Main Content
Archive of Our OwnArchive of Our OwnHi, TheBrimmedHat!PostLog Out
FandomsBrowseSearchAboutWork Search
tip: lex m/m (mature OR explicit)
Actions
Entire Work ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter → Chapter Index Edit Bookmark Mark for Later Comments Hide Creator's Style Share Download
Work Header
Rating:
Teen And Up Audiences
Archive Warnings:
Graphic Depictions Of ViolenceMajor Character Death
Category:
Gen
Fandoms:
Game of Thrones (TV)Godzilla - All Media TypesA Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. MartinA Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Characters:
Daenerys TargaryenKing GhidorahJorah MormontMissandei (ASoIaF)Grey WormBarristan SelmyTyrion LannisterJon SnowQuaithe (ASoIaF)The Others (ASoIaF)Samwell TarlyMaester AemonKinvara (Game of Thrones)Aegon Targaryen (Son of Elia)Jon ConningtonShireen Baratheon
Additional Tags:
Not Canon CompliantCanon-Typical ViolenceGhidorah is still Dany's babbyintelligent GhidorahTelepathyTelepathic BondParent-Child RelationshipGame of Thrones Fix-ItThunder and LightningBAMF Daenerys TargaryenDaenerys Targaryen Deserves BetterDaenerys did nothing wrongMissandei Deserves Better (ASoIaF)Literally all the women in GoT deserve betterNot Beta ReadBAMF WomenWomen Being AwesomeA mix of the show and the booksDragon RidersSymbiotic RelationshipDaenerys Targaryen Is Not a Mad Queennot stark friendlyHope vs. DespairTargaryen RestorationDaenerys Targaryen-centricDragonsMinor Original Character(s)Character Death@D&D ruthless doesn't mean Mad™And doesn't mean you'll just randomly burn the shit out of civiliansNo RomanceImplied/Referenced Child AbuseImplied/Referenced Rape/Non-conImplied/Referenced IncestDaenerys Targaryen is Azor AhaiWhite Walkers (A Song of Ice and Fire)
Language:
English
Collections:
✨An Assortment of DAMN Good Fics✨, Earth Shakers - World Makers, Shady GoT Faves (Including Crossovers), JNW1'S favourite ASOIAF/GoT fics
Stats:
Published:2020-04-25Updated:2026-04-06Words:409,591Chapters:71/?Comments:5,535Kudos:6,019Bookmarks:1,659Hits:466,902
The Stormborn and the Stormbringer
SkilledWarriorKiwi
Chapter 13: The proposal
Chapter Text
Daenerys woke surrounded by gold.
She felt groggy, muscles pleasantly sore as she shifted. The mass she was lying against exhaled and Daenerys realized she was pressed up against Ghidorah's side, tucked between his middle neck and shoulder with a neck coiled around her while a great wing was stretched over her like a tent canvas. Her child was curled around her like a cat upon her kittens. Daenerys could feel her body moving up and down in time with Ghidorah's steady breathing, the golden dragon in deep slumber.
While she didn't mind sleeping some more, Daenerys could see the brightness of Ghidorah's wing membranes to know it was now day. Carefully she extracted herself from her child, the dragon's sleep deep enough he didn't stir. Daenerys couldn't even remember Ghidorah returning to the Great Pyramid after the storm; the last she could remember was the roar of thunder and flashes of lightning, skin and hair soaked with rain as they flew through the black clouds.
Now the sky was clear as she squirmed out from Ghidorah's wing, squinting at the brilliant sun. However she could see the flooded land outside Meereen's walls and at the wharf she could see how some of the ships had broken masts or torn sails, the sailors streaming over them like ants from such a distance. No doubt there was more damage within the city itself, which she couldn't see.
Eventually Daenerys climbed down one of Ghidorah's tails, using the spikes along the scaled length like a ladder to carefully lower herself down onto the balcony of her chambers. She still felt exhausted in the best way, muscles aching and clothing ragged with her hair a knotted mess.
"Your Grace!"
Daenerys jumped at Missandei's cry, the scribe running out of her chambers the moment Daenerys stepped towards the doors.
"Your Grace, are you unharmed?" the other woman fretted even as Daenerys saw Jorah hurry into the room.
Abruptly Daenerys realized how it must've looked to Missandei when she'd come to wake her; the room in disarray, clothes strewn across the floor with her bed covers thrown aside and the window shutters wide open to the storm with no sign of the queen.
