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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 39: Salt and smoke
Chapter Text
Kinvara's curtsy was low, the gem at her throat sparkling and crimson skirts flowing around her. Her voice was warm and welcoming as she said, "Queen Daenerys, I am glad you have come to me."
Daenerys still felt uncomfortable around the woman, due to her strange red god and her green eyes that seemed unfathomably old. Nonetheless she accepted the woman's hospitality, being led into her chambers to be seated. It seemed much the same as any other guest room within the Great Pyramid except for a large brazier set within the middle that was smoldering with embers that glittered like jewels. There was an assortment of vials and satchels set upon a small desk next to the brazier, Daenerys eyeing them as she sat down. She declined the priestess's offer of wine and sugared fruit, and so Kinvara settled down opposite her.
Truthfully she did not wish to be there. Her past with maegi was ill fated, with Mirri Maz Duur and the Undying. Yet the shadowbinder Quaithe, despite her strange and mysterious nature, had granted her a chance to meet Aemon and she was still grateful. And in all honesty she were woefully unprepared for the Others, who were magic. Once her supper with Prince Quentyn she had tried to retire to her bed, only to toss and turn as her mind churned like a stormy sea. Frustrated, she'd eventually risen from bed and sought out the red priestess, to learn more about 'the way' as she had no other choice and sleep doggedly eluded her. Despite the late hour she had barely knocked upon Kinvara's door before the woman had answered.
As if she had been waiting patiently. Expectantly.
"Do you presume to know my reason for why I am here?" Daenerys couldn't help but ask, despite the ill manner of her words.
"I can guess many things, but the true will of R'hllor's bride is your own."
"Did not your flames tell you?" she asked. Her tone was almost accusatory.
Kinvara smiled, entirely unbothered by Daenerys' rudeness. "You are skeptical, I understand. It can be difficult for those who have been forsaken to believe that the Lord of Light exists. Much less for one to understand that she is the beloved of a god."
"If I am indeed this so-called...bride of fire, then why didn't any of you come to me earlier?" Daenerys said.
"You had your own path to walk, Daenerys Stormborn," Kinvara said. "You had to find your strength, your purpose. Our Lord of Light can shine upon his chosen yet they still must do so for themselves. He can whisper to us yet cannot speak for us. Many are too blinded by the light. You forged your path. Yes, R'hllor granted you your dragon. A beast that is light made living. Yet you had to make the decision to walk into the pyre to retrieve your child. You made that choice yourself. The call was exactly that- a call, not a push. You had to make that step yourself. Many of the faithful can find that notion...difficult. Faith is exactly that, yet you must make the choice yourself to heed the Lord of Light."
Daenerys did not respond to that even if she understood the woman's words. Though she was still not convinced of R'hllor, she knew enough that maegi were not to be underestimated. There was her own House's history with prophetic dreams. And she had sought out Kinvara for her own reasons, to try and learn more about the Others or some means to confront them as they were woefully in the dark, not just to sling accusations.
"But regardless," Kinvara straightened, her cat-like eyes boring in Daenerys' own, "I feel you have come for something important. I do not know what but rest assured I will do everything within my power to aid you."
"I have several things I wish to discus. First being that when I spoke to the ironborn prisoners, they claimed a red priest was onboard the ship with the Greyjoy captain," Daenerys said bluntly. "That was the same vessel that held a strange horn, covered in Valyrian glyphs. It was said to have come from Old Valyria itself, the Dragonbinder."
"Yes, I heard of the noise that horn created during the siege," Kinvara said. "And I do know the priest you speak of. Or Benerro informed me of him. Moqorro. He was aboard a vessel towards Qarth yet the First Follower knew he would not reach his destination. Beyond that I only hold speculation, my queen."
"You claim the red faith are favourable towards me, so why would he aid the Greyjoy captain in trying to kill me with that horn?" Daenerys demanded. If her child had not caught her, then she knew she would've been swallowed by the sea to join the flotsam of corpses.
