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Published:2020-04-25Updated:2026-04-06Words:409,591Chapters:71/?Comments:5,535Kudos:6,019Bookmarks:1,659Hits:466,902
The Stormborn and the Stormbringer
SkilledWarriorKiwi
Chapter 17: Flight
Summary:
Oh man I am so burnt out from this year ugh
Also Ghidorah is still bby at this point, so his 'storm' is more of a very windy storm with scattered rain that's centralized around him like a big cloud. He isn't gonna be able to make horizon-swallowing hurricanes just yet lol
Chapter Text
The storm formed as Ghidorah picked up speed and altitude over the mountain ranges.
The muscles in his wing arms flexed and Daenerys could feel his determination as he began to sharply ascent up the peaks, as the range shifted from scattered grasses and rock to snowy slopes. As he flew up along the curve of the mountains his golden scales began to heat up underneath her, much like that night they flew through the storm. Which was a boon, as Daenerys had begun to feel the bite of the frosty altitude before Ghidorah's scales grew warm as he picked up speed.
When the blackened clouds began to swell the winds began to chase them, propelling Ghidorah along the currents even as his great wings continued to beat. It was a strange phenomena and Daenerys was unsure of what it meant beyond the winds themselves seemingly aiding the two in their journey.
Daenerys gripped Ghidorah's spines tightly, loops of leathers tied strongly around the spikes which were getting as long as her hand. Her body was settled flat along his back, as Daenerys knew it would be a long flight to Braavos. She'd spent enough time in the Great Grass Sea on horseback to know how swiftly ones buttocks would become numb and spine aching when unused to riding. Ghidorah may not be a horse but she hadn't ridden him long enough for her to be confident in spending hours upon him.
So even if it felt uncomfortable, Ghidorah's speed meant she was almost lying prone upon his scales with her hands gripping his spines and chest flat. The wind whipped at her hair and face, making her pale skin rapidly become windburnt but she bore it without complaint.
When Ghidorah soared over the painted mountains she was in awe of the thick snowy caps right at the peak and how the snow swirled around them in a storm. Ghidorah had no such issue and could see without hindrance even with the storm growing and the snow wild and she found herself relying upon his senses as he moved. Pressed as close as she was, it was like that night upon the storm when their visions seemed to meld and even with her eyes clenched shut and forehead pressed against the golden scales of his back as his speed grew so great it made her eyes water, she could see through his eyes in disembodied images like a broken mirror via his three sets of eyes.
The golden dragon's wingbeats were strong and steady as they crested the mountains and Daenerys could feel the way he flexed the wings of his wings from flying to gliding as they continued to head north west. He was conserving his strength for the flight ahead but Daenerys knew her child was strong. They would make it. They must.
Wait for us, Aemon. We are coming.
Most of the journey Daenerys trusted Ghidorah to know the way, how he knew the stars and they were high enough the air was thin and clouds near nothing beyond the ones chasing Ghidorah's wings. She knew from her own studies of maps that he was following the way and they were holding true for Braavos.
While it was night Ghidorah held no fear of being seen but when they'd flown for so long the sun began to peek over the horizon he flew high enough to be mistake for a bird as they passed over villages and farming fields. High upon Ghidorah's back Daenerys could even see the thick grassy plains of the Dothraki Sea to the east. The grass had towered over them when she had been upon horseback but now upon dragonback she could only see the difference in greenery to show the edge of the wild grasses. Otherwise the land below a quilt of mismatched colours, dips and peaks.
Ghidorah had fed before they'd left Meereen so Daenerys ate upon his back as he flew, gnawing at jerky and sipping from her waterskin as wind whipped at her hair and clothes. Ghidorah paid no mind to her mid-flight meal and through their link she could sense him adjusting position from tracking the stars to now following the rapidly rising sun.
Hours blended against one another as sunlight flooded across Essos but Daenerys paid no mind to her stiff limbs and burning eyes as all she felt was the desire to reach Braavos where her last family member awaited them. Her fingers were cramped and when she removed one from Ghidorah's spines it were if her fingers had turned to rusted metal, resistant to movement and joints grinding.
Ghidorah shivered from his snouts to his tails, making his scales ripple. Daenerys pressed close against him and she could feel the wordless question pushed to her and she hastened to assure her child she was fine. She had been in much greater pain than cramping joints and with the small storm following them their speed was great and she knew they were getting closer with each beat of Ghidorah's wings. The life of a queen was about sacrifice and peril and Daenerys would bear it just as Ghidorah bore her.
At one point they flew over a ruined city, that of Vaes Khadokh which Ghidorah pointed out to her with a mental probe. The city of corpses, she knew the Dothraki called it. Destroyed during the Century of Blood which had followed the Doom. She had passed the city while a part of Drogo's khalasar, a frightened and dull eyed wife and beaten sister of a mad beggar king. Now she flew over it upon the back of a golden three headed dragon who was her beloved child while she was a queen who'd crushed slaver armies under her heel and would not hesitate to destroy many more. The desolate city now, from their great height, simply looked like a scatter of grey stone kicked asunder by a child's tantrum.
Her child slowed down slightly as they passed over the city, looking no bigger than a hawk if there were anyone looking up below, and Daenerys felt a strange sense of mourning for the long dead city. Then his wings swept down again and they continued northwards.
Daenerys tracked time by the sun and when it reached its zenith the sprawling forest of Qohor began to appear, at first simple scatters of brush until Ghidorah flew closer and closer and the great trees were covered in leaves which shone gold in the sunlight. The woods looked like a huge swathe of gold strewn across the ground far below. Ghidorah spotted the city first with his much greater vision, at the banks of a river and among the golden trees.
