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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 34: Bride of fire
Chapter Text
Ghidorah fell asleep near immediately after his return to Meereen.
Daenerys had to climb up his neck, a laborious task due to one bound arm and an act that left her sweating and gasping, but she had to tend to her child. When their bond had gripped one another, minds melding like rivers to the ocean, she'd felt his pain and exhaustion. Barristan awaited below, still caught within the tangle of Ghidorah's necks from where he'd fallen asleep as Daenerys heaved herself up onto the rise where the golden Harpy had once stood. It was windy and lightning was forking the air, making the hairs upon her arms stand on end, but Daenerys forced herself to rid Ghidorah's exhausted form of the bolts that had slipped between his scales.
The rain turned her sleeping shift translucent, silvery hair plastered to her skull and fingers slick. Still, she worked diligently. Feeling her way along Ghidorah's bulk and seeing through the glimpses of lightning flashes. There were dozens of bolts trapped in his scales, lodged in the soft skin between the golden chips. None were lethal, much like the one the Golden Company had struck him with, but she did find a scorpion bolt at his hind quarters. It had punctured through mid shaft, nearly the same length as Daenerys' own body. It had lodged between his thigh and hip, in the thinner, more supple skin between the joints. Ghidorah twitched as Daenerys yanked at it but did not rise from his exhausted sleep.
Only sheer determination to return to his mother had stopped Ghidorah from falling from the sky on his exhausted wings. She did not even know if he'd slept in the week that she'd been in slumber. She could not leave him in pain, even if her head still ached and her limbs shook but her child returning had shifted it from a thunderous typhoon to an angry rainfall.
It took her several moments to yank the vicious bolt from Ghidorah's side, black blood splattering Daenerys' slight form as she fell over as it came free. She lay on the stone, staring up at the black churning clouds and lightning still dancing high above. Ghidorah had not awoken when she'd yanked it from him, instead continuing to sleep in the rain and his mother's diligent hands.
The Stormborn and the Stormbringer, one born in the greatest tempest in Westeros' living memory and the other who formed it beneath his great golden wings.
Crawling back to the edge, Daenerys half fell half crawled down Ghidorah's necks and Barristan caught her in his arms before she fell off Ghidorah's head. The dragon was tired enough his heads were still slumped upon the balcony of her chambers, fast asleep. Her shift was ruined, stained in blood with several rips from spines and spikes and sharp scales, and her body soaked with rain. The old knight quickly brought her back inside the pyramid where Missandei took over, urging Daenerys further into her chambers to where a bath was waiting. Then the scribe swiftly cleaned Daenerys, removing the ruined shift and scrubbing the black blood from her skin.
Through it all Daenerys felt almost in a doze. Her child had returned and that yawning emptiness in her mind had vanished. She still felt that strange pain but it was soothed somewhat by Ghidorah's return. He was exhausted, as not since he was freshly hatched had he slept with all three heads. Typically they would sleep in shifts, one always keeping an eye upon the surroundings. But now Daenerys could only feel deep exhausted slumber from his mind. Tired, from his long days of tearing numerous cities asunder.
She would have to claim the broken cities for her own, Daenerys knew. Her regrets would not bring back the countless dead, the slaves who died in chains beneath a tempest. Instead she must take the violence for herself, accept responsibility for her son's actions as any mother must do. Perhaps she could use that knowledge to force surrender in other cities, avoiding more bloodshed. If- when -she headed west she would have to confront the other slaver cities on her march. If not just to feed her people then to stamp out the masters like the poisonous weeds they were.
There was also the issue of Qarth; if she left west then it would give them opportunity to slither back in. The kingdom of Yi Ti typically stayed to themselves so she would not have to consider that far east. Though it did make her think of the tale Missandei told her, of the Bloodstone Emperor. Did the first Long Night stretch that far east? Or were there creatures like the Others in the eastern part of the world? She knew the Grey Waste was an immense frozen desert to the north east. Could it be akin to the Land of Always Winter?
