilst the other pulled her firmly but gently against Alia’s chest.
As Alia stood up with the little girl in her arms, Dany stood up as well.

“Please excuse us, Your Grace. I must see my sister to bed.” Alia whispered, as she gestured to her sister who was near asleep in her arms.

“Of course.” Dany nodded. “And please, let the others know that I intend to sleep elsewhere tonight.” She subtly gestured behind her.

“It will be done, Your Grace.” Alia assured, freezing slightly as little Mya’s arms came up to wrap around her neck, before she spoke in more quietly. “Good night, Your Grace.”

“Good night.” Dany whispered in return.

As Alia turned away towards ‘The Missandei’, little Mya sleepy waved at Dany, before her head rested upon her older sister’s shoulder, as she began to fall asleep.

She waved in return, before turning her attention back towards her guests. Who had risen from their stony seats and were subtly stretching to alleviate their discomfort.
“Should you wish to retire for the night, I shall escort you to your quarters. Then we may reconvene in the morning.” Dany suggested.

“An excellent idea, Your Grace.” Lady Laena smiled gratefully. “Do you also plan on retiring for the night, Your Grace?”

“Not yet, My Lady” Dany shook her head slightly, “I have other duties that I must attend to.”

Lady Laena still smiled, yet her expression was more perplexed as she asked. “What duties must you attend to at this hour, your Grace?”

Dany gave the lady a small smile, yet did not reply.
Instead she wordlessly watched, as some across the beach began to finish their final duties of the day.
Empty water barrels were moved aside, to be refilled at the spring in the morning, or just to clear the beach.
Empty bowls and used spoons were being collected and taken towards the sea, to be washed and dried before being stored away again for the next meal.
A trail of people, who carried a mixture of water barrels, cauldrons and open crates, trekked towards the port entrance.
Whom Dany intended to follow.

Dany walked closer to the cauldron that still hung above the dying firepit, and peered inside.
While many around the fire had chosen to have a second helping of broth, there was perhaps a third of the broth that remained untouched.
It would not do for it to go to waste.

Her hand hovered above the cauldron’s faintly heated metal of the cauldron’s handle, as she glanced over at her kin. Their eyes switched between the trail of people carrying various supplies, and Dany’s hand hovering above the cauldron handle, a flicker of understanding dawning on their otherwise confused and watchful expressions.

“Please, excuse me, My Lady”. Dany spoke as she lifted the small cauldron from its resting place, which despite its size wasn’t particularly heavy to carry, more so awkward due to its odd shape and her own lack of height.
She held the cauldron’s handle with both hands to her right side, and carefully began to step forward, as she tried to avoid any sudden movement that could cause the remaining broth to spill over.

She had only moved a few paces towards the entrance of the port when the sounds of her own footsteps were joined by others. She glanced over her shoulder, still careful of where she stepped, to see that her guards had silently followed her whilst her kin also trailed behind her looking utterly bemused.

“Your Grace…may I ask where are you going?” Princess Rhaenyra asked, voice full of bewilderment.

Dany paused for a moment, before she turned around and asked quietly.“...Do you still wish to know how poorly my children were treated for such ‘simple things’ to bring them so much joy, My Princess?”

The Princess swallowed before answering, “You did agree to speak of it later, Your Grace.”

“I did, My Princess. But I believe that this-” Dany gestured between the cauldron she held in her hands and the line of people who carried other things towards the port, “-Might speak louder to you than any words I could speak will.”

Each of their faces spoke of bewilderment, but also of intrigue. The need to know.

“So, I ask you, My Princess. Do you still wish to know?” Dany asked the Princess cautiously.

Princess Rhaenyra thought for a long moment, before she looked into Dany’s eyes as she nodded, “Yes”.
Lady Laena also inclined her head in silent agreement.
…And the Prince did not speak nor move.

Instead he stood with his arms crossed, studying her.
After a long pause, he uncrossed his arms and began to slowly walk closer to Dany.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that with each step he took, the closer Ser Davos’s hand drifted to the hilt of his blade, until at last the knight's hand was resting on top of his sword’s pommel.

However, the Prince’s sword arm did not reach for his blade as Ser Davos feared.
Instead he reached out and grabbed the cauldron’s handle and wordlessly lifted it from Dany’s arms.
She stood somewhat stunned for a moment, before raising an eyebrow at the Prince.
“We’ll be here forever, otherwise.” Was Prince Daemon’s blunt explanation, annoyed that he even had to explain his actions.

Dany allowed a small smile to appear on her face at the Prince’s bluntness and his unspoken agreement. “You have my thanks, My Prince.”
Prince Daemon only grunted in acknowledgement.

