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Published:2020-04-25Updated:2026-04-06Words:409,591Chapters:71/?Comments:5,538Kudos:6,020Bookmarks:1,659Hits:467,056
The Stormborn and the Stormbringer
SkilledWarriorKiwi
Chapter 32: Awake
Chapter Text
Daenerys felt as if her skull was splitting.
She nearly threw up when she opened her eyes, the sun streaming through the windows of her room at the apex of the Great Pyramid feeling like daggers twisting deep within her eyes. Her empty stomach roiled as she quickly squirmed to bury her face in the thick pillows beneath her. Her left arm was bound to her chest, the dull ache in the background of her thoughts compared to the pain in her head. The last time she'd felt so vile was when Mirri Maz Duur had killed Rhaego within her with magic, a bone-deep pain that radiated throughout her body, unnatural and weeping.
"Your Grace?" Barristan's voice, a broad hand gently touching her shoulder.
"...light...hurts..." she managed to rasp, throat itchy and dry.
There was a flurry of movement and noise then she felt Barristan carefully touch her head, wrapping a length of cloth around her skull and blindfolding her. Her relief was palpable as her vision was lost, relaxing back into the blankets of her bed even with her injured arm held tight against her breast. She let Barristan fuss over her, even gently coaxing her to drink some water to help soothe her ragged throat. Her stomach was still empty but now her tongue no longer felt as if it were muddled with paste.
Daenerys turned her head in the direction she could hear Barristan's armour clinking together as he set aside the empty goblet.
"The siege."
"Broken, Your Grace," the knight answered her readily. "You and your dragon sent the masters fleeing. When you...fell, we routed the remains from Meereen and the lands beyond and none have returned. You have been sleeping for over a week but the city is safe."
Daenerys' felt her lips twitch into a small smile; she couldn't remember anything that happened after she'd fallen from Ghidorah's back but she was safely in the Great Pyramid and her people were safe. They had saved the city, protected her children and killed the masters. The pain was still throbbing through her skull, making it difficult to think or move but her relief at protecting Meereen soothed her confusion. Barristan was with her, she'd managed to return from Pentos in time-
She tensed, eyes blinking sightlessly behind the blindfold, "Wait- Blackfyre, the chains-"
"Here, Your Grace."
Something solid and cold was pushed against her hand and Daenerys seized ahold of Blackfyre's cross-guard, fingers tracing a tiny, sculpted dragonhead and feeling the smoothness of an embedded eye of ruby. Aemon's chains were wrapped around the sword's hilt, clinking against her knuckles as she groped at the sword.
"It's difficult," she muttered, fingers gripping at Blackfyre's hilt, "Difficult to think."
"I can imagine so, Your Grace. That horn the Ironborn brought to Meereen was a most unholy thing."
"Ironborn?"
"Aye. We still have the remains of the crew as prisoners for you to question but the majority perished during the siege. They currently claim their captain, Victarian Greyjoy, had been bewitched by a maegi."
Daenerys shuddered, still remembering that hellish noise that had ripped through her. The horn itself, with its strange shifting glyphs and flaring light. Unholy magic indeed. Even Mirri Maz Duur's chanting and dancing shadows paled in comparison to that horn.
And then that strange dream. The yawning abyss of the sky, the shimmering golden dragon, the bright moth, the green fire and Others.
With a grunt Daenerys shifted in bed, pushing herself up against the pillows. She felt Barristan carefully remove the sword from her grip, hearing him put it close with a clicking of chains. Her stomach grumbled unhappily but she ignored it for a larger concern.
"Where is Ghidorah?"
"You should rest, Your Grace."
"Where is my son?" she asked again, voice sharp.
Barristan hesitated for a long moment before responding, words carefully chosen and deliberate, "Your dragon pursued the army, after he returned you to the Great Pyramid. It has not returned to Meereen since."
Daenerys frowned, fingers digging into the blankets. She tried to reach out to her child, through the mental link they'd forged but the pain got so great in her head she nearly blacked out. She slumped against the pillows, panting shallowly as sweat beaded her skin. The pain eventually ebbed to a painful throb rather than the bone-splitting agony of before but her breath was tight and painful.
"I have heard no word the dragon was struck down," Barristan said in concern. "It is most likely harrying the remains of the slaver alliance."
Daenerys said nothing, even as a mother's fear filled her veins. Ghidorah hadn't been affected by the horn, not as greatly as herself. But he had still felt it, she'd felt it through their bond yet he had the strength to rebuke the horrendous noise and shriek back at the horn to drown out the call and destroy it with his lightning. She remembered that much, before she fell. Then nothing beyond the strange dream then her awakening sick and hurting abed.