Distantly, Daenerys was aware of Missandei coaxing her from the bath and drying her down. But all Daenerys could think about was what was to come and how she could move forward. Her despair would not bring back the dead, she could only hope to utilize the fear the masters would now hold to her. Especially since her child had returned to her. Bleeding and injured, but his eye had healed. The bolt wound had healed. These ones must as well. For they had to look forward. To the white shadows Aemon warned her about. Which Quaithe warned her about. What her blood warned her about.
The following days Ghidorah slept. The storm had ebbed, sky blue and sun shining, yet the golden dragon continued to sleep the deep slumber of sheer exhaustion. She checked him, gladdened to see his injures had healed with the blister like seal. The one from the scorpion bolt was taking far longer but Daenerys reasoned it was due to its size and depth. He was healing.
Daenerys herself was not idle. Her head still ached but her restored connection to her son helped ease the pain. At least the light did not near make her vomit. And life would not wait for her to heal. She must protect her people and forge a path onward, especially if she had to secure her people before the Others revealed themself. Aemon could not speak as to know when they would truly come, but Daenerys would not sit idle until they had frozen the Narrow Sea.
Firstly she sent a threatening and strongly worded message to Qarth demanding the release of their slaves and removal from the slave trade or she'd burn down their Hall of a Thousand Thrones and tear down the three walls. Lacking any diplomacy but Daenerys was sick of offering a chance to the slavers only for them to spit in her eye and stab her in the back. Missandei took care to send the missives using one of her increasingly large amount of hawks.
On that limb she also made letters for the likes of Volantis, Lys and Tyrosh demanding much the same. To withdraw from the slave trade or suffer the consequences.
There was a far more diplomatic and calm letter sent to Braavos, again offering friendship to the Sea Lord and making her declaration much more clear. Braavos had forever been enemies to the slave trade and she hoped they could work together to help stamp it out when she would move on from Meereen.
There was the issue of the Dothraki; they were a backbone to the slave trade in Essos, with their raids and roaming across the country. She would have to deal with the horselords just as she did with the masters at some point. Vaes Dothrak was their heart. Luckily traders were free to venture there and she made a note to ask Missandei, to probe for information in the Dothraki city. Daenerys vaguely remembered they would have yearly gatherings of the khals but she could not remember when.
There was also the Sons of the Harpy and Daenerys was completely fed up with them and simply bitter and furious. The council meetings just stirred her anger further, worse and worse until she felt like snarling at anything Reznak said about those cowards and their knives in the dark. She thought their selfish stupidity would have ebbed after witnessing her and her child destroy the slaver alliance yet it seemed they refused to learn. Slowly in the back of her mind a plan began to form, of what to do with the traitors within her walls. But before she could enact it she must wait for her child to heal and recover from his exhaustion.
At the very least, on the whole Meereen was secure. It was as Barristan and Missandei reported, the siege broken and many useful items salvaged from the camp. The stricken were dying at a steady rate, from Skahaz's reports, and should have perished by the end of the week. Until then they were condemned to the camp to die.
There was also the replanting of the crops, the slaver army acting as a plague of locusts and destroying everything she'd originally planted. At the least they had the wayward livestock from the army to help with foodstores, along with sheep and goats for cheese and milk. The fish were still taken far from Meereen's shore, to avoid the bloated dead still nibbled at by the sea.
On that front, she would have to interrogate the Ironborn as well. She still didn't know the true nature of that horrible horn or the effect it still held upon her. Ghidorah had also felt whatever black sorcery was within it. But they were held safely in their cells and Meereen had to be cleaned first.
Daario had not yet returned from Khyzai pass but neither had Missandei brought word of any master host lurking in the hills. It seems her child had well and truly broken them with his rage, even if the scribe was unable to confirm if Ghidorah had indeed reached as far as New Ghis. Perhaps when he awoke she could fly there to confirm it herself.