"I cannot say as to what my red brother was thinking, but I know of Moqorro and he would never betray R'hllor," Kinvara said. "It could be he felt the horn was important to you, that it was instrumental you see it in order to aid your journey. Hear it, that hellish noise perhaps. May I ask, my queen, if you felt such a thing when it was blown? Saw something in the dark? Or even when you first laid eyes upon it?"
Daenerys was silent for a long moment, thinking over the words. She thought of that dream, with that being of gold in the sky and how it ended with her throat torn asunder and plummeting to her death in the Land of Always Winter. Of the green fire and the corpse of her brother. Kinvara did not claim to know her dream but she seemed sure that the horn was needed for a reason. And then there was Daenerys' own conviction the dream was important. Why or how, she did not know. Or if it was just important to her. It was strange but she kept thinking about the Land of Always Winter and that great tree.
But, she had come to speak to Kinvara for a reason and if the red priestess believed what she witnessed after the horn was in anyway important then she must tell the woman so. Even if she would keep herself wary as she told Kinvara about the bizarre dream she'd had after the horn was blown.
Kinvara's reaction was much like Missandei's; curiosity.
"The dreams of dragons have ever been entwined with fire, as dragons are fire made flesh. Yet dreams tie heavily with visions and those of Old Valyrian are entwined with such things," Kinvara said thoughtfully once Daenerys was finished, tapping a nail on her chin. "This vision is...strange indeed but if you witnessed it then it must have a meaning even if none are yet clear. Especially when it led you to Westeros and across the Wall. It must have meaning. A single one or many, I cannot say. But perhaps we can try to detangle it."
Daenerys eyed her speculatively, "Why do you believe it is indeed that important? Could it not just be some fevered dream? Many others injured and delirious have suffered such a thing and I was said to have a fearsome fever."
"Life is warmth and warmth is fire and fire is God's and God's alone," Kinvara intoned. "Our Lord chose to protect you, when you walked among the pyre. He wrapped you in his warm, loving embrace and took you as his wife and granted you a child. You are the rock dropping into a pond and the ripples influence everything around it. I will not neglect this vision of yours even if I do not understand it."
"And you state this due to what you may have seen in fire? What led you here to...show me the way?"
"He speaks to us through fire and smoke and ash and cinder. Even for us priests and priestesses, gifted with sight, it can take years before we see true. What we see is truth but how we see it may lead us astray. Seldom are they blunt, easy for mortal eyes to comprehend."
"Ser Barristan spoke of a red priestess who is at Stannis Baratheon's side and believe him to be the one who was promised and many have died from her foolishness. How is your truth different?" Daenerys asked. She would not bind herself to this red god, especially not with the destruction it has caused in Westeros. She would not burn her subjects in favour of a god. She had followers of many different faiths and worship.
Kinvara frowned, "While I have no doubt my sister may have seen Stannis in the flames and he may be of important to stand against the Others, I believe she is mistaken when she chose to herald him as Azor Ahai. Azor Ahai, the beloved of R'hllor. Who was born amidst salt and smoke and to wake dragons from stone. Stannis Baratheon has no dragons to speak of. You woke yours, walking through a roaring pyre below the falling red star. Benerro knows this as well, and he sees further in the flames than any other. He has proclaimed you."
Daenerys narrowed her eyes. That was why she knew to beware of prophecies, for they were never what they seemed. She only had the word of an enigmatic woman that she was the focus of this rather than a man in Westeros who had tried to murder her as an infant. And humans made mistakes. She certainly had. Yet Kinvara was the only maegi she knew, as Quaithe was like the wind and came and went as she chose.
"I understand you are still skeptical and wary of me and my kith," Kinvara said, a wry twist to her lips. "I know well those not within our faith may take time to accept it yet time is precious little to us when the Others seek to march. You know this truth, at least and that is all I demand. Stories spoken to you from your departed kin who knew the stories of the Wall well and the monsters beyond in the Land of Always Winter. They move at the behest of one whose name may not be spoken. You may not believe in anything else but you believe in the dark."