"I- forgive me, Missandei," Daenerys said, feeling embarrassed, "I was flying with Ghidorah and fell asleep with him, I was unaware of the late hour."
"Last night? During the storm?' Missandei asked even as she finished checking over Daenerys for any potential injury.
"Khalessi-" Jorah's voice was breathless and his hands hovered over her shoulders, as if he wanted to grab her to make sure she really was standing before him.
"My apologies for making any of you worry," Daenerys said, reaching out to squeeze Jorah's hand, "I had been sleeping with my child and slumbered far longer than intended. I am unharmed."
"We had feared that the Sons of the Harpy had perhaps taken you," Missandei said, though the tense line of her shoulders had now relaxed, "I reasoned your dragon would not be sleeping so patiently if so, despite our fears. I should have tried to rouse your dragon."
Jorah's relief was palpable and he quickly informed the others of her Queensguard and council she was quite safe. As he did so, Missandei helped Daenerys bathe and then spent a long amount of time carefully combing free the tangles snarled within her hair. Daenerys tried not to wince as Missandei methodically soothed out the gnarled tresses before weaving together a braid. Another smaller braid was tied just behind her ear, with the silver bells threaded through. Then a dress of white with a golden collar and bangles for her wrists, the necklace of dragon tooth around her throat and a ring with a large shimmering pearl upon a band of silver for a single finger.
Once presentable Daenerys met with her council which, once again, brought bad news when she granted the audience with the envoy of Astapor.
There were only four awaiting an audience with her but the first, Ghael from Astapor, brought bad tidings indeed.
"Your Radiance," he moaned, bony fingers clawing at the front of his robes, "The armies of the Yunkai'i descend on Astapor and bring death and misery. I beg of you, come south with all your strength!"
"I am not the regent of Astapor," Daenerys said harshly, "Cleon's war is of his own making, when he turned into a master and destroyed whatever peace was there."
Ghael ignored her words, "I know that the Mother of Dragons will not abandon us in our hour of peril so I rushed here with as much speed as I could summon. Lend us your Unsullied to defend our walls."
"And if I do, who will defend my walls? Many of my freedmen were slaves in Astapor and chose to follow me. Perhaps some will wish to help defend your king when you cite your need. That is their choice, as is the right of free men. I gave Astapor its freedom. It is up to you to defend it, it is up to your king to defend it."
"We are all dead, then. You gave us death, not freedom." Ghael scrambled back to his feet and spat into her face.
Jorah seized the man by the shoulder, smashing him face first against the marble floor with the sound of breaking teeth and a splatter of blood. Skahaz also started forward, pulling his blade free but Daenerys stopped them both with a wave of her hand.
"Enough. No one has died from spit," she said, accepting the kerchief Missandei offered her to wipe the spittle from her cheek, "My answer is no, Ghael. Get out."
Ghael was hauled from the audience hall, leaving behind a pool of blood and teeth. A pair of servants swiftly cleaned the mess with a bucket of sand and a horse-bristle brush before the other petitioners were sent in. Luckily those were more easily resolved, one being a pair in a quarrel over a house and the other seeking monetary compensation for his goat herd which Ghidorah had devoured two days past.
When she was seated in her garden Jorah came to her, Missandei retreating to grant them privacy when he gave her the scroll sent by hawk. When she read it she felt deep irritation and exhaustion.
Cleon was dead, slain by his own men when he tried to force the troops out to attack the Yunkai'i army. The one who killed him quickly surrendered the city to the slavers and now slavery was once again alive in the city of Astapor. And the Qartheen captain had left, leaving behind a single ship with a bloodied glove for her men to find; a declaration of war. All other Qarth vessels were gone, no doubt to consolidate power with the Yunkai army now that Astapor had fallen. Ghael's plead had come far too late, even if Daenerys had chosen to stay her hand.
Her good mood vanished, Daenerys handed the scroll back to Jorah with a scowl. Above upon the top of the Great Pyramid Ghidorah still slept and in the far distance over the balcony in the gardens the large pools of rain water shimmered among the fields. She turned back to Jorah, her oldest friend and confidant, where he waited patiently for her response. It seemed almost a lifetime ago, when he handed her the small assortment of books about Westeros as a gift for her wedding. She still had them in her chamber, had kept them during the march from Astapor. Had kept them even when crossing the Red Waste.
