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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 18: Seafront welcome
Notes:
Happy New Year!
Chapter Text
Daenerys felt as if she were still flying.
They had found the Cinnamon Wind, moored to the front of the wharf facing towards the Titan's legs among the numerous other vessels. The swan ship had cream sails and the name painted along the angled prow in golden lettering.
A part of her ached at the panic which gripped the people of Braavos as she and her child flew over the city but she hardened her heart, especially when they located the vessel and Ghidorah swooped around to land. Sails and flags snapped in the wind caused by the storm and Ghidorah's great wings, even as waves churned and swelled. The ships that had been heading to Braavos within the bay swung around and began to flee back out towards the open sea.
Ghidorah managed to land several yards from the Cinnamon Wind, his claws screeching against the stone of the docks as he settled upon land with a great huff of air. Daenerys could see how stiff the joints of his wings were as he slowly folded them against his sides even as people ran screaming from the dock to hide among the buildings. Some even threw themselves into the ocean to avoid the golden dragon or hid within the ships lined along the dock.
Daenerys grimaced as she was jostled by Ghidorah's landing, the dragon's exhaustion making him less graceful than usual. They'd been flying for over half a day without rest and her body was one big stiff ache while her full bladder was a sharp pain in her gut. Her skin was also red from both sun and wind burn but Daenerys ground her teeth and bore it. She had felt much the same after walking through the scorching Red Waste suffering from heatstroke and the after effects of a miscarriage, and she had survived that.
Even so it took Ghidorah several moments to settle down on his belly before Daenerys forced her aching limbs to move, crawling from his back to his neck as he lowered his middle head on the ground. Around them the screaming as settled but Daenerys wasn't blind to the numerous people staring at them, hiding around the corners of the buildings or the ships. Some on the moored vessels had bows on hand but had the good sense not to point them towards Daenerys and her child- especially since Ghidorah's side heads were keeping watch even as his middle carefully lowered himself down until his neck was draped along the stone and allowing Daenerys to slide onto the wharf.
Standing on the smooth stone, her feet felt unsure. Her limbs, while aching, also felt strangely wobbly akin to when she'd first boarded a ship. As if she were still soaring through the air. She took several careful steps forward, legs stiff and knees near refusing to bend so it was an unsightly lurch. Ghidorah's middle head remained stretched down close to her, shifting so she could placing a comforting hand on his scaled snout for balance. His other two remained vigil, gazing around and hissing occasionally. His tails waved back and forth, the long barbs flared out. Against his sides his wings twitched as the muscles spasmed and through their bond she could feel their deep ache. Above, lightning grumbled but already the storm was beginning to thin now that Ghidorah was not urging it along.
Looking around, Daenerys could see dozens of people who'd fallen on the wharf or were hiding behind discarded crates or carts when people fled at their arrival. Some were trying to crawl away, too scared to be able to even get back on their feet. Daenerys looked around, spotting a man adjacent to the moored Cinnamon Wind; the crew aboard the vessel were Summer Islanders, so she was relatively sure they were not the Night's Watch member Quaithe spoke of but the fat man cringing back on the docks was fully clad in black. Only those of the Night's Watch wore all black in Westeros and Daenerys felt he may be the one the maegi spoke of. The other Quaithe mentioned, the wildling woman with the babe, could potentially be in one of the halfway houses crammed among the warