"We will make land soon, My Princess," Ser Oswell told her, sticking his head into the cabin without entering entirely, in a way that suggested he would be there only briefly before exiting once more. He tossed in a bundle of clothes. "I apologise for the quality, but we cannot exactly march you through the gate wearing silks." He, she noticed, was wearing a rough spun tunic and simple boiled leather rather than his usual plate and cloak. He made to withdraw, and Dany felt another fierce burst of desperation rush through her, mixing with the fear and anticipation that had made her stomach churn almost continuously for the entirety of their sennights long journey.
"Wait," she called. She swallowed down her nerves. "What of my brother?"
"He remains in Essos with my sworn brother," Ser Oswell said. "Prince Viserys is known to presume too much, My Princess. He needs to be taught the truth of things before we can
introduce him to His Grace. It is my hope that within time, he can be brought here as well. If nothing else, it should be amusing to watch."
Dany nodded, swallowed again. As much as part of her was fiercely glad to be away from him, she missed Viserys so much it hurt. All her life, he had been her one constant, her whole family and the one person she could rely upon. She understood, though. Her brother would not take kindly to learning that he was not the rightful heir to the Throne, and it would do no one any good if he came to their nephew still screaming about what he should be given, what he believed should be his. Still, Dany wished he were here. She wished she were not coming to meet their nephew alone. What if he did not like her? What if he saw her and Viserys as threats and tossed them right back out on the streets? Or worse. What need did he have for them, with a wife of his own and an heir already so close?
However, as much as she dreaded meeting Aegon, she longed for it as well. She longed to see the face of the man who had been a babe in arms when her brother had last seen him, who was so close to her in age. She longed for more family, for someone who she could trust, who might love her without hurting her like Viserys was prone to. And if she wanted that to happen, she had best prepare herself.
She stripped out of the silk dress, which was not exactly presentable anymore either way. Then she pulled on the drab, rough spun dress Ser Oswell had presented her with. The fabric itched her skin, and the cut was foreign. She took a moment to wonder where it even was they were taking her. Where might they have hidden Aegon for all these years? Ser Oswell had not told her to cover her hair, so it had to be somewhere that still held Valyrian descendents. Myr or Lys, perhaps. Or the Stepstones. No. No one would have raised a Prince of the Blood, the rightful king, in a pirates' nest.
As she ascended onto the deck and looked ahead at the land becoming visible ahead of them, she barely bit back a gasp. She did not need anyone to tell her where she was. Even if she had not recognised it from Viserys' stories, she thought her very soul would still have recognised Dragonstone. The home of her ancestors, the place where she was born. But how? How could Aegon be here? Last she heard, Dragonstone was held by Eddard Stark's bastard. How, then, could Ser Oswell think she would be safe here? Unless he meant to give her up. A sharp stab of fear went through her, but before she had time to do anything, they docked in the harbour and Ser Oswell gripped her arm and led her down the gangplank.
Dany's hands trembled and her legs felt less than steady underneath her. Her stomach turned. She wanted to turn around, to run back, go back to Essos and Viserys where, even when everything was uncertain, she was at least not being given up to their enemies. She swallowed painfully, made to jerk her arm free.
Ser Oswell looked at her with eyes that were strangely compassionate. "I swore an oath to your family once," he said, barely breathing the words just under his breath. Dany barely heard him. No one around them could possibly have. "I am no oathbreaker."
Dany fought to lower her own trembling voice until it was as inaudible as his. "The Starks hold Dragonstone," she breathed. "This is not safe. My nephew... You cannot mean to tell me he is here."