"Who is this one unnamed which commands the Others?" she asked, "What even is it?"
"The Great Other," Kinvara said and the shadows seemed to thicken within the room. "The Lord of Darkness, the Soul of Ice, the God of Night and Terror. We never speak his name for it can pull his gaze down upon us. His enemy is life itself, which is why the dead are his soldiers and the ageless are his children. Death is his domain and nothing else, and if he should win this Long Night then death is all that will remain."
"The red priestess speaks the truth, Daenerys Stormborn."
Both women stiffened at the voice, both turning to witness Quaithe move forth from the corner of shadows. The darkness seemed to merge into her black cloak, her wooden mask a slash of bright crimson in the dark and eyes glimmering like stars through the slits.
"Shadowbinder," Kinvara's voice was sharp as a blade.
"Red witch," Quaithe's response was far more mild.
"You can see her?" Daenerys said, surprised.
"I am letting her," Quaithe replied easily, not moving from her shadowed corner. "The faithful blind themselves in the light and see demons in the dark so oft they rarely look to the shadows."
"You hide in the shadows and flee from the light," Kinvara's green eyes narrowed as the woman partially rose from her seat as if prepared to hurl herself at Quaithe like a wildcat. "Why would-"
"Kinvara, Quaithe is a proven friend," Daenerys' voice cut through the argument before it could begin. "She gave me invaluable information about Aemon Targaryen and led me to Blackfyre. If not for her I would not have been able to meet with my great great uncle and learn of the Others nor reclaim my ancestral sword. I do not understand this quarrel 'tween you both but I have no tolerance for it continuing in such a dire conversation."
She did not know what type of history the two mysterious women, or even if they had one and if it was more of a 'professional' grievance of sorts, but she knew better than to let it extend further. Across from her Kinvara lowered herself back into her seat, gown shifting around her in crimson waves.
"Of course," Kinvara said as her features relaxed as if they'd never been twisted in the first place. "As long as she remains a loyal subject to you, my queen, she has nothing to fear from me."
"We wish the same, the defeat of the Others. If the red priestess also wants to show you the way towards such a course, then I have no objections to her presence." Quaithe agreed.
Daenerys relaxed slightly at that. Even if the two magic users disliked one another they had enough sense to be civil as their goals aligned. A part of her wanted to question them further, wondering if there was historical differences between Asshai and Volantis, or even between those who used fire magic and those who used shadow, but her curiosity over the matter would have to wait.
"Though I am curious, Quaithe, why have you revealed yourself now?" Daenerys instead asked the masked woman.
"Because you are speaking to a red priest, for while I disagree with some methods there is always strength in fire magic. The end of an age is approaching. We must all prepare," Quaithe replied.
"You speak so plainly when before your mouth was only filled with riddles."
"What I told you before was what was needed to be said," Quaithe spoke calmly. "No more, no less. However you understand it is for you alone, Daenerys. When I am told to speak plain then I do so, such as with Aemon Targaryen. Beyond that I only know what I know."
"And knowledge is sorely lacking," Kinvara added. "The lands beyond the Wall are near always barred from sight, they are cloaked by the Great Other's storms and it is with upmost peril to see into his eyes. That is why we must heed the flames and the whispers within."
"But I know not what that dream sought to tell me. It was as tangled as a bramble bush and made ill sense," Daenerys said.
"Then we can call more directly," Kinvara rose from her seat in a rustle of skirts. "Your visions have come from sleep and sleep alone. You have not reached out to the flames. Perhaps they can tell you, to guide you to your next move."
Daenerys was not convinced. "How is looking within a fire meant to grant me insight?"