"My liberation of Dragon's Bay isn't going quite as planned, is it?" Daenerys finally said, her words more a sigh. Around her the garden ignored her bad mood, all lush green and unfurled flowers.
It was more rhetorical but Jorah answered her nonetheless, "You could sail for Westeros, Khalessi. Hand the city over to a council, a true council, not one like Astapor. You already have a city watch-"
"Skahaz would just execute all of the masters."
"Perhaps. However people die everyday and it would be their city. Even with your peace there is death. Cleon sought war and that is what he got."
"I think of such a thing quite often," Daenerys said, "Of simply killing the masters. Drag them to the plaza and have my child destroy them all."
Jorah didn't speak but she could plainly see what he was thinking simply from his expression and she felt anger.
"The masters tear babies from their mother's arms, they mutilate little boys by the thousands and teach little girls the art of pleasuring old rich men," she snapped, back tensing, "They treat fellow people like beasts, like dogs to collar and beat. Which you yourself have said," Daenerys went for a direct attack.
"Dragging the Great Masters into pens and slaughtering them by the thousands is also treating them like beasts," Jorah argued to her, "The slaves you freed...brutality and violence is all they've ever known. If you wish to teach them something else, to let them learn before you leave so they do not fall like Yunkai and Astapor, you must show them. You are no butcher."
"And repay the masters how? With kindness? A fine? A stern warning?"
Jorah frowned, straightening up before he said, "It is compelling to want to see your enemies as evil, but there is good and evil on every side especially in war."
"They have their own gods and priests here," Daenerys said, "They can debate the morality of slavery as much as they want but owning another person is wrong and it is a real thing. I can end it, I will end it."
"I sold men into slavery, Khalessi," Jorah said quietly as he rounded the table before her.
"And now you are helping me show them to freedom," she said insistently.
"I wouldn't be here to help you if Ned Stark had done to me what you wish to do to the Great Masters."
She stared at Jorah before letting out a sigh, gaze dropping to the carved map on the table before her. There were the tiny dips and rises of the hills, the painted blue of the ocean. She could see the delicate brush strokes of the Free Cities along the west coast of Essos, then further across the painted mountains that lurked above Dragons Bay. Or Slaver's Bay, as it was still called upon the map.
"I am trying, Jorah," she said quietly, suddenly so exhausted, "I'm trying and it's not working."
Jorah moved closer, carefully touching her shoulder with a calloused hand.
"You have a gentle heart," Jorah said quietly, "The free slaves have seen that, that is why they call you mother. Yes, you killed the Great Masters but you spare the majority when others would have slaughtered them all. You stayed behind in Meereen, despite Westeros waiting, because you want to show the people a better way after hearing what happened in Astapor and Yunkai. You could have left them to their fates, even now you struggle but continue to preserve. Centuries can pass without a ruler such as you coming into the world, one who truly puts the people first despite your own desires."
Daenerys could feel her face burn at the earnest nature of Jorah's words, resisting the urge to fidget with her dress.
"Even now it's why you stay despite your desire for Westeros. You wish to protect the people. You feel a responsibility to those you rule. That is far more than many cities have of their rulers."
She sighed again, but nonetheless forged on, "As my forebears did. I am the blood of Aegon the Conqueror and I must not look back. Yunkai will come for Meereen."
"Perhaps," Jorah agreed, "But they will take time to regroup and march, to deal with their losses at Astapor. Meereen's walls are strong. Your soldiers have already fixed the weakness of the sewer ways, they will not find an easy access to the city."
"Nonetheless, we should start preparations in case of a siege. Especially if Qarth are to join," Daenerys replied, "You will go oversee these preparations. For myself, I have another meeting to attend."
Galazza Galare arrived at the Great Pyramid attended by a dozen White Graces, girls of noble birth who were still too young to have served their year in the temple's pleasure gardens. They made for a pretty portrait to Daenerys, with the proud old woman all in green surrounded by the little girls robed and veiled in delicate white silk. They had come from the Temple of the Graces, the golden domes visible from her chambers high in the pyramid. Their robes showed their statues in the temple; the high priestess, of which there was only ever one, clad in the shimmering green silk and the girls in white who were of noble blood. Then the ones in red who were the prostitutes, the blue who were the healers, pink who attended the temple and Green Grace's needs and some other colours Daenerys had not yet known. They worshipped the Gods of Ghis, with the Green Grace of each temple seeming to get visions or dreams from the Gods they worshipped. Such as how the High Septon of the Seven would interpret possible messages. She knew the Septon of Aegon's era had fasted for seven days and nights to pray for guidance from the Gods and saw Oldtown burn under dragons breath so accepted the Conqueror's rule once he emerged.