He would not be dead, I would know, Daenerys thought to herself. She knew how eager her child had been to destroy the masters; when she became injured, incapacitated, she could easily accept Ghidorah's rage overclouding everything else and choosing to destroy them to the best of his ability. Her connection to him was affected by her pain, her illness. Once she was recovered more she would know where he was.
To the side she heard Barristan's voice as the man went to fetch Missandei but Daenerys paid no heed as she thought upon Ghidorah.
She remembered his injured eye, how within the span of a night the puncture wound had healed as if it had never occurred. Ghidorah was strong, she had to trust he would return to her. He would feel that she was awake and return to her, Daenerys was sure of it.
But she was a mother and she would worry still for her son, regardless of how strong and fierce he grew.
Motherhood is a constant battle, she thought, staring at the blackness of her blindfold as her fingers clenched in the blanket. To bring a child into such a world, especially a dragon. The most precious of all living creatures in this world, the last dragon and only one of three heads with breath of lightning. Who would not want to grasp the title of Dragonslayer? The constant worry of a mother, when the world covets my child.
One of her children had died before he had even drawn breath, killed within her by a vindictive maegi. With Ghidorah her bond was deeper, tied within her mind and soul and at the very core of her ancestral blood. A bloodline throughout centuries, bound side by side with dragons, that had endured so much bloodshed and Doom. He would return to her, he must. Her son was alive and he would return to her, Daenerys believed it so.
"Your Grace?"
Daenerys turned her head in response to Missandei's gentle call. She reached out with her free hand, feeling Missandei's fingers link through her own and giving a comforting squeeze. With the scribe also came the scent of food and Daenerys' stomach grumbled again.
"I'm glad you're awake," the scribe said softly.
Daenerys spoke, "I would not abandon my people."
"I knew you wouldn't, Your Grace. And now the masters are dead and Meereen is recovering. Those afflicted with the pale mare have been set up beyond Meereen's walls and we've been salvaging any left behind. The storm washed many beyond the sea but it also scourged the infected corpses in the camp. But first, you must eat."
Daenerys didn't argue as Missandei carefully placed the tray across Daenerys' lap. A bowl, a thick hearty soup. Daenerys ate blind, not so enfeebled she would not feed herself, but she was still careful as she drank the soup from the bowl directly rather than bothering with a spoon. It was hot and stained her lips, Daenerys taking several gulps before lowering the bowl from her mouth.
"How many perished in my retaking the city?" Daenerys asked.
"We are unsure but it was a sizable number of the enemy," Missandei said. "If you speak of allies, then there were only several killed and that was due to lightning strikes from the storm. Otherwise you broke the army with naught but your dragon and no causalities from battle."
Daenerys swallowed down another mouthful of hot soup before saying, "Do we know all of those who took part in the siege? Who are my enemies, Missandei?"
Missandei answered, "I've been compiling a detailed list, Your Grace."
"Tell me."
"Most were directly from Yunkai and New Ghis. They first established Astapor as they killed Cleon before their march and were among the majority of those opposing you. There was also Qarth, Tolos, Elyria, and Mantarys. There was word of a fleet from Volantis yet I believe the Ironborn attacked the fleet before they came to Meereen as we have not seen any evident of a Volantis fleet. There were also the four sellsword companies; the Company of the Cat, the Longlances, the Second Sons and the Windblown."
"I saw Brown Ben Plumm when I attacked. I killed him and flattened his camp." His betrayal was still bitter, even if rationally she knew it was a sellswords lot. On that line of thought she asked, "Did Daario do the same in my absence?"
"No, Your Grace," Missandei said. "He remained loyal and is still within Meereen along with the Stormcrows. I have also been contacted by an agent of the Tattered Prince, leader of the Windblown. He claims they turned against the masters during your attack and killed some of the commanders to aid your victory. He wishes to discuss allegiance to you, once you'd recovered sufficiently to meet. He would only speak his terms to you."
"...I see." Daenerys took another sip of her soup.
"I have also discovered those of Meereenese stock, ships belonging to the Great Masters who aided in the barricade and naval warfare. Ghazeen, Hazkar, Loraq, Merreq, Pahl, Quazzar, Reznak, Rhazdar and Zhak. All noble families still within these walls. Same for the Sons of the Harpy, who are still killing."
"The Green Grace was also insistent you had died," Barristan added from somewhere to her side. "She claimed you had fallen to your death and urged us to slay your dragon should it return. I do not believe you had any allies among the Temples of Graces."