At least that was one thing Missandei and Barristan did not condemn her for. Her child and his rage. Even if she took responsibility for his actions, claimed them as her own.
She had to wonder if Aegon would hear of her actions, from where he was in Westeros. If it simply vindicated his decision not to reach out to her, thinking she was mad and killed any and all.
Aemon had not, however, and she kept his chains close. She had a belt forged with his maesters chains lined through, and a scabbard to keep Blackfyre with her. The sword was long enough she had to keep the pommel pressed, to avoid tripping over its length yet she felt less lonely as a Targaryen, with two heirlooms close. One gifted with dying hands and another taken with fire and blood. No longer did Daenerys bother with her gowns, now she kept her herself clad in garb akin to her Dothraki clothing; built for durability and maneuverability, wearing sturdy breeches and boots with shimmering sandsilk tunics with chaimmail forged into the sides akin to a corset to protect her organs. Black and red, edges of gold as Ghidorah's colour. Tiny embroiled dragons at the hems, the largest sewn upon her breast directly over her heart. She took to wearing the three headed dragon crown while walking through the pyramids or at her council, even if its weight exacerbated the pain in her head.
At least she was regaining her strength, however slowly. But she would not wait for her enemies to recover as well.
It was on that line of thought Daenerys also went through with banning the tokar entirely from Meereen. She ignored the protests from Reznak and the Green Grace- she had not forgiven nor forgotten Barristan's words, that the priestess had told them to murder her child and lied about her death. The tokar was a symbol of the masters and she didn't care about placating them anymore. When she was gentle and fair it just left her people dead and she cared not for the masters and their dying world anymore.
But she would not be blind to the needs of her people. Though she disliked it, she also began plans to reintegrate the fighting pits. She installed new rules, age restrictions and protections which would take some weeks to fully suffice but she knew the people of Meereen needed something. Especially since the time limit would be before her plans to deal with the Harpy. That, and she'd gotten another audience and request from the past fighting slaves again, asking for the pit. Both her Meereenese advisors also advocated for the pits to be reopened, and even when she spoke to the freedmen or her khalasar. So while she may personally dislike it, she would listen in that regard if not adding her own restrictions. One main change was that those who did the fighting would take the majority of coin with them. She ignored the masters who complained, instead snapping they could fight in the pit themselves if that type of gold meant that much to them. They left the audience after that.
Daenerys knew her attitude was severely strained, especially with Barristan and Missandei mentioning rather passively upon it. Neither condemned her nor argued but she listened to their opinions nonetheless. At the very least they offered their opinions without the blustering and pushiness of Reznak or Skahaz.
But still, even if she still felt ill and shaky if she remained standing for too long or around too much noise, Daenerys was recovering slowly. Her appetite was ravenous, especially for meat, and when she slept it would be deep and dreamless. She was quite glad for that, as she remembered that feverish dream after the horn and the strange creatures and places she saw. She did not know what any of it meant and was unsure if it even meant anything at all.
To her surprise, the following morn of the third day Ghidorah returned Missandei brought her word that a small contingency from Volantis had arrived. Flying the flag of Volantis and one of a flaming heart. Requesting an audience with the queen of Meereen. She thought it could be a response to her fairly angry missive so Daenerys agreed, letting herself be pulled away from the logistics meeting she was having with Grey Worm and the leaders of her freemen to await the visitors.
"You stand before Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, The Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Ghidorah the Stormbringer."
"Announcing Kinvara, High Priestess of the Red Temple of Volantis, the Flame of Truth, the Light of Wisdom, and Servant of the Lord of Light."
The woman who stepped forward was tall, clad in robes of rich crimson and cut in a way that left her broad shoulders bare. A dark red amulet sat heavy at the hollow of her throat, shimmering with a strange light. Her hair was dark and tumbled down her back and shoulders in shimmering waves while her cat-like eyes were a sharp green. The belt at her waist was locked with a buckle of a crimson heart surrounded by flames. To her side, the man who had announced the woman swiftly stepped back to the shadows at the archway to become unobtrusive, tattoos of flame across his cheeks.