"You are the heir of Daenys the Dreamer, the seer who saved House Targaryen from the extinction of Valyria. Her blood is within you and it has passed through many other Targaryens of yore. If we add your blood to the flames then you may see your future. May see the next step of the path you must take. Dragons are fire made flesh and you are from the last living House of dragons," Kinvara spoke solemnly and the coals within the brazier seemed to burn brighter, nearly shifting into true flames.
Glancing at the brazier Daenerys felt uneasy. To attempt some magical invocation, she was unsure. Her brief forays into magic had led to disaster or attempted murder, with the likes of Mirri Maz Duur and the House of the Undying who all sought to kill her.
"There is power in kings blood," Kinvara continued. "And queens blood. You have both, here."
"I may be a queen yet I have no king."
"Your child," Quaithe spoke.
"Ghidorah?"
"Yes. He is the king of all dragons. His blood will suffice as your bond with your child is deep and strong and made of magic."
Queen Daenerys and King Ghidorah. Strangely enough, the title seemed to fit perfectly with her child's name.
It was why Daenerys went to the top of the Great Pyramid to attain a vial of Ghidorah's blood. Her child was curious as to her intentions and allowed her to cut open his gum with a dagger and let the black blood drip down his fang into the vial. His scales were too strong for her to puncture with merely a small knife. His presence in her mind was strong and watchful.
When she filled the blood and delivered it back, she noticed how Kinvara stared hard at it before the woman stoked the brazier back to life. The flames rose eagerly under the red priestess's urging and she tossed within a powder that made the flames rise higher still in excited twisting tongues. In the dark, Quaithe sidled forward with the shadows still clinging to her like a living thing as the firelight danced across the crimson of her mask.
"I do not understand what I should see if anything at all," Daenerys said evenly, the vial of black blood within her hand. The hairs upon her nape were on end. It felt like when Mirri Maz Duur used her magic upon Drogo, a sense of increasing disturbance. The shadows cast by the flames made her leery. She feared they would dance.
"You need not fear, Daenerys," Quaithe's words were soft. "This is simply invoking a vision, urged upon you with droplets freely given. It is no blood sacrifice, no life sacrifice. Nothing else will be taken."
"Indeed, it will only be droplets. No life cast to the flames. It only calls to R'hllor, to the fire, and he will not demand your life to seek your path," Kinvara added.
Despite her misgivings she found herself relaxing somewhat from the women's words. She had been foolish before with bloodmagic, with a maegi's aid. This was unlike that day, it was only offering small things. Not bodies, not life and there was no child in her womb to murder.
Still, she could feel Ghidorah pressing through their bond. Paying close attention as Kinvara took the vial from Daenerys and emptied it into the flames. They flared, curling like dragon wings. Then it was a small cut upon Daenerys' forearm, deep enough her blood spilled down into the fire to join her son's. It dripped in a steady trickle and made the fire dance before Kinvara pressed a painted fingertip to the wound and it was if there had never been one at all.
"Now watch the flames, Daenerys Stormborn," Kinvara's words were soft as she gently urged her even closer towards the brazier. "The fire will tell you. You've felt R'hllor's loving embrace before. Look. Look to the shades, the heat, the colours. Remember that time you walked forward and birthed your child? The fire is your lover, your husband. It will never harm you."
Daenerys felt herself leaning forward, Ghidorah's presence pulsating at the front of her brain. Her hands landed upon the lip of the brazier yet as Kinvara said the heat was intense, near unbearable, but drove no welts or melting flesh upon her.
The fire hissed and spat and opposite Daenerys in the darkness was Quaithe. Her mask seemed to melt into the flames as tongues of orange and red licked at Daenerys' fingers. She was the blood of the dragon, and the fire was in her.
Lead us from the darkness, O my Lord. Fill our hearts with fire, so we may walk your shining path. R'hllor, you are the light in our eyes, the fire in our hearts, the heat in our loins. Yours is the sun that warms our days, yours the stars that guard us in the dark of night.