The priestess of Ghis was regarded just as highly so Daenerys met the old woman graciously and invited her to the Great Pyramid for advice regarding the current civil unrest. The war beyond Meereen's walls wasn't the only threat, the Harpy's still taking lives within the streets. The Green Grace was an old woman, skin dark and wrinkled with hair white from age. However her green eyes were sharp above her shimmering silk veil as she accepted Daenerys' offer of a private supper. The Green Grace had advocated for peace when Daenerys took Meereen, encouraging acceptance, and obedience to lawful authority.
The cooks had prepared them a meal of fresh honeyed lamb, fragrant with crushed mint and served with the small green figs she were particularly fond of. Through the windows she could see Ghidorah gliding above the city before the dragon began to ascend, his flight slow and careful as if he was still tired from their late night soar through the storm, before she watched him flap his wings to be quickly being lost from view. The room was warm, the weather kind in the aftermath of the storm.
They exchanged pleasantries before they settled down to eat, the White Graces being entertained by Missandei as Daenerys spoke to the Green Grace.
"If you will forgive my saying so, Your Radiance looks...weary. Are you sleeping well?" The Green Grace's voice was gentle.
"More of my people were slain this morning," Daenerys said, "Weavers this time, none warriors and suffered from the knives of cowards."
She had one of a tapestries hanging upon the wall of her chambers, a gift. And now those who made it were dead.
"This we have heard," the old woman shook her head, the green silks shimmering, "And yet Your Radiance has found the courage to answer butchery with mercy."
"Mercy which means more dead upon the street. The Sons of the Harpy are laughing in their pyramids," the fig tasted like ash but Daenerys made herself eat it.
"Yet you are no butcher," the Green Grace said, "Astapor has one and now he is bloodying the fields with his own and the Yunkai'i. They have died due to his brutish folly."
"The river is also now barred. Three galleys from New Ghis have joined the ships from Yunkai far up the river and a carrack out of Tolos." The Tolosi had also called her a whore and demanded that she hand Meereen back over the Great Masters in their brief contact. There was also the numerous ships that fled Meereen when she began her siege, which now waited just upon the horizon of the sea to wait for its fellow slaver army to return even if they hadn't dared to venture within range. With the fall of Astapor soon war would come to Meereen.
The Green Grace sighed, even if her eyes remained fixed upon Daenerys, "These are indeed grievous times. Your Radiance, might I presume to offer you my counsel?"
"You may."
"Then heed me now and marry."
Daenerys didn't bother to hide her grimace, regardless of how rude it was.
The Green Grace was unfettered by Daenerys' response as she forged ahead, "To look upon you, Your Radiance, you seem half a child. Young and far too frail to suffer these trials alone. You need a king beside you to help you bear these burdens."
Daenerys chose to take her time eating a slice of honeyed lamb, carefully cutting the flesh and then nibbling it in a delicate motion. Daenerys did not answer until she'd finished her portion, carefully wiping the honey from her lips.
"Pray tell, can this 'king' you speak of puff his cheeks up and blow the galleys up river back to Yunkai?" Daenerys asked, "Can he clap his hands and break the death of Astapor? Can he put food in the empty bellies of my children and bring peace back to my bloody streets?"
"Can you?" the Green Grace asked, not at all deterred by Daenerys' tone, "A king is not a god, but there is still much that a strong man might do which you cannot. When my people look at you they see a pale-skinned conqueror from across the seas, come to murder us and make slaves of our children and kill our sons. A king could change that. A highborn king of pure Ghiscari blood could reconcile the city to your rule and help soothe the ragged souls of the people. Elsewise, I fear, your reign must end as it began in blood and fire. Your Radiance shall forever remain a stranger amongst us, a grotesque outlander, a barbarian conqueror if not having a Ghiscari man born and bred in Meereen by your side."
Daenerys ate several more figs before asking, "And do the Gods of Ghis have a name for this man? Have they given you such a vision?"