Dany looked between each of her guests in turn before she gestured towards the port entrance, “This way.”
Just like before she turned around, and began to walk towards the entrance of the port, arms considerably lighter with the sound of many footsteps following in her wake.

 

At the entrance of the port, instead of walking straight ahead as she had before, Dany followed behind the trail of people who were walking ahead of her and turned left instead.
She strode along the walkway, passing by other offshoots, before eventually turning right.

Ahead of her, Dany saw some of the water barrels and cooking cauldrons being carried aboard a lumbering great Cog, its dark grey sails fluttering in the wind.
As she and her guests grew closer still, she could see the shadows of guards patrolling about the ship, their frames illuminated by their lanterns, faces stern.

Those who had carried food and supplies on board the ship, left as quickly and as quietly as they had entered, giving her short nods or bows as they passed by her.
Dany nodded in turn, and continued to trek past the Cog with dark sails.
The area around the ship itself seemed completely silent save the wind hitting the sails…and the faint rattling of chains.

Which was apparently loud enough for the Prince to voice his curiosity, “What is aboard that ship?” He asked, while gesturing towards the ship with his head.

Dany did not turn around as she replied, “Prisoners, My Prince.”

“Prisoners?” Lady Laena’s voice spoke out next, equally as curious as her husband.

Dany peered over her shoulder, “Yes, My Lady. During the battle for control of Dragon’s cove, I gave orders that anyone who threw down their weapons and surrendered, should be spared.”

“How many surrendered?” The Princess asked, as she continued to look between Dany and the distant sounds of rattling chains as they continued to pass by the prison ship.

“Eight and forty, My Princess.” Dany replied, quietly musing that it would have been nine and forty, had one pirate avoided putting a blade to her throat.

Prince Daemon sharply exhaled through his nose, not unlike his dragon and asked with an almost frustrated tone. “Why would you accept their surrender, your Grace, when you could have snuffed them all out with dragonfire? Would it not save the bother?”

Dany abruptly came to a stop, in order to turn around and fully face the Prince. “I gave my word, that they would be spared if they surrendered, My Prince. And as to the matter of their imprisonment. There were other matters that took precedence. I ordered that they were to remain under heavy guard until such a time when their presence may be prioritised.”

He gave her a long scrutinising look, “You do not think that a few will…disappear into the sea, while under guard?” The question was almost blazé in tone, though Dany knew it was a test.

She stepped closer towards the Prince, who had to bend his head further down due to him being at least twice her height. “I have given my guards clear orders, and spoken plainly of the consequences of disobeying them. I will ensure my people are given justice, My Prince, but at the moment I wish to ensure their continued freedom and safety.”

“Justice?” Prince Daemon asked, and she could see out of the corner of her eye that the word had caught the attention of Princess Rhaenyra and Lady Laena as well.

“Yes. Justice. That’s what Kings and Queens are for.” Dany replied, calm, yet firm.

The Prince looked over her for a long moment, before nodding in approval, whatever the test was, she had apparently passed.
Dany could feel all of her kin’s eyes upon her, as she turned around and continued to stride forward at her previous pace.

They continued past the prison ship, passing a few more vessels until they reached another great Cog, The Silver Asclepius. Though unlike the previous ship this one flew sails of silver and was abuzz with conversation and activity.
Healers flitted about the beds, little more than wooden boards padded with blankets, that lined the deck of the ship from the bow to the stern.

One man in torn plain grey robes knelt beside the bed of a woman whose eyes were covered with bandages, and whose right arm had been splinted and placed within a sling. He had been carefully helping the woman sit upright in her bed, before reaching for a bowl of broth that had been set down beside him. He carefully lifted the spoon to the woman’s lips, and slowly began to feed her the broth.

Another healer wore the attire of a red priestess, like those who used to wander about many of the free cities that Dany had resided in, preaching all throughout the day and lighting their night fires at night. Some of the finery of the robes had faded, but it was still recognisable. The priestess muttered prayers under her breath as she helped to change the soiled bandages on a man’s upper torso.

Lanterns and crates of medicinal supplies were dotted about the ship within easy reach, while the newly acquired cooking pots, kettles and cauldrons were being placed down near the mast of the square mainsail.
One healer was directing which of the supplies should be put into immediate use and distributed to the wounded, like a seasoned general. Whilst other pots and empty water barrels, that had been in use in the morning, were picked up and taken off-board to be washed and used again come morning.

Prince Daemon raised an unamused eyebrow, before he marched up and firmly placed the cauldron down alongside the others that had collected there, causing the nearby healer in-charge of the distribution effort to startle at his sudden presence.
The Prince crossed his arms before he stepped backwards, muttering under his breath that no one had better expect him to pick up someone’s used bedpan.

But even as he spoke, his eyes never stopped scanning the beds of people laid out across the ship. His expression portrayed neither pity nor horror, rather he seemed to be lost in a memory as if the sight before him reminded him of some place elsewhere.