"I am a dragon, of course the Gods of Ghis do not look kindly to me." Daenerys scowled. Somehow, the old woman's manipulations and lies did not surprise Daenerys. Still, there was rage that the foolish priestess would dare to threaten Daenerys' son and urge her followers to murder him. How dare she.
Missandei waited for Daenerys to finish off her soup, before asking, "Did you at least find what you needed in Braavos, Your Grace?"
Carefully placing the empty soup bowl on the tray Daenerys nodded slowly, "I did find him. Aemon Targaryen. He died from his age soon after yet he told me much. He told me of the Others beyond the Wall of Westeros and how they are marching south. They will breech the Wall and spread beyond like locusts."
"The Others?" Barristan sounded shocked, "Those tales are true?"
"Aemon confirmed them. And the Black Brother who was with him had even killed one of the Others with a dagger of dragonglass. The Long Night will come for us again. Missandei, do you know what I speak? Since you have lived your life within Essos."
"I know not of the Others," Missandei said quietly.
"Have you heard of the Long Night? Or something similar? Years of winter and darkness and cold?"
"Yes. That I know somewhat. As stories from Yi Ti, caused by the Lion of the Night after the Blood Betrayal."
"Blood Betrayal?"
"It was said to be brought forth by the children of the Opal Emperor," the scribe explained, "His daughter, the Amethyst Empress, was the rightful heir to the throne but her younger brother was envious of her crown. Such so that he struck her down, stole the throne and declared himself the Bloodstone Emperor. He was said to worship an unfathomable black stone which had fallen from the stars and it twisted his mind. He took a tiger-woman as his wife, committed sins of cannibalism and necromancy, the blackest of magic and enslaved his people. The Yi Ti said that the Maiden-Made-of-Light was so horrified by this act she turned her back upon the world and the Lion of the Night came forth to punish humanity for the crimes of the Bloodstone Emperor."
"Interesting," Barristan said. "I know the stories we of Westeros say of the Long Night, when our winters grew vicious until the Long Night lasted an entire generation and killed as much. Ours was said to occur during the Age of Heroes, tales of heroes who fought for the Dawn Age. A history so old it was written just after the Andals came to Westeros, where myth and story merge until who knows what is truth. The maesters are certainly no friends to it, and discount and doubt all events of it. House Stark claims to descend from Bran the Builder, who built the Wall following the Long Night. I know the wild tales of Stannis' red witch claimed some mockery with the Long Night and that chosen prince."
"Do you know more of it?" Daenerys asked as she adjusted her blindfold with pale fingertips. Her head was throbbing but she ignored the pain as best she was able. A bellyful of soup helped her thoughts and aching bones.
"Forgive me, Your Grace, but I do not. I had always thought they were simply tales and did not dedicate much thought to them. Same for Stannis and his Volantis bloodmage."
"I see. However we must focus on our enemies as they are now. Once I have tamed Meereen, then we can focus our attention westward but for now I must secure this city."
"Of course," Missandei said. "I will seek information from Westeros, so we do not act blind yet continue my searching within Meereen."
"If that is the case, also see if you can unearth information about Aegon the Sixth across the Narrow Sea."
At that, Daenerys explained to the two about the information she learned from Strickland, how the Golden Company was laying siege to the Stormlands. And Aegon Targaryen, the apparent rescued son of Rhaegar and Elia at their head. Who'd been spirited away from King's Landing and a nameless orphan used in place for Clegan to kill. Raised in secrecy, for protection, until he was of age to fight for the Iron Throne.
Barristan was justifiably upset and skeptical at the claim. Daenerys understood, just as disbelieving as the old knight. But nonetheless she requested for Missandei to inquire if she could so, especially when the scribe explained her butterflies. Already the scribe had information trickling through to her, small and scattered yet information nonetheless.
"I am not convinced either," Daenerys said in response to Barristan's continued disbelief. "But if someone has truly stolen the name of my nephew, then I wish to know who he is. Then we can discover if this is a farce. Or...something more."
"I will see what I can find, Your Grace," Missandei said.
"Good. Now tell me, do you know if our enemies are still moving within Essos? The cities themselves, who acted against me. Who knows how eagerly they will be to rise again and I wish to know if another war yet looms."
There was a silence from the scribe, making Daenerys' tense. She could hear Barristan's armour clinking as he shifted uneasily.
"What is it?" she said, staring blindly in Missandei's direction.
"I received information just this morn, Your Grace," Missandei said softly, "And the cities of Astapor, Yunkai, Elyria, Tolos and Mantarys have been destroyed. And it has even been said the same has happened to the city of New Ghis upon Ghaen. Your dragon tore down the walls and towers of the cities, and the storms sank them in lightning until they were returned to the dirt. All that remains are ruins and ghosts."
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