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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 14: Betrayal & blood
Chapter Text
Daenerys awaited Jorah in the audience chamber, Missandei by her side with Grey Worm and Barristan several steps down. She felt numb, hands clenched tight upon her lap. Missandei's face was blank but she was standing closer to Daenerys than she usually would for an audience, a subtle show of support which Daenerys sorely needed.
Perhaps it is all a lie.
But the instant she saw Jorah's face she knew that was a fool's hope. The guilt was wrought on his face the moment he approached her, to await at the bottom of the stairs as she sat upon her ebony bench.
"Why did the Usurper pardon you?" Daenerys' voice was soft, echoing against the stone walls.
Jorah hesitated, the muscles in his jaw twitching as he clasped his hands behind his back. After a moment he spoke, voice hoarse, "If we could speak alone-"
"No. Speak it to me here. Explain it."
"Who do you think sent this to Meereen?" Jorah said, a hint of desperation colouring his words, "This is the work of Tywin Lannister, he wants to divide us-"
"This was signed the year we met," Daenerys's voice continued to be soft, barely more than a whisper, "Why were you pardoned? Unless you are saying this document was forged."
A part of her hoped that, that the pardon was just some horrible trick. But alas the Gods were not kind to her.
"No, it was not forged."
Swallowing thickly, Daenerys then asked, "Then why were you pardoned?"
Jorah shifted uneasily in place before eventually admitting, "I sent letters to Varys the Spider, the spy master of Kings Landing."
"What were the contents of these letters."
"Information-"
"What was it?"
"...When Viserys arrived in Pentos. His plan to marry you to Khal Drogo. Your marriage. His death in Vaes Dothrak-"
"Did you tell them I was pregnant?"
"I-"
"Did you tell them I was pregnant?"
"Yes."
Daenerys surged to her feet, hands curled into fists as her body began to tremble. She nearly stumbled over her robes as she descended until she was before Jorah, her eyes burning and lips curling into a snarl.
"Then you knew the wine merchant tried to poison me, from your information."
"I saved you-"
"Because you knew he was trying to kill me. You conspired against me, you betrayed me from the very first moment you saw me. You sold my secrets to the man who killed my father and stole my brother's throne and even now you have the audacity to ask for forgiveness?" she was nearly screaming at the end, tears blurring her vision even as Jorah dropped into a kneel, trying to apologize. Daenerys could barely hear his pleas over the roaring in her ears, her body swaying as she tried to keep herself stiff.
Three treasons will you know.
The dagger felt real in her back. She couldn't even focus on Jorah, bile in her throat.
"Any other I would have executed," she said, voice flat and emotionless, "But I don't even want you in my city, alive or dead. Run back to your masters in Kings Landing, collect that pardon."
Jorah got to his feet, trying to approach her but both Barristan and Grey Worm drew their weapons. It was only Daenerys raising her hand that stopped all three, that stopped Barristan and Grey Worm from cutting Jorah down.
"Don't you ever presume to touch me," Daenerys snarled even as her gaze remained unfocused, "You will have an hour to collect your things and leave Meereen. If you do not leave before then I will have your head thrown into the fighting pits for the lions."
I'm weak, I'm weak, I'm weak.
She was deaf and blind as Jorah was forced from the audience chamber by her guards, her hands curled into such tight fists her palms were aching. Even when he was gone she felt as if in a daze, struggling to straighten back up. Missandei ended up taking her by the elbow and gently led her from the room.
Daenerys refused any audiences for the rest of the day and sequestered herself away in the terrace garden. She sat within the greenery, staring at nothing and thinking of all the trials Jorah had been by her side with. And how he'd gotten numerous opportunities to reveal his betrayal but had chosen not to. Instead kept silent until her own enemies had to reveal them. Even if it were a trick she couldn't tolerate keeping Jorah with her and barely reacted when Grey Worm delivered the news that Jorah had indeed left Meereen as she ordered.
In a way hurt just as much as the true betrayal, that Jorah had many opportunities to approach her. To explain how he'd been used as a spy and beg her forgiveness. She wondered if she would've forgiven him, most likely she thought. That he would reveal that and lay bare his betrayal. Instead it had to be dragged forth and even then he had tried to defend his actions, when it had led to Rhaego being killed within her. Everything consolidated through that act with the vintner and resulted in her losing her husband and son. Jorah could have told her afterwards, to why he suspected the wine seller but Daenerys had been trusting of him. Of his sincerity in wanting to protect her.