Lady Laena and Princess Rhaenyra were…less composed. They failed to hide the pity in their wide eyes as they took in the various healers tending to the injured. Both looked positively ill, at the sight of a young woman whose left arm and leg were nothing more than bandaged stumps.

“Good evening, Your Grace.” A croaking voice spoke from the startled healer's throat, as he hobbled over to her, before giving a short bow.
He was a rather short man, balding, with a crooked nose and a bushy grey beard. He wore plain breeches with a brown tunic and carried a small bag that Dany could see was filled with numerous different vials.

“Good evening, Emmon. How are your charges fairing this evening?” Dany asked, as she looked around at the beds that lined the ship.

“Steady, Your Grace. Or-” He lowered his voice, “As steady as some of them can be given the extent of their…conditions.”

“Are there any more supplies you need that will help improve these...conditions?” Dany asked.

The healer thought for a moment before nodding. “Some, Your Grace. The medicinal materials that we requisitioned have certainly helped, but without a steady supply…well, if you could have more herbs gathered and stored away for later. I would be most grateful.”

Dany made a note to prioritise Emmon’s request when she held court the next morning. “I’ll see that it's done.”

He smiled and bowed to her once more. “You have my thanks, Your Grace.”

It was at that moment he remembered that he had an audience of dignitaries, “Oh!”. His voice held clear surprise and embarrassment as he bowed to and greeted each of her guests in turn, “Good evening, Your Graces.”

His voice was tentative as he asked, “Do any of Your Graces require the services of a healer?”

“No, thank you, Maester. We came here at the invitation of her Grace. To better understand the…situation that we find ourselves in.” Princess Rhaenyra replied, polite yet distant.

Emmon chuffed slightly, “I appreciate your praise for my skills, Your Grace. But I am no Maester, not truely. Merely a man who offers the services of his craft along whatever road I find myself walking.”
The Princess’s cheeks grew slightly red from embarrassment.

“...You are a…hedge wizard?” Lady Laena asked, mystified.

“Hmm. I suppose that’s one name, people might call me, Your Grace. Truthfully I haven't a care for what people call me, as long as it doesn’t impose on my craft.” The healer answered honestly.

He blinked for a moment as if remembering something before he turned back towards Dany, “Speaking of healing, Your Grace. If I recall, you declined having your bandages checked this morning.” The disapproval was clear in his voice.

“Your memory speaks true.” Was all Dany had to say in reply.
In her defense, Dany had meant to return later in the day in order for her bandaged wound to be examined, but there were…other matters that required her attention.
Though she did not voice this aloud, as she doubted that the healer would accept such an excuse.

He sighed before he continued to speak. “I do not have the necessary supplies on hand, to see to your wound myself, Your Grace. However, Bjorn is currently making the necessary poultice, he will ensure that everything is in order.”
The hedge wizard gestured towards the stern of the ship where a large man was leaning over a bench as he crushed and mixed different herbs together with a mortar and pestle.

Dany gave the healer a thankful smile as she nodded, “You have my thanks.”

“And you have mine, Your Grace. Good evening, Your Grace. Your Graces.” He bowed towards her, and then towards her kin before hobbling off and barking off orders.

 

Dany recognised the healer who silently greeted her as she approached him at the rear of the ship.
He was one of the northerners who followed Freywa, even before she became the captain of the Shadow’s Flame.
He was built like a bear, near silent except for the few grunts he made when directing patients, and his arms were covered in scars. Which paired with the scarred claw marks that ran from the underside of his left ear to under his shirt, had at first given Dany the impression that he was a hunter rather than a healer.
Yet under Freywa’s recommendation, he had proven his skills in the art of healing.

He silently directed her to sit on top of a small wooden stool that was tucked close to the bench, while he prepared a new bandage, and a poultice that would need to be applied before the new bandage could be wrapped.
Dany held still as he began to unwrap the bandage from her neck, his movements efficient yet careful, until at last the bandage was completely removed.

All of her kin seemed to lurch forward slightly before stopping themselves.
Dany herself could not see the injury, but it must have been visible enough to garner such a reaction.
Wide eyes, covered mouths, clenched fists.
And each of their eyes promised fire and blood.

Bjorn carefully tilted her head back, to examine the wound that the blade had caused, making a sound of gruff approval before reaching for the poultice.
It was cold and sticky, and smelt of mint, but Dany knew it was necessary to prevent the wound from festering…she had seen what happened when even the smallest and unbothersome wounds were left untreated.

“A blade held to the throat?” Prince Daemon guessed aloud, though from the tone of his voice he already knew the answer and merely wanted confirmation.

Dany nodded as much as she could, without the northern healer making his displeasure known.