"Hizdahr zo Loraq," Galazza Galare said firmly, wrinkled hands folded primly on her lap.
"Why Hizdahr? Skahaz is noble born as well."
"Skahaz is Kandaq, Hizdahr Loraq. Your Radiance will forgive me, but only one who is not herself Ghiscari would not understand the difference of these two names but those of our blood would. Oft have I heard that yours is the blood of Aegon the Conqueror, Jaehaerys the Wise, and Daeron the Dragon. The noble Hizdahr is of the blood of Mazdhan the Magnificent, Hazrak the Handsome, and Zharaq the Liberator. He will give you strong support and strong sons."
"His forebears are as dead as mine," Daenerys said, "Will Hizdahr raise their shades to defend Meereen against its enemies? I need a man with ships and swords to confront the coming war. You offer me ancestors and nothing else."
"We are an old people," The Green Grace said, "Ancestors are important to us. Wed Hizdahr zo Loraq and make a son with him, a son whose father is the harpy and whose mother is the dragon. In him the prophecies shall be fulfilled and your enemies will melt away like snow."
Daenerys already had a son and he would be the only child she would ever have. She wondered how the old woman would react, if she threw that in her face. At how her womb was barren, cursed by blood magic.
"And what does my prospective husband think of this?" she asked the Green Grace, rather than the angry words that bit at her tongue.
"Your Grace need only ask him. The noble Hizdahr awaits below. Send down to him if that is your pleasure."
"You presume much," Daenerys said and after that did not deign to speak to the old woman until their meal was finished. The Green Grace did not challenge her and sat in silence. She had to wonder if he was a relative of Galazza Galare. She had strong doubts the Gods, any Gods, would care about a political marriage out of all the things troubling the world.
The Green Grace had finished eating the lamb and figs, dabbing a smear of honey off her lips before saying, "If it please Your Magnificence, I will take my leave. You and the noble Hizdahr will have many things to discuss, I do not doubt. I shall return to the Temple of the Graces and pray for the gods to show my queen the course of wisdom."
Daenerys let her leave without further comment, sipping at her goblet. Cooled spring water, as she'd lost her taste for the bitter wines now left to Meereen. Galazza Galare certainly hadn't hesitated in trying to shove a husband upon her.
With the Graces departure she sent her Unsullied guards to fetch Hizdahr. While waiting Daenerys spoke to Missandei and Barristan; Missandei in robes of light blue that shimmered slightly as she cleaned the table and Barristan clad in gold and white and looking as much a knight sung from a song.
"Missandei, do you believe that if I were to wed Hizdahr it would aid in ending the bloodshed? Speak honestly to me."
The golden eyed scribe hesitated, her features drawn into a faint frown as she thought over her response. "Your Grace, while the noble Galazza Galare may speak true that if you were to wed one of Old Ghis blood it would help strengthen your rule I do not believe it would cause the masters to accept the freemen. We are not human to them. To them, we will always be property wait to be reclaimed and sold. The Unsullied are simply weapons waiting to be taken back to their rightful masters. This- I am simply a whore or a tool, waiting to be given back to a rightful owner. Same for all the freemen. We are not people to the masters. Wedding you will not change their view of us and their desire to have us back in chains."
"As for you, Barristan?" Daenerys asked the old knight.
"It is not my place to chose a husband for you, Your Grace."
"All the same, I ask for your opinion in the matter."
"I am sworn to serve Your Grace, and to keep you safe from harm wherever you may go and die for you if need be. My place is by your side, whether here or in King's Landing but your place is back in Westeros, upon the Iron Throne that was your father's and your father's father and all the ancestors that came before them. The Seven Kingdoms will never accept Hizdahr zo Loraq as king if you wed him."
"Westeros is quite far away," Daenerys said quietly, rubbing her thumb over the pearl of her ring, "And seems to grow further each day."
"Lingering here will never bring it any closer. The sooner we take our leave of this place-"
"I know. But Meereen must heal before I leave. I will not free the slaves only to abandon them when they need to be shown a new path. It would be as if I threw a puppy into the gutters and claimed I rescued it. I cannot leave the freemen while they need my protection, not with the blood still fresh and their future so uncertain."
"Your Grace," Missandei's voice was soft, "I...I do not trust the intentions of Loraq, his blood is of masters like the rest of the harpy's. I would not trust him with your well-being, even as a husband, much less with the well being of those freed. The masters cannot be trusted."