Then the Red Waste, then Qarth and then the campaign following the coast of Slavers Bay. Plenty of time and opportunities for him to reveal the fact he had been a spy. But Jorah had never done so, instead the secret had been pried from him.
Who else could be a betrayer? Who else was feeding information to her enemies?
When Missandei ventured into the garden some time later she tried to coax Daenerys into eating but she couldn't stomach the sight of food. Instead she slipped off her pearl-studded slippers and walked through the grass to the balcony, leaning against the marble to look out over the city as the setting sun turned the sky apricot. The streets of Meereen had began to glow as the sun slid further behind the horizon as the citizens lit up the torches in preparation for the night. Others were moving, bobbing along to show the patrols of the Brazen Beasts Skahaz installed to help keep the peace.
Ghidorah's anger burned like a sullen coal and his tails were flicking back and forth. She could feel his desire to hunt down and devour Jorah, only her pleas stopping her child from enacting violent retribution when he understood why she'd been in pain. He cared not for the nuance, only that one had harmed his mother even if it were an emotional hurt rather than physical. Even now he was perched at the tip of the Great Pyramid like a hawk, his long wings flexing as he grumbled and hissed. From the balcony below she could still easily see the crimson glints of his eyes in the high distance, gleaming like crimson stars in the rapidly falling darkness.
His anger was seeping into her grief, consolidating into a torrid knot in her stomach that left her on the verge of vomit.
Looking down at the city Daenerys felt a sudden surge of hate and rage; Meereen was not her home and never would be. It was a city of strange people with strange gods and stranger hair, of slavers wrapped in fringed tokars and slaves bound in thick collars, where grace was earned through whoring and the ownership of people, butchery and senseless death was art, and dog was a delicacy. Meereen would always be the Harpy's city and Daenerys could not be a harpy. She was a dragon and was languishing trying to make her leathery wings feathered.
Her war was in Westeros. If she'd just slaughtered every single Master then handed the city over to the people, would they have faired better? She did so in Astapor but the rise of a butcher king and fall of a council that was due to human error, not freeman error. With Yunkai she let the Masters live and they re-enslaved everyone the instant she left. Too much or not enough but she couldn't just leave Meereen, not when she was the only thing stopping the Great Masters from re-enslaving everyone. She was exhausted.
Fire and blood.
Her House words, the only words with her being the only one left to claim them. Which she should be, should embrace. Instead she was just sitting fat and stupid in a Great Pyramid while the Harpy murdered her people and she tried to placate the ones doing it. While people turned on her, betrayed her or killed her people.
"Your Grace," Missandei's voice was soft. The cooling air made the pale hairs along Daenerys' bare arms stand on end.
"I wonder if there are any houses with red doors down there," Daenerys said, eyes glassy as she gazed at nothing, "But in the night all colours are dark."
"A red door? What house is this?"
Homesickness welled in her gut as she thought back to a gentler time, when Viserys was her beloved brother and the door was red and the tree held lemons. Before her life turned into misery and pain and death. She reached out to grip Missandei's hand, threaded her fingers through the scribe's as she said, "Never lie to me, Missandei. Never betray me."
"Never," Missandei said, voice just as soft. Her tug was gentle as she carefully guided Daenerys back inside and away from the balcony, back into the warmth.
As evening settled, Daenerys decided to join her little khalasar in their dinner after spending the day not eating. Her bloodriders and calvary were still beyond Meereen's walls but should be back within a few days; they'd killed some would-be rioters and had done well to enforce the peace of the country side as the crops began to grow. The khalasar that remained were those who stayed with her since the beginning, even after she freed them before Drogo's pyre and who followed her over the Red Waste, aboard the poison water, to Astapor and Yunkai and then Meereen. She should have no doubt of their loyalty but a part of her, wounded and bleeding from Jorah's betrayal, found herself eyed them suspiciously.
However they welcomed her warmly, touching at her silvery gold hair and the bells woven within. Per custom they ate sitting upon the ground, heaping furs and cushions to soften the stone, and as their khalessi she was offered the best, juiciest cuts first. Horse was still the favourite of the Dothraki. Barristan she'd given leave to train his orphan squires so Strong Belwas was her Queensguard and he immediately accepted her offer for him to eat with her and her khalasar. Missandei was more apprehensive, just she must have noticed how Daenerys was seeking comfort for the knife in the back so after some dithering she gracefully settled next to Daenerys, so she was flanked by the scribe and the pit fighter with her people before her.
It was loud and boisterous, far removed from the chilly affairs of royal dinners. She used her hands to pick up fruits or sweetmeats or to bite at the roasted leg of a horse. Her khalasar were quartered in one of the lower levels of the Great Pyramid, braziers burning and making the stone walls golden as their laughter and voices echoed through the great chamber. The old warriors still kept their weapons and Daenerys noticed that even the women and even the children- who were a lot bigger than she remembered -had knives strapped onto them. She still remembered Qaarth, how her people had rallied around her and ready to fight and die in an instant if need be.
She turned her attention back to the horse leg that the old warrior Malakho had given her. It was a hefty weight, roasted meat marbled with fat and the bone hot in her hands.
"Bite harder," Belwas encouraged her after watching her struggle to gnaw the roasted meat, "Jaws strong, strong enough to bite out throat of a man. Get your teeth in good, both hands hard on the bone and then yank and twist. Big, big vein in soft skin of throat. Seen many bite through and die in the pits, teeth are strong like any beasts."
The hefty pit fighter showed her the right way to rip off the meat, how to twist her neck and shoulders to rip away a large chunk of the flesh. Missandei was a lot more unsure, using nimble fingers to peel away the layers of muscle and nibbling as delicately as a mouse. Belwas ate like a Dothraki and Daenerys wondered if he was ever not hungry. Either way he was a very non-judgemental company so she didn't complain. He was also simple minded enough she had strong doubts he could ever plot against her.
With a belly full of hot meat and surrounded by the boisterous noise of her khalasar, she felt less hollow and numb. Less focused on the betrayal that left a deep sore ache in her chest and after eating her fill she felt herself lapsing into easy discussion with her people.
"Did you not eat a stallion's heart, Khalessi?" one of the children ended up asking her.
Daenerys waved off Lessa, who'd given the child a nasty look, instead saying, "I did. In Vaes Dothrak before the Dosh Khaleen. It was to ensure a strong child and they said he would be the Stallion Who Mounts The World. But it did not come to pass."
The heart had been tough, hot and blood. Strong Belwas had been correct in that a human could bite as fiercely as any hound and piece by piece Daenerys had swallowed down the stallion's heart with its blood staining over her hands and mouth. Her child ate just as savagely, proving all the tales of dragons only eating cooked flesh as false; Ghidorah would rip into meat like a glutton, his fangs far more affective as snapping bone and tearing through sinew. Even now she could occasionally feel the point of the fang around her neck dig into the skin of her collarbone when she leaned over.
"All maegi should be burned," another one of her khalasar said, getting noises of agreement, "Her screams pleased the Great Stallion."
Mirri Maz Durr's screams had also pleased Daenerys and it had led to Ghidorah hatching. Only life would pay for life, the old woman had taught her. A lesson Daenerys had not forgotten.
"I gave her mercy and in return she murdered my son," Daenerys scowled faintly. She also took Jorah into her service and look where that had gotten her.
"Sheep people have weak hearts," Malakho said.
"Fire was a good death for her," another, a woman with copper coloured hair, said, "Much like how that vintner was dragged behind your steed until he was nothing, Khalessi. Ungrateful."
"Even so, it was a valuable lesson," Daenerys said, stuffing a handful of meat in her mouth. When she swallowed it down she grumbled, "It also showed prophecies are less what they seem. The Dosh Khaleen were wrong about my son and the witch cursed me to have no more children."
To her side Missandei shifted slightly and Daenerys realized the scribe did not know of Mirri Maz Durr and what she'd done to Daenerys' son and husband. Of her encounter with the witch.
Ishabi spoke, "But that maegi lied, Khalessi. You have a son and much more fierce than anyone would have known."
Daenerys blinked.
Fierce as a storm this prince will be.
Was that not what one of the Dosh Khaleen said to her, when Daenerys was told of the prophecy of the Stallion Who Mounts The World after she devoured the heart before them? And Ghidorah breathed storm, not fire. A fitting dragon for her namesake.
"Perhaps," Daenerys allowed.
"When that Yunkai come to the city they will bring you more bells for your hair," another one of the older warriors said to her, "Those harpies are weak and hide behind their walls and bribe away the khals. As if they can march with any might. Rip off their wings."
The rest of the discussion was the khalasar talking about the Yunkai and masters and the ways they were going to die; Dothraki valued strength and her people held contempt for the cowardly attacks of the Sons of the Harpy. It was nice to just let herself be swept up in listening to the conversation, to not be battered with requests and pleas and news of more terrible things as people hounded her about anything and everything. To not worry about the ache in her chest.
At least Aegon had Rhaenys and Visenya by his side, Daenerys thought, Some days my crown feels so heavy I fear it will snap my neck. I have none to share my burden. I cannot even trust those closest to me.