“How?” The Prince demanded, his voice almost growling.

“...I was taken by surprise.” Was all she said in reply.

“...Did he surrender?” The Prince gripped the pommel of his sword, glaring in the direction of the prison ship.

Before Dany could answer, another voice spoke out. “He didn’t really have a chance to m’lord.”

Heads turned to find the voice who had answered the Prince.
Sitting upright, with his back leaning against the ship’s side was a young man, little more than a boy in truth.
Half his face was obscured by the bandages which were tightly wrapped around it.
Though Dany could still clearly see a pug nose, curly brown hair and a singular brown eye that was filled with mirth and curiosity.

The boy wore a simple shirt, which partially covered the bandages that covered his torso and the small twine necklace that he wore around his neck.
His left arm was splinted and lay motionless atop of his lap, which was completely covered by a blanket. While his right arm comfortably rested atop of a small wooden box with intricate colours, next to which sat an untouched bowl of broth.

Princess Rhaenyra stumbled for a moment, her voice a rasp as she murmured in horror, “Jace?”.
Though after a few moments, the Princess seemed to regain her footing, and realised that the injured boy before her, was not who she had mistaken him for.
And though some of her composure returned, her face was still ashen.

Lady Laena stepped towards the Princess, arms stretched out to steady her. Still she could not hide the widening of her eyes as she took in the half-bandaged boy.
The Prince followed his wife’s footsteps, sidestepping closer to his niece's side, guarding her until she regained her composure. While he neither blinked nor blanched at the sight of so many covered wounds, neither did he turn away.

The boy to his credit took the stares in stride, his tone was full of mirth as he spoke. “I know I’m no handsome lordling, but you should see the other bastard, he looks far worse than I do even without any of this.” He gestured to the bandages that covered most of his skin.

Dany let out a huff of amusement. “Good evening, Jate.”

The boy, Jate smiled and cheerfully greeted her. “Good evening, Your Grace. Come for another game?” Jate gestured to the box beside him, a Cyvasse board.

Dany had given it to him, after her first visit to the Silver Asclepius. The young boy had a smile on his lips, but his eyes had betrayed his quiet misery. Being able to do little of anything he had grown rather bored rather quickly, and the boredom had become sullenness shortly thereafter. He wasn’t the only one, just one of the few who had stood out the most.

Dany had sought ways to keep those aboard the ship in high spirits. Books that could be read aloud, games to play that required little strenuous activity and visitors who would speak of everything and nothing.
Cyvasse was a game that could never be played quite the same way twice, and only required a free arm to play, which the boy had. Boredom had been quickly eliminated and Jate’s smile had become more genuine and infectious.

She chuckled, “I’m afraid not. Healer Emmon was rather insistent that my bandages be changed.”

Jate shrugged in concession. “Ah well, he is a stubborn bastard. Easier to listen, than to hear ‘im moan and groan.”

“Then why does he grumble so much around you?” Dany asked in amusement.

“Ah. That’s because I’m also a stubborn bastard, your Grace.” He laughed, before it turned into wet coughing. His body curled up with the force of it.

Dany went to stand up, much to Bjorn’s displeasure, before Jate put his hand up to stop her. Still coughing even as he tried to smile reassuringly.
Bjron grumbled as he stepped away from Dany, returning moments later with a cup of water. The bear of a man stepped carefully around the bowl of broth and the Cyvasse box as he slowly bent down beside Jate’s right side, and extended the cup towards him.

Though he still could not speak, the boy’s watering uncovered eye spoke of his gratitude as he took the cup from Bjorn’s hand.
The boy’s coughing slowed down, and slowed down some more as he took little sips of water, until the coughing stopped at last.
Jate’s body uncurled itself, beginning to relax, as he began to take slow and deep breaths.

Bjorn nodded in approval.
He picked the cup up from the boy’s relaxed hands, and placed it on the decking next to him, before moving to pick up the forgotten broth and spoon.
The healer brought a spoon full of broth to the boy’s lips, but he weakly shook his head and just continued to breathe.
The uneaten broth was quietly placed back down on the deck of the ship, before Bjorn stood up and marched back to Dany, wordlessly gesturing for her to sit down once more.

There was a pause before another voice spoke, “…You’re from Fleabottom.” The Prince’s words were more of a statement of fact than a question, “I recognise the accent.”

“Aye, m’lord.” Jate croaked.

“Your Grace.” Prince Daemon corrected, mildly.

“Aye, your Grace.” Jate repeated, though she could hear an undertone of anger and reluctance in his voice. “I’ve lived in King’s Landing for all of my life…well until now I suppose.” Jate looked around as he spoke.

“How did you end up here?” The Lady asked.

“On a ship, Your Grace.” Jate answered, confused.