The prayer was soft, a whisper through her ears. The fire hummed and danced, Daenerys trying to focus. What should she see? What would it be? Should she simply watch the flames and assume things?
Would it be like the one from the horn? The living dream, the lucidness? Or something easily forgotten like the shadow of a fish within a deep pond?
Daenerys inhaled and suddenly she was overwhelmed with the scent of salt. Something she'd grown used to, living in a city upon the coast. Upon her journeys upon the sea, the surf and churning waves. The freshness of the sea, the great unknown depth of the ocean. So pungent and overwhelming in the room.
R'hllor who gave us breath, we thank you. R'hllor who gave us day, we thank you. We thank you for the sun that warms us. We thank you for the stars that watch us. We thank you for our hearths and for our torches, that keep the savage dark at bay.
Her eyes stung as the flames seemed to dance along her fingers, to cling to her wrists with a gentle heated grip. She leaned in further, salt thick in her nostrils as the fire continued to churn and twist. It reminded her of the pyre that night beneath the stars, when she lit Drogo's body aflame and then walked into the inferno.
R'hllor, look down upon us. Defend us. Protect us in the darkness. Shine your face upon us. Give us wisdom. Show your bride of fire what she must do, fill her with your light and heat and love. For the night is dark and full of terrors.
The flames writhed in the brazier, like dancers clad in reds and orange and tipped in vibrant blues. Whirling and singing and spinning with their yellow and orange and crimson veils and silken ribbons, fearsome and untouchable, yet lovely, so lovely, alive with heat and movement. She saw the fire, the brightness and heat like a lovers kiss. The fire was hers, cradling her hands and stroking at her face.
Then a noise began to sound, drowning out the red priestess's prayers. It echoed through her head like the pounding of a drum, filled her ears with nothing else. To any other it may be mistaken from drums or a an army stomping in beat but Daenerys knew instantly it was none of those.
Quaithe's voice whispered in her ear, as if the woman was leaning right against her. Barely heard beneath the rhythmic thud-thud-thud that rumbled through her brain and burrowed into her bones.
Remember who you are, Daenerys Stormborn. Your dragon knows. Do you?
But before she could think upon it the fire flared suddenly and Daenerys found herself coughing as smoke flooded her vision, backing away from the brazier as she hacked and wheezed painfully. Her eyes were watering, lungs seizing, the smoke so strong and overpowering she was briefly blinded.
In the brazier the fire ebbed and faded from its dancing tongues until even the coals went black and it died entirely. The room grew cold.
"What did you see, my queen?" Kinvara hovered close, poised to catch Daenerys if she should fall. In the shadows Quaithe watched silently, her eyes glimmering in the dark.
"I...I didn't see anything," Daenerys managed to utter, coughing again to clear her throat. "Only flames then the smoke seared my eyes shut and my nose was filled with the reek of salt."
"Was there anything else?"
"Thunder. I heard- no, not thunder. I thought I heard dragon wings, so many of them," Daenerys managed to somewhat right herself, suddenly feeling unbearably tired. She let Kinvara lead her back to her chair, which she promplty collapsed into. Her heart was fluttering in her breast and through their bond she could feel Ghidorah's confusion. He had sensed the same thing she had, curious and puzzled in equal measure.
The wing beats, there had been so many. She was well used to the crack of Ghidorah's great wings to be unable to mistake it for anything else. But that had not been one or two or even three dragons. It had been many hundreds flying together. But the suddenly blinding smoke scorching her vision, her lungs choking...
"Salt, smoke and dragon wings," Daenerys muttered, pressing a hand against her aching temples.
"I believe there is only one place left with the sensations of salt and smoke and dragon wings, even if its time is long since passed," Quaithe said solemnly from the shadows.
"What place?" she asked.
"Old Valyria, my queen, hidden deep within the Smoking Sea," Kinvara's eyes were gleaming emeralds, face only inches from Daenerys' own. "I believe the flames showed you Old Valyria."
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