"Even so I cannot sit idle while people die in the streets from shadowed knives. You saw my brother Rhaegar wed," Daenerys turned to Barristan, "Tell me, did he wed for love or duty?"
Ser Barristan spoke, "I also saw your mother and father wed with no love between them and realm paid dearly for it."
"Why did they wed if they did not love each other?" Daenerys asked.
"Your grandsire commanded it. A woods witch had told him that the Prince who was Promised would be born of their line and the prophecy gnawed upon them."
"A woods witch?" That was the first time Daenerys had heard of such a thing.
"She came with Jenny of Oldstones," Barristan said, "A dwarf, most thought, but Jenny was insistent she was one of the Children of the forest. A prophecy spoke and your parents wed in a loveless marriage with neither happy and many suffered for it."
Just as they suffered for Rhaegar wanting another woman than his wife, Daenerys thought, How many died? How many would have been spared if Rhaegar had been permitted to chose his wife?
They were interrupted with Hizdahr's arrival and Daenerys remained at the table as Missandei permitted Hizdahr entry when he arrived, the scribe curtseying before leaving them with Barristan a silent sentry. His years in the Kingsguard had taught him to unobtrusive when Daenerys was entertaining, even with his white and gold armour. He was a comforting presence as she greeted Hizdahr. As before, the Meereenese man was clad modestly in a plain green robe with a quilted vest. His expression was solemn as he bowed to her.
"An apprehensive greeting," Daenerys said, "Am I so fearsome?"
"I always grow solemn in the presence of such beauty."
She barely restrained the roll of her eyes, instead gesturing to the chair the Green Grace had departed, "Drink with me."
Daenerys sipped with her water as Hizdahr poured himself the wine from the golden flask.
"You know why you are here," she said, after he'd taken his first sip, "The Green Grace seems to be quite confident that if I take you for my husband, all my woes will vanish."
"I would never make so bold a claim," Hizdahr said, settling down his goblet, "Men are born to strive and suffer with our woes only vanishing when we die. I can be of help to you and your goal, however. I have gold and friends and influence, and the blood of Old Ghis flows in my veins. Though I have never wed I have two natural children, a boy and a girl, so I can give you heirs to further the future of Meereen. I can reconcile the city to your rule and put an end to this nightly slaughter in the streets."
"It takes courage to admit fear. And mistakes." Daenerys said, violet eyes flinty.
"Indeed. There have been mistakes on both sides, Your Radiance, and there is still a great deal of fear. I believe I can soothe them. To help bring an end to the killings."
"How? Why should the Sons of the Harpy lay down their knives for you? Why would you want to help me? For the crown?"
"A crown would suit me well I will not deny that but there is more to it. Is it so strange that I would want to protect my own people, as you protect your freemen and soldiers? Meereen cannot endure another war, Your Radiance. The people are tired and the other cities are falling."
That was a good answer, and an honest one so she responded in kind, "I have never wanted war. I defeated the Yunkai'i once and spared their city when I might have sacked it because I believed they could build a new future with that gold. I refused to join King Cleon when he began to march against them. Even now, with Astapor bloodied, I stay my hand as I promise. The war was of their own making. And Qarth...Most believe I killed the Thirteen. I am no warrior and my child was a hatchling. I could hardly kill thirteen grown men as I am. Which they do not seem to care for either way."
"Perhaps not but Qarth is also city of merchants and they love their golds and silver. When you destroyed the slave trade in Slavers Bay the blow was felt from Westeros to Asshai. Qarth depends upon its slaves as a currency even with the Thirteen seats filled again. So too Tolos, New Ghis, Lys, Tyrosh, Volantis The list is long of those with grievances against you, my queen. Custom and caution had an iron grip upon us till you awakened us with fire and blood. A new time has come and new things are possible. Marry me and we can being a new era to Meereen."
"One day I will want to return to Westeros, to claim the Seven Kingdoms that were my father's," Daenerys told him.
"All men must die," Hizdahr replied, "But it serves no good to brood upon death. I take each day as they come and upon this current day you are in Meereen and blood is wet in the streets."
He is not hard to look at, Daenerys could see, and he has a king's tongue. Perhaps he would be a decent husband. Of her council only Reznak mo Reznak would be pleased though she'd come to mistrust Reznak mostly due to his simpering and pungent perfume.