“How did you get on the ship?” The Prince asked more specifically.

Jate clenched his jaw, before he spoke. “Bunch of gold cloaks nabbed me off the streets. Said I’d fetch a good price, specially since I’d pissed off some lordling, so they got paid more.”

“Which gold cloaks took you?” Prince Daemon’s voice was harsh and demanding.

Jate’s single eye looked at the Prince in anger, before looking away as he shrugged. “Couldn't say, Your Grace. They tossed a bag over my head, before boxing my ears. Any gold cloak who walks the streets Fleabottom could have been part of it.”

“Did they say which Lord paid them to...take you?” Lady Laena questioned, though she was much less demanding than her husband.

“No, Your Grace.” Jate, looked down at his lap.

“Are there any Lords or sons of Lords, you know of, who might have paid for such a…service?” Princess Rhaenyra, hesitantly asked.

Jate hesitated for a moment, eyeing the Prince distrustfully, before he responded. “...Hard to say, Your Grace. Lots of folks go missing in Fleabottom, either dragged away by gold cloaks or disappearing in the night.” The boy shrugged. “Besides most lords wouldn’t have wasted the effort, they would have just waited until no one was around.” He looked up as he drew his right thumb across his throat.

Princess Rhaenyra and Lady Laena both appeared disturbed by this information, and subtly looked towards the Prince, their eyes silently asking if such an occurrence was both common and true.
The Prince’s jaw clenched as he looked over the injured boy, assessingly, and eventually tilted his head in concession.

The Lady swallowed, before she continued. “How often do people go missing?”

“Often enough that we look for them in the nearest ditch or pigstie, Your Grace. If we don’t see, hide nor hair of them for three days, then we declare them dead.” Jate replied stoically.

Lady Laena and Princess Rhaenyra swiftly glanced at one another before the Princess asked, “What about those who are taken away by the City Watch?”

The boy let out a dark chuckle. “Then we only wait for two days, Your Grace. Doesn’t matter if the gold cloaks were working for the crown or working for these bastards.” He laughed harder, before he began to cough again, and hastily grabbed the nearby cup of water.

Prince Daemon’s head dipped down to stare at the deck in contemplation and anger, his arms still crossed, not saying a word.
Meanwhile his wife and his niece whispered to each other in High Valyrian with stunned expressions, it was obvious that they knew nothing of this.
And while the Prince may have had an idea of such things, perhaps he had not realised the full extent of such events.

 

Bjorn finished wrapping the new bandages around her neck, he traced around them lightly to ensure they were properly secured, before he grunted in approval.
He gestured that Dany could now stand-up freely without the risk of a healer’s audible disapproval.

“You have my thanks.” She spoke upwards, towards the bear of a healer.

She received a grumbled acknowledgement in reply, before he went back to crushing and mixing different herbs.

Her kin still whispered and to each other in low tones, now aided by the Prince’s mutterings.
But Dany paid no mind to them for once. Instead she walked over towards Jate and crouched down by his side, and reached out with the back of her hand to feel his forehead. It was quite warm, but not alarmingly so.

“Have you eaten yet?” Dany asked as she looked down at the still near-full bowl of broth sitting nearby.

Jate’s face scrunched up in a barely disguised grimace, “Not yet, Your Grace.” His grimace transformed into a mirthful grin once again, “I was too distracted by the tale of your legendary bravery and daring feats.”

Dany let out an amused huff as she dropped her hand from his forehead, to rest on top of her knee, “I would hardly call it as such.”

“There’s no need to be so humble, Your Grace.” Jate spoke assuringly. “I wouldn't have believed it myself, had I not seen it with my own eyes.”

“Seen what?” Dany turned around towards the Princess and the rest of her kin, who had stopped whispering to each other.

Jate did not seem perturbed by the attention, his uncovered eye was wide with awe as he spoke. “Her Grace staring death in the face, and refusing to blink.”

Her kin blinked at that.

Jate continued, looking far away, at another time and place. "I can see it now, all the mummer’s plays and puppet shows in Fleabottom, telling all of King’s Landing the tales of your bravery.” He turned to Dany and smiled widely again.

“Regardless of your vision, your chances of winning lessen with your distraction and each bite of broth you refuse.” Dany smiled gently in return, as she looked between the Cyvasse box, the boy’s face, and the broth bowl.

“I told you your Grace, I’m a stubborn bastard, I'll win eventually.” Jate spoke confidently.

“Even still-”, Dany carefully picked up the bowl and held it out towards the boy, “I will make you a bargain. If you eat at least half of your broth, I promise to join you in the morning for another game.” She quickly glanced down at the colour box by her feet, before looking up again. “And we shall see if you emerge victorious then.”

Jate looked between Dany and the bowl of broth, he swallowed as his stomach growled slightly, before his right hand slowly reached for the bowl.
He set it down securely in his lap, and brought a spoonful of broth to his lips. He looked at Dany as he swallowed it down.

“Thank you, Your Grace.” Jate, said quietly, a shy smile on his face.

Dany gently brushed some of his hair aside, the boy’s viable eye closed as he leaned into it. “I shall see you in the morning, Jate.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” The boy nodded before opening his eye again, “Good night, Your Grace.”

“Good night, Jate.” Dany brushed the boy’s hair once more, before she stood up, and beckoned her guests to follow her.

 

As Dany stepped off the gangway and onto the creaking walkway of the port she could hear her guests following, wordlessly, behind her.
Even as they began to trek away from the Silver Asclepius, past the prison ship and weaved their way towards ‘The Missandei’.
No words were exchanged, only glances.

It was not until they were parallel with the Missandei, that a voice spoke up behind her.

“...Why?” The Princess’s voice was quiet, yet demanding.

Dany only hummed in response, curious.

Princess Rhaenyra let out an exhale that was somewhere between a scoff and a sigh, sounding lost. “Are such duties not below your station, Your Grace?”

Perhaps the Princess had been more unsettled by those on board the Silver Asclepius than Dany had realised.
She had seemed particularly distraught about Jate, mistaking him for someone else. Maybe this was just the manifestation and voice of her fear.

Dany half-turned around to face the Princess, who stood tensely, with her arms crossed. “I believe such duties are a crucial role of my…station.”

“How so?” Princess Rhaenyra’s voice was steady, and her eyes were dry, but underneath it all lay a faint undertone of desperation.

Dany thought for a moment before asking, “…Might I ask you a question, My Princess?”

The Princess’s lips were pinched, her eyes still distraught, but she nodded.

“What duty does a Queen have that supersedes all others?” Dany softly asked.

Dany could see how each of their minds turned the question over, again and again and again.
Looking at it from every angle, trying to list every possible answer.

Dany already knew what some of the answers could be.

‘To ensure the continuation of the royal line.’

‘To support the crown.’

‘To support her husband.’

‘To maintain alliances.’

‘To uphold the realm.’

All of which, Dany had been told, were a Queen’s duties. But which duty eclipsed the others?

Her kin seemed to struggle to decide, mouths opening to respond, but no voices answered her question.
Until eventually, they stopped trying and instead looked to her, for the answer they could not decide upon.

Dany looked into each of their eyes in turn, before replying in the same tone that she had asked her question. “...It is the duty a Queen has to her people.”

Silence rang for a moment, different shades of purple stared at her, bewildered.

“…I’m…not sure I understand, Your Grace”. The Princess stammered, her eyes searching for an answer.

Dany thought for a moment, before answering with a question she had pondered before. “...Tell me, My Princess. Why do the gods make Kings and Queens, if not to protect those who can not protect themselves?”

They all stared at her, stunned. Apparently that was not an answer any of them had on their minds.

Dany looked towards the direction of the Silver Asclepius, “I can not protect them from what they are fighting now. I can not turn back time, to the days they were uninjured. And I can not heal them.” She slowly turned around, to meet her guests' eyes once more. “But I can show them that their mother cares.”

“...Their mother?” Lady Laena murmured, almost in a trance as she stared at her.

“Yes. They are my children. Mine to protect and keep safe.” Dany answered, as her arm swept across all of Dragon's cove.

The Princess studied Dany for a moment, her jaw moved as she struggled to form words, before she spoke with a quiet voice. “You are…not what I imagined, Your Grace.”

“Oh?” Dany replied neutrally.

Princess Rhaenyra gave her a soft smile “ Yes. But…I do believe that might not be such a bad thing.”

“…If you may excuse us, Your Grace. It has been a rather…tiresome day and we wish for some respite before we continue tomorrow.” The Lady spoke the words with courtesy, but it was clear her mind was otherwise occupied.

“You wish to stay the morrow?” Dany asked, aware that it was but a formality.

“The king would wish for us to continue to observe. We will not impose upon your hospitality for much longer, Your Grace.”

“Very well.” Dany nodded, before gesturing towards The Missandei. “The Missadei shall be your quarters during the duration of your stay.”

“...Are these not your own quarters, Your Grace?” The Prince questioned, his eyes searching but thankfully his voice lacked suspicion, unlike before.

“Ordinarily they are, but tonight they are reserved for honoured guests. I have other quarters elsewhere, where I will rest tonight.”

Lady Laena gave Dany a courteous bow. “We thank you for your generosity, Your Grace. We shall see you on the morrow.”

Dany took a few steps backwards towards the beach, “Good night, My Princess, My Prince, My Lady. I shall see you on the morrow.” Bidding each of her guests, in turn.