A familiar thought and one Daenerys was tired of. When she finally had enough she carefully extracted herself from her khalasar, at least finding some comfort with people who'd been with her from the beginning and hadn't been revealed to be traitors. She could still feel Ghidorah above when she retired to her chambers, his agitation and annoyance near palpable to her like smoke.
She spent nearly an hour tossing and turning in her bed before she gave up the notion of sleep, tossing aside the covers to clad herself in a silken shift. Outside her windows she could see night had fully settled over Meereen, the sky clear and littered with stars and naught a cloud to be seen. There was again the temptation to take to Ghidorah and leave the city and everyone behind.
Ignoring that she instead left her chambers, not bothering to wake Missandei as she descending down the pyramid. The Unsullied who had been guarding her door silently followed her downwards and took their posts at the entry of the gardens as she entered the room. While their training had been repugnant, she found it comforting that obedience was one of their greatest traits; she needn't fear treason from her soldiers who had chosen to follow her.
A bath will help soothe me, Daenerys thought.
She padded barefoot through the grass to her terrace pool, shedding her soft white gown before slipping into the scented water. The water felt cool on her skin, raising goosebumps along her limbs. Little fish nibbled at her arms and legs even as she unfurled her braid until her silvery gold hair hung free down her bare back. She closed her eyes and floated upon her back, hands clasped across her belly.
Daenerys drifted in the water, her hair spread around her like silver gold seaweed. Most of the night noise of the city below was barely audible but there were some birds flitting within the garden, their soft chirps echoing through the lush terrace. Daenerys seemed to sink into herself, until she could barely feel the water enveloping her even as her hearing became distant. The water seemed to wash away her hurt, her body relaxing until Daenerys was dozing near sleep.
Then the abrupt rustle of fabric made Daenerys sit up with a splash, her placidity vanishing in an instant.
"Missandei?" she called.
"She sleeps," a low, calm voice replied. Daenerys twisted around to watch as the figure detached from the shadows of the gardens, clad in dark robes with golden necklaces with a crimson mask obscuring her face.
"Quaithe," Daenerys said, staring at the woman in shock. How did she pass my guards? "Is this another dream?"
Quaithe's response was a blunt, "No."
"Then what are you doing here? How did you get past my guards?" Daenerys asked suspiciously. She was never without guards, even if now they were outside her door. If the maegi had tried to get past then surely she would have heard her? And the woman had come from the inner of the garden, so she had not somehow climbed over the veranda.
"I came another way," Quaithe said, her voice still soft and near a whisper, "Your guards never saw me."
"If I call for them to come they will kill you."
"They will swear to you that I am not here." Quaithe's gaze never once wavered from hers. The shadows seemed to sway and curl around the edges of her cloak.
Daenerys shifted uneasily, hair swirling in the water around her as she finally asked, "Then are you here? Are you here to slew me?"
"No. Hear me, Daenerys Targaryen. Hear me now. The glass candles are burning with the light of storms and stars. You must look beneath the rivers and gold to seek the bitter steel within the waters, but beware the screaming horn and the urge to dance with fellow dragons. To bring the spring you must pass through the red heart of winter."
"Speak plainly," Daenerys said harshly, "You said the same when you came to me after my dragon dream. What do you want of me?"
"To show you the way," she replied, "As we all must and which you are forgetting. Remember who you are just as your dragon knows. The Stormborn and the Stormbringer. Dragons plant no trees and those who speak in ice and live within the dark of the night are searching southward. The white shadows. You must remember who you are as the cold winds are rising, Daenerys Stormborn."
Despite the warm water Daenerys felt her skin ripple with goose pimples, "The man with the blue eyes."
Quaithe said nothing in response but Daenerys knew she had spoken the truth. Who was that man? Was he even a man at all? And those dead, with the same blue eyes. She had never forgotten that dragon dream, first when she saw the great form of her child as a beast even larger than the Great Pyramid but then the man who had watched her from the bleeding tree with the crown of ice.
"Who is that person?" Daenerys' voice was hushed.
"The Others. You must learn, as man has forgotten, that the shadows that creep are never without source. Dragons are not the only monsters in this world and are not the only ones who have awoken after centuries of death."
"You speak to me of a myth a sea away," Daenerys said, "How is this not one of your riddles?"
"But I also bring you an opportunity to help show you the way, if you wish it." Quaithe was unperturbed by Daenerys' demand.
"And what opportunity is that?"
Quaithe's eyes seemed to glitter like stars through the slits of her crimson mask as she said, "That there is another dragon in Essos."
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