Perhaps the Green Grace was correct in that. That she needed a king, a king of old Ghiscari blood. Else wise they will always see her as the uncouth barbarian who smashed through their gates, crucified their king and stole their wealth. Then again, even if she did marry Hizdahr they'd still think the same. And she had no guarantee the Harpy would even obey a means to stop the carnage. They hated her because she freed their slaves. How would a Ghiscari husband change that? Reznak had brought her a list of the names of the captains in the blockage up the river and further out to sea; all of Meereenese Great Master stock. Including Loraq. As Missandei said, they could not be trusted. For all she knew Hizdahr would poison her the instant they were married and become the sole ruler of Meereen where he could hand over the freemen back to the masters.
Marriage or carnage. A wedding or a war. Are those my choices? I wish to be flying back in that storm with my child.
'No ruler can make a people good,' Barristan had told her once when she lamented to the old knight after a council meeting, 'Baelor the Blessed prayed and fasted and built the Seven as splendid a temple as any gods could wish for, yet he could not put an end to war and want.'
The Green Grace's suggestion for her to marry Hizdahr was another compromise. Perhaps he was earnest, perhaps he spoke the truth when he wished to see Meereen as a city free of slaves and living prosperously with no more masters. Or perhaps he was a Harpy, waiting to poison her once he took the crown. Perhaps. Perhaps. Perhaps. Would she be willing to gamble her life on such a thing? A queen belonged to her people but she had to serve their interests. If she handed over the city to a potential harpy what kind of queen would she be? Didn't she hand over Yunkai to the slavers the moment she left?
Hizdahr didn't interrupt her thoughts, instead sipped his wine while watching her intently.
"Very well," Daenerys said, putting down her goblet.
The delicate silver bells chimed softly in her hair as she folded her hands on top of the table. She was a queen, she needed to act like one. Aegon did not bow and scrape to the kings of Westeros when he and his wives descended upon them.
"Words are wind, even words like love and peace," Daenerys said evenly, looking Hizdahr right in the eye, "I put more trust in deeds. In my Seven Kingdoms it is know that knights go on quests to prove themselves worthy of the maiden that they love. They seek for magic swords, for chests of gold, for crowns stolen from a dragon's hoard to be shown as the strength of their worth."
Hizdahr spoke, "The only dragon I know of is yours and I know not of magic swords. Gold and gems I have and I will gladly offer you as many chests filled with such treasures if you so desire."
"No. I will demand only one thing from any potential husband," Daenerys said in a voice which brooked no argument, "I am the blood of dragons, of Aegon the Conqueror and Maegor the Cruel. I am the daughter of dragons, bride of dragons, mother of dragons. I have no use for a husband who cannot burden these titles. If we are to wed I will only ask a single thing of you."
"And what do you wish, my queen?"
"Gain the approval of my child. Do such a thing and I will marry you post-haste."
Hizdahr stared at her but Daenerys' glare was stern and unyielding.
Awkwardly he cleared his throat, "And how am I to do such a thing?"
"I shall bring him to the plaza before the Great Pyramid," Daenerys said, "If he permits you to touch his snout then I shall know he approves of you."
"And if it doesn't?"
"Then you die," she said, "I will have no tolerance for a man who does not understand what it would mean to be consort to dragons. If you cannot face my child then you will not have my hand."
"Your Radiance," Hizdahr protested, "A dragon cannot understand the issues of Meereen. It is a monster of war. It will not appease the ancient families of Meereen-"
"I will not wed a man who cannot look upon the face of my families history and will simply cower," Daenerys said, "I am not forcing this decision upon you. If you feel you cannot face my child then don't and you may leave without rebuke. However that will be a proclamation for any who want my hand. They must gain my child's approval and that is it. Fail and he will eat those suitors alive and prove they are too weak to marry into the blood of dragons. I have no tolerance for a husband who will not understand the burden of my blood."
Hizdahr fell silent, obviously hearing the fury in her voice and not willing to challenge her further.
Her voice softer, Daenerys continued, "If you feel you cannot confront him then you may decline. However you said you wish to see no more violence in Meereen; perhaps you should direct your energies to placating the other ancient families rather than chasing my hand. For war is approaching and for when it does I will fly out upon my child's back and blast Yunkai's army to dust. The people of the world haven't seen dragons in battle for centuries, even more so in Essos, and it seems many have forgotten they have never lost a war."