The Princess nodded, still smiling. “Good night, Your Grace.”

Dany watched as they climbed aboard The Missandei and disappeared from sight.
The sounds of clanking armour carried over the waves, stopping after the sound of an opening and closing door.

Dany turned around and began to slowly stroll away from The Missandei, towards the beach once more. She smiled and waved at those who greeted her, and actively fought against the increasing urge to rub her eyes and yawn aloud.

Eventually she reached the base of the small mountain and began to climb the mismatched steps that lead to its peak, with only small patches of light to guide her way.
Just before the summit, Ser Davos’s voice spoke from behind her. “Please excuse me, your Grace. But-”

Dany smiled at the question as small growls were carried towards her ears by the wind, “I can assure you Ser, that I will be well guarded.”

He stood still for but a moment, before laughing, “I suppose there is no better guard than three large dragons, Your Grace.”

“I suppose so.” She giggled as she agreed.

Once Ser Davos finished laughing, he sighed as he looked out towards the open sea, before turning upwards to face her once more. “Good night, Your Grace.”

“Good night, good Ser.” She replied.

 

Dany watched as the three guards slowly descended down the uneven stairs and gradually disappeared into the darkness of the shadow of the mountain, before she turned around and continued her ascent.

The small path was lit only with moonlight, and she stumbled on a few errant rocks before she reached the summit.
There, lying down on the flat bed of grass, were her children.
All coiled up together, as they did when they were younger, with no clear beginning or ending.
Dany could see that they were still awake, eyes that held fire peered out from the darkness to look into hers, as she moved closer.
Drogon only moved when she climbed over his neck, to reach a small clearing in the centre of all three bodies. He grumbled slightly at his disturbed rest, but still purred when she fondly stroked his snout.

The heat from all three of their bodies wrapped around her like a hug as Dany methodically took off her jacket and folded it into something resembling a pillow, as she idly remembered the tales her brother had told her about knights who slept underneath the ancient hedges along the byways of Westeros.
Though she had yet to sleep underneath a hedge, Dany had slept in many different places throughout her life.

Dany had slept in alleys and manses, in war camps and cities, on ships and on ant hills.
Though the grassy ground wasn’t a plush bed, nor was the jacket beneath her a cheek a feather pillow, it was still reasonably comfortable compared to some of the places she had slept before.
Here she could sleep alongside her children, as she did when they were much younger.
And most importantly there was nary an ant hill in sight.
She laughed to herself quietly as she laid down on top of the grass, her jacket beneath her left ear, though she did not lay beneath a hedge she still laid beneath the starry sky, just like the knights in those stories.

Her laughter faded, as did her smile as she rolled on to her back to gaze up into the night sky.

How strange was it that the stars were all the same, yet everything else was so different?
Other dragons roamed the skies, and other Targaryens roamed the lands.
She was still a queen, but not of Merreen.
She was still a mother, but not ‘Myhsa’.
She still had those she called her children…but not the same children as she had lived alongside seemingly not so long ago.

Almost as if listening to her thoughts.
Viserion let out a whine and Rhaegal let out a growl.
While Drogon let out an annoyed huff.
Dany smiled at their reactions.

Almost not the same.

But still, so much was different.
Dany had laid out a plan of what to do in regards to her people and to Bloodstone, but what was she to do after that?
She covered her eyes with one of her arms, blocking the view of the sky in frustration.

If this truly was a different time, then all her progress in Slavers Bay, how little of it there was, was completely undone.
Should she sail towards Astapor once more, and free the unsullied once again? Then march on to Yunkai and Meereen, and free all those enslaved there while trying to avoid her previous mistakes?

Or should she allow herself to dream of Westeros?
The place that was the home of her family.
The place she had sought to go to for so long.
What about the Iron Throne?
She had believed that she must claim it, as her duty to her family. But now someone else sat upon it, someone who was the Blood of the Dragon.
If she sought to claim it for herself now, would she not be any better than the Usurper?

…But still…were all of the lives that were lost to get one step closer to the Iron Throne, truly all for nothing?
And though she may no longer be Queen of Mereen, how could she abandon all those in Slaver’s Bay when she knew all the atrocities that took place there?
What was she to do?

Dany’s arm dropped back down to the grass as she stared up at the stars, as if they held all the answers she seeked.
She could feel small puffs of air, brushing against her from all sides as her dragons shuffled closer to her, surrounding her in love and warmth.
And without even really realising, Dany’s eyes fluttered closed and she drifted off to sleep.

 

Dany was flying.
She wasn’t sure where or why.
She only knew that there was an endless horizon before her, where the ocean stretched out beneath her and the open sky was above her.
Dany clung to Drogon’s back, the sound of his wings beating the wind was echoed by his siblings who flew either side of him.