Daenerys was seated on her customary bench, golden crown upon her silvery tresses. One slight hand rested on the pommel of Blackfyre, the scabbard propped up along the bench next to her hip. The braziers hadn't been lit, the only light being the nature sun which streamed through the scant windows. High above, Daenerys could feel her child and his continued sleep. To either side of her was the ever present Barristan and Missandei.
She spoke, "I did not expect such a prompt response to my missive, however it is welcomed provided Volantis is obligating with my demands."
The woman shook her head, glossy locks sliding over her shoulders, "If you speak of your demand to free the slaves, then I fear it is known the triarchs are not inclined to obey."
Daenerys' violet eyes narrowed, "Then are you here as a declaration of war?"
"Not at all. You are the one who was promised, Daenerys Stormborn," Kinvara said, curtsying to her with a graceful movement as her skirts swirled around her. "From the fire you were reborn to remake this world, to lead the people from the savage darkness that seeks to consume us all. I have come to offer my aid in your campaign. When the fight comes to life against death."
"R'hllor's champion?" Daenerys said skeptically. She had not expected such a thing when told of the Volantenes asking for an audience.
"Yes. Our High Priest Benerro has seen it in the flames. As has myself and many of those who look within light. You are Azor Ahai reborn, birthed amidst salt and smoke to wake dragons from stone."
"I have seen many faiths," Daenerys said carefully, suddenly feeling that this woman before her was more dangerous than anyone else she had met. "I cannot say for what your god may say to you."
After all, she'd seen the failures in prophecy with Rhaego. But still, Aemon had spoken of such a thing...
"These is another," Barristan suddenly spoke from Daenerys' side, his stern eyes never once leaving the priestess. "In Westeros, a red witch dripped poison into the ear of Stannis Baratheon. Burning his own people and believing in this red god's will. Last I had seen, his fleet and army had been destroyed in the Battle of the Blackwater and heard he had vanished to the frozen North and there he has stayed."
Kinvara did not rebuke Barristan's words, simply nodding before she said, "Yes. I cannot speak for what my sister saw within the flames or what she believed she saw, yet men and women make mistakes. Even honest servants of the Lord of Light. But Benerro sees true and he has seen you many times, Daenerys Stormborn. It is why he sent me to you as he knew the other never would reach you. And as for your request to Volantis, the triachs know better than to tempt us faithful and they will learn that more severely soon enough. Many children of R'hllor live within Volantis, and we lead more to the truth each day. When you come to our city, it will be as your friend and loyal servants and we will hold true to your demands. R'hllor has sent you to us and we all obey his fiery will."
"How can I be this...Azor Ahai any more than Stannis Baratheon was spoken as?" Daenerys asked. "How can you know more than that other red priestess?"
"Because I know you have seen them. You have seen the white shadows. They come to you in dreams. The children of the Great Other, whom the dying blind dragon told you in his final moments."
Daenerys bristled, fingers briefly brushing against the chain merged with the belt at her waist. "Aemon?"
"Just as I said, my queen. We are servants of the Lord of Light and he has let us know well of you, to let Benerro the First Servant, see you true. His chosen, the one he has given the shining path. Your dragon is light made living," Kinvara said, placing a hand upon her breast. "A gift from R'hllor, for his bride of fire."
Bride of fire? Daenerys felt as if she'd heard such a title before but she could not recall where. But did this priestess have the same powers as Quaithe? The shadowbinder had known of Aemon as well and sent Daenerys there so she may 'do what she must'. Was Kinvara, was this Benerro, the same? They saw something similar and came to her? She felt disturbed at the idea she was the focus of a god. Daenerys was barely functioning upon the focus of people, a city, alone. Much less the strange fiery god of Essos who she knew so little.
"So what is your true purpose here, beyond speaking for your god?" Daenerys demanded her.
Kinvara smiled, "To show you the way."
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