Qohor, the eastern most of the free cities. They were getting closer.
Which Daenerys was glad for, as she could feel the pangs mimicking her own stiff joints in Ghidorah's wings even if she knew her child would refuse to stop and rest. He was strong and she had faith in him, they would make it to Braavos. She knew it and finding Qohor was the shift from the slaver lands to that of the free cities. It was the half way mark of their journey and a part of her was shocked they'd crossed so much of Essos so swiftly.
They passed by the City of Sorcerers without issue even if a part of Daenerys longed to see the city itself. The words of Quaithe still rang strong in her mind and suddenly she twisted upon Ghidorah's back, spine and neck aching as she looked behind them.
The black clouds chasing them were pulsating around Ghidorah's barbed tails halfway and the wind was pushing with them, not against. Like the storm was actively following them, like smoke spilling behind a lit torch.
The Stormborn and the Stormbringer.
Was that not what the maegi had called them? Daenerys had thought it for Ghidorah's breath, the lightning he could spit forth from his maw unlike any dragon before him. But now, seeing the clouds following so devoutly and how the wind was helping, not hindering, she had to wonder just what else Quaithe knew.
A dangerous friend indeed and she still could remember the man with blue eyes in her dragon dream. If the maegi spoke true, then a great threat was awaiting them and Aemon would know, Aemon could tell her of what threat it was. Her journey to Braavos was not just due to yearning for family but to ask about the dream. A part of her, which was still so unsure of Quaithe, hoped that perhaps it was a touch of madness not prophecy. To see dead men watching her and what horrors it would mean for them all. About what lurked beyond the Wall.
Then a scaly snout bumped against Daenerys head and she startled, twisting back around to find that Ghidorah's left most head had bent around like a serpent and was nosing her like a concerned mother for her pup. Daenerys pressed her forehead against his scaly snout, stiff fingers twitching from their grip upon his spine. He could sense her emotions and thoughts, both for the storm and the strange dream. He did not understand, not as a human, but he knew when things needed to be done and would do them as he pleased. He would kill those dead men again if need be and Daenerys found comfort in his blunt certainty at the fact.
Daenerys was the blood of dragons just like her child and dragons did not run and hide from their enemies. If there truly were monsters north of the Wall then she would confront them with her child by her side. Is that not what she had said before? Mother of a monster yet if her child was a monster then so was she. Monsters were feared and she knew the Masters feared her, the slaver armies feared her, Westeros feared her. And her child was feared by all.
A forked tongue pressed across her wind and sunburnt cheek, hot and slimy but she accepted his affection before his head pulled away. His wings flexed but otherwise they continued to ride the winds and she could feel his pleasure with the title Quaithe had called him. The Stormbringer.
Norvos was the next city they passed, perched atop the hills and surrounded by numerous walled villages. As they flew by the city even at such a height they could hear the tolling of bells, barely more than akin to pebbles striking one another at such a distance but Daenerys could still hear it high upon Ghidorah's back. She had to wonder what the bells were tolling for as they flew past.
Daenerys ate some salted meat before smearing more bees wax across her cracked lips, spine and fingers aching as she moved in stiff movements. Further north they could see the blue gleam of the ocean, the Shivering Sea where the city of Lorath was. Daenerys thought that perhaps she could see the tiny shape of the city, a speck at the edge of her vision but could not be sure. It was east, too far east, and their goal was the northern most of the free cities.
Ghidorah had slowed down from his starting speed, back when it had just shifted into night. He had flown for so long and Daenerys could feel her own arms burning in sympathy. However even while gliding on the winds chasing them the grassy lands below sped by with frightful ease even as more of the ocean opened before them.
Daenerys felt her heart jump in her chest, her gritty eyes open wide as the city of Braavos rapidly came into view upon the horizon. Hundred of islands roped together by stone bridges, the harbour city surrounded by tall mountainous islands covered in wind breaker trees. The only way to the great city was 'twixt the Titan's legs aboard a ship and the huge bronze and stone statue was visible even at their distance. The statue would most likely be over four hundred feet in height at its head, not even counting its raised arm which held a broken sword above.
Her pain was pushed aside and Ghidorah's own interest surged when they realized they were now at their destination. Ghidorah's wings swept down like thunder, all three of his heads hissing and chattering in excitement. The storm following them seemed to react to their excitement, the clouds spilling past and below as Ghidorah began to descend. They needed to find the Cinnamon Wind, a swan ship. If what Quaithe said was true then the ship would most likely be at the port facing the Titan, ready to depart.
They had to fly over the city but Ghidorah had slowed down as he flew over the barrier islands surrounded Braavos. The storm rushed forward, engulfing them in the darkness as if the sun was never there and leaving her surrounded in pulsating clouds much like that night above Meereen. Ghidorah could see just as well in the dark so she trusted his vision as they soared over the city.
Within the storm she could see Ghidorah's scales shimmer followed the flicker of brilliant gold and then the telltale jolt of lightning even as sparks snapped out of Ghidorah's mouth as his eyes burned crimson in the clouds. They descended even lower, raindrops splattering across her burnt skin but Daenerys bore it without complaint, using her child's eyes to search below. His eyes were sharper than any eagle, seeing the thousands of ships tied to the islands and canals threaded throughout the city. Could see the thousands of cramped houses and elaborate barges, the sheer variety of people and produce and how they flew above it all towards the outer docks where the sea ships were moored.
We're here Aemon. You are not alone, Daenerys thought, the tears that slipped from the corner of her eyes being swept up on the storm raging around them which began to sweep through Braavos like a blacked fog.
Ghidorah, feeling her churning emotions, let out a great trilling cry before he burst out of the storms belly and down below people began to scream.
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