Just as she was about to spread her arms wide and embrace the wind.
She heard it.
A roar that echoed through the sky.
Though Dany quickly realised it wasn’t an echo at all, rather it was many roars all at once.
…None of which came from her children.

Suddenly a shadow overtook her, so large it blocked the sun that was shining overhead, and a loud moaning roar filled her ears.
One that she had heard before.
It was Vhagar.
Queen Visenya’s former dragon leaned left, and drifted away from Dany, still close-by but no longer blocking the sun’s light.

Dany heard other roars as well, ones that she also recognised.
A series of hill trills, as Syrax’s yellow scales swooped down from the corner of her left eye.
A high-pitched choppy roar emanated from her right-side as the crimson dragon Caraxes slid into view.

And then there were others.

Dany heard a cackling roar, which was swiftly followed by a blur of scarlet scales and copper horns. The dragon’s neck was lined with rows upon rows of spike-like membranes that matched its horns and claws.

A soft series of trills came from a nimble dragon whose scales were a pale silver-grey, almost blending in with the clouds around it.

A smaller dragon let out a whistling cry as it dodged and weaved about the sky, its scales were pale green and its membranes were white. It flew alongside Vhagar without any fear, despite it being dwarfed in scale.

Two other dragons of similar small stature followed closely behind. The one who led the charge seemed to snarl while roaring, its olive green scales a stark contrast to the pearlescent white dragon that followed closely behind, which let out short-almost squawking roars.
Both dragons flew to follow behind Syrax.

Another dragon, the smallest of them all, flew towards Syrax. Its pale violet wings frantically beat against the wind, which almost drowned out its high-pitched screech.

A dragon with pale blue wings and silver markings flew up from the sea, a roar that almost sounded like Drogon’s emerged from its mouth.

The sun gleamed off of pure golden scales, as a young dragon flew closer to the others, its squawking roar an indication of its youth.

There was a hooting roar from a nimble cobalt dragon, which dived between the dragon with the golden scales and the pale blue she-dragon.

Dany could see the silhouettes of each of the dragon’s riders, but not the riders themselves.
When she tried to focus her eyes upon them, the sun’s glare seemed to intensify, blinding her to their image.
Although she was completely surrounded, Dany did not feel fear.
Instead she could only feel immense joy.

Dany held out her arms either side of her, and laughed and laughed and laughed.
As she took in the wind and the sky and the sound of dragons all around her.
If this was a dream, she hoped it would not end.

Notes:

Me: Am I making too many characters who may or may not appear again or be relevant to the plot?
Also, Me: *Does a quick google search* …Over 2000 characters in ASOIAF?!
Me: Uhhh *looks between numbers* You know what, I think I am doing alright.

Dany: *Showing her people empathy, promising to love and protect them, feeling responsible for them, not really caring about being regal or ‘above’ her people*
Targs: What sorcery is this?!
Also Targs, when they see Dany’s people genuinely loving her and being loyal towards her: *Surprise Pickchu face*

Dany: What the hell do I do now?
The plot: I think I have a few ideas :)

Notes:

So, I started writing this fic before season 2 finished and let me tell you I was so happy when HOTD confirmed that Daenerys Stormborn is in fact the Prince who was Promised/Azor Ahai etc etc.

Like from what I have seen of Book! canon she is one of the few people who lines up with alot of things in the different prophecies, but still I was so happy!

It just got me thinking.
Like imagine Dany showing up in the world of HOTD, with her 3 dragons, freeing slaves and taking the world by storm.
Like she would be so happy to get to meet her family, from what I have seen its one of her core traits in the books.
Meanwhile the HOTD Targaryens would be freaking the hell out for a number of reasons, which is just hilarious.

Like especially the ones who know of "The prophecy", having a heart attack, because "The Prince is right there!" *Points at Dany*.
Meanwhile Dany just puts her hand up and says "No", to the prophecy. Since she does not trust prophecy.

Like I can't be the only one to find that slightly funny and mildly depressing?
Here are all of these Targaryens, who by either their own ego or desperation choose to believe that they are this "Prince" or at least the "Prince" will come from their bloodline. And they end up self-destructing by trying to be the subject of the prophecy since it never ends well.

Meanwhile, Dany does not know anything about the song of ice and fire, and just goes on to fulfill it? Not out of glory or ego or desperation, she is just being herself?

...You can tell I have probably thought about this way too much.
Anyway, let me know what you guys think, it would be fun to read!

Also, if anyone wants to use this as inspiration for your own fics, go right ahead! I would love to read fics with similar concepts!

(It's always Jon that travels back in time and while they are fun to read, I would love to read some more about Dany time traveling, especially if its more leaning towards her book! version, no hate for her show! version I just haven't seen many about book! Dany.)