Daenerys couldn't sleep that night. It wasn't just her husband's heat that hurt her that night. It was something else, a more profound, darker feeling. She wasn't a woman who would be afraid of things, not anymore. She wasn't a mighty warrior, but she wasn't a frightened little princess either. At least she had enough strength to cut a man's throat.
Although she wasn't sure she could do that to Victarion. The man was sturdy and strong, a good warrior, apparently. He was on his ships; they hadn't left yet, using the excuse that his marines needed rest. She could have simply sent them away, but people were watching.
She didn't want the merchants to think they weren't welcome in ArgentStone. No, she would put up with it for one more day.
The night was dark, hopefully for tomorrow. The iron fleet would no longer be in GodsEye.
Daenerys lay down wearing only a nightgown. She had moved to the highest tower. At first, she wanted to be at the highest part of the tower, but that would be counterproductive; it would be a nuisance to have to go down every day. No, she was content with a lower part of the tower. It would be temporary; soon, a union would be built above the towers. Downstairs would be the Great Hall, and on the upper floors would be the family's bedrooms.
Dany looked at an oil lamp, wondering whether to turn it off or not. She always did the same thing every night, but she always hesitated. But the answer was always the same. She left it on; the fire makes her believe she's safe.
She had barely closed her eyes when she heard it, a horn. It was a horrible, inhuman sound. It was as if it were not meant to be heard by a being that walks the earth. It sounded like torture someone would suffer in hell.
Someone entered her room. Her heart skipped a beat. It was Tohrren. The man looked at her and walked over to get a cloak for her. Daenerys took it.
"I'm sorry, my princess, I thought someone had sneaked into your chambers," the man bowed his head. Daenerys nodded distractedly.
"I've never heard a horn like that before," she said.
"Neither have I," replied the man.
The horn sounded again. This time, it wasn't just that unnatural noise. Three more were heard.
The dragons roared with hatred. As if the sound were the worst thing they had ever heard, a curse against their existence. A sound that existed only to offend them. Daenerys had heard them angry, and now they were furious.
She covered her body as she left. She had to control them; she couldn't let them unleash their fury on the innocent. Despite being at the bottom of the tower, it was still a considerable way down. She needed to find a faster way to get down.
Finally, she left. It was when she touched the grass that she realized she was barefoot, but she didn't care. She kept running.
She looked at the fire in the air... the dragons took flight, and she looked at their silhouettes reflecting the moonlight.
"A horse!" she shouted. She wouldn't be delicate and ask for Silver to be brought to her; she needed speed. They brought her a brown horse, and she mounted it. She wasn't prepared, but it didn't matter; she had to move.
She rode toward the gates, and the dragons flew toward the village.
A horse doesn't move as fast as a dragon. When she left the gates, she saw fire on the small village pier. She urged her horse on, feeling Tohrren asking her to stop. She ignored him.
When she reached the village, she fell rather ungracefully as she dismounted.
Someone offered him a hand to help him up.
She took the hand, her palm feeling hot immediately. She looked at Victarion. Her urgency overcame her fear. She stepped past him. He didn't have enough men to block his way. 'Did he come to help?' wondered the princess. That would make it even more unpleasant for her to turn him away.
"Blackfyre!" she shouted at her dragon.
The three dragons were breathing fire on one of the Greyjoy ships. 'Have they sensed my fear?' She felt a headache coming on. The air smelled of burning wood and something else she couldn't quite identify at that moment. It was unpleasant.
"Is that its name?" Victarion asked beside her. Torrhen stepped between them, his sword drawn.
The black dragon responded to her call.
Daenerys watched the people flee. She didn't blame them; instead, she thanked them. It would be annoying to deal with gossiping people. A group of knights approached on horseback.
"Keep your men away from this, Lord Victarion," Daenerys said, approaching the black dragon. It looked at her, its eyes shining brighter than usual; it was like magma. As if responding to her mood.
She was pushed aside. A sword blocked the path between her and Victarion. The Ironborn walked toward the dragon.
"My brother, deluded..." Victarion muttered. "He dreamed of conquering dragons, but only those chosen by the gods can do so." He seemed entranced by the possibility of riding a dragon.
"You have no Targaryen blood, so step away," Daenerys roared at him. She watched Blackfyre tilt its head to one side. It appeared interested, but Dany saw the mockery in its eyes.
"My brother gave me a horn with the power to control dragons," Victarion said. "I'm sure you heard... that dragon is mine now. Will that serve as an attractive marriage offer, princess?" he asked the woman, his eyes flashing with madness. "Now is it worth looking at me?" He cried at her with a big smile.
"You... you did this? You want to steal a dragon from me?" Daenerys flew into a rage.
To think that he considered it payment for the ship his dragons burned. 'How foolish I was,' she chided herself. 'Why did I hesitate instead of sending him away by force?'
"It's a test of love," said the man, his voice sweet and hoarse.
"Not in a thousand years would I love someone so stupid, so ugly, so weak. If I compare you with my husband... you're a cockroach at his side," said Daenerys. The man opened his eyes, and she saw actual pain in them. That pain was only going to increase from now on. "Dracarys," she said. It was the first time the word came out of her lips to order.
The dragons were like children for her. She didn't want them to burn people... she didn't want them to be used as weapons. But they weren't just gonna fight wars, they were gonna fight to stay alive.
Victarion, a few feet ahead of her, was consumed in a tide of black fire. His body melted, his bones burned. Daenerys recognized the smell; it was the same as the one coming from the ship—the smell of burning flesh.
It seemed she would have to get used to that smell.
"Tohrren." The man nodded, waiting for orders. "The Ironborn, kill them all." There was a small group on the shore. They all lost their fighting spirit when they saw the dragons.
Daenerys didn't care.
She couldn't have children. She probably never would be able to have children. And these people came and thought they could take one away from her? Separate it from her.
Dany walked around the scorched earth. She wasn't so naive as to think her feet wouldn't burn.
She approached her dragon, and he roared in her face. She felt no fear; he wasn't trying to scare her. It was like a child showing his joy. His gesture might seem intimidating, but Daenerys learned that his eyes showed the truth.
The other two dragons continued to burn the ship until it sank, and then they began to circle.
Dany stroked the dragon's snout. He pressed his neck completely to the ground. Dany had never ridden him before... his scales were hot, but not hot enough to burn her. She climbed up, taking advantage of his morphology, and mounted it. There were spikes that she held on to. She felt her heart flip; it wasn't fear, it was ecstasy.
"The word for fly... was Soves," she said as the dragon took flight. She looked down from above at her men slaughtering the Ironborn. "And to attack... I already told you, didn't I, my son? Dracarys," she said as she flew to another Ironborn ship.
That night, she burned everything that had a flag with a Kraken on it. The lake's surface heated up, and a dense, towering layer of steam covered the village.