"...As you command, my queen," Hizdahr's voice was even but she didn't miss the sour set to his mouth. She cared not for what she said was truth. Why should she trust a man by her side if he refused to confront her child?
"You say you wish an end to the traditions and violence of Meereen, you are one of the noble houses and still hold your wealth and influence. Perhaps you should start there, to forge a new beginning to the city. Not as a king but as a true servant of Meereen."
Hizdahr left bitter and foiled, even if he hid it well. Even if he did not take her test, did not wish to test Ghidorah's tolerance. Daenerys had to wonder when he and the Green Grace had hatched this plan, and she was acutely aware of Missandei's warnings to not trust the masters. How they would never see the freemen as equals, rather just misplaced property. Still, she made sure to send word that from now on any who would seek her hand must confront her child. She would accept no less and neither would her child.
Daenerys retreated back to the terrace gardens after the failed negotiation, feet in the pool to let the fish nibble as she read through several reports. Barristan had gone to his squires for the afternoon so she had thrice the guard of Unsullied, including Grey Worm whom she spoke with of potential tactics in the coming siege. Despite her warning she had no doubt Yunkai would come to her and it would be the first time she would take Ghidorah to war. Perhaps she should have her own chain mail made for her, something that didn't hinder her movements upon Ghidorah's back if she was to use him.
But she remembered how strong his wings were in the storm, how it had seemed to bend until it was chasing him instead of the other way around. Perhaps she had just gone mad in the storm, even if she couldn't remember the last time she'd laughed so much, when she'd felt so free. Now though she was dragged back down, to pour over reports of previous sieges and tactics and how they may aid her.
She had been discussing the potential of installing mounted catapults upon Meereen's wall with Grey Worm when they were interrupted.
"Your Grace," Barristan's calm voice stirred her from her low discussion with the Unsullied captain.
She turned to the old knight, her expression faltering at the grave look he held as he approached her. Mutely he held out a scroll of weathered vellum to her and when she took it she could see that the red wax seal was broken but there was still the unmistakable stamp of hand clutching a dagger, her confusion mounting when she unfurled the scroll to see a large sigil of the Baratheon stag at the foot of the letter.
Forcing her eyes away from the hated symbol, Daenerys' gaze darted back up to the top of the scripture and began to read. By the time she was finished her hands were shaking, violet eyes burning and throat tight as Missandei and Grey Worm watched her in concern.
"Missandei," Daenerys' voice was low and cold as she addressed the scribe, "Summon Ser Jorah immediately."
Actions
↑ Top ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter → Edit Bookmark Comments (41)
Kudos
24Idiots, angelwritesalot, 13DeadRats, Soren_uwu, Sukeolin, posionivykissed, Slmn, PrincessCarolina03, Baumtraum, Lost_In_WLW_Thoughts, lastrada444, Little_mushroom99, TomatoPotato09, Fert_567, Ellin_wwj, Roxannaaaaaa, cinnamon_frog, wolfdragon3036, TheArkitech, ahuk00, SaffirtheGreat, Cerberus_paw, SebyWildest, EmpressOwl, AriesIsFloofy, Eliaco_6731, 1995chouchoux_de_la_street, PhantomPeach14, ArchdemonSolomon, Karakurtaryen, Redqueen175, naya1822, X1peT0tec, mysty1346, w098458, WHat_In_carNation, Ididnotdie, Rarba, Read1_12, Nikd15, I_AM_NOOB, Mm1221, Eclipzee, Cheyenna_banana808, Iris_Hope_Flower, Hthehumam, Kuramatcha, LettuceNotLemons, Thedarkknight12, SolarSite, and 2500 more users as well as 3469 guests left kudos on this work!
Comments
Post Comment
Comment as TheBrimmedHat
Plain text with limited HTML ?
Comment
10000 characters left
Footer
Customize
Default
Low Vision Default
Reversi
Snow Blue
About the Archive
Site Map
Diversity Statement
Terms of Service
Content Policy
Privacy Policy
DMCA & TIDA Policies
Site Status
Contact Us
Policy Questions & Abuse Reports
Technical Support & Feedback
Development
otwarchive v1.2.0.0
Known Issues
GPL-2.0-or-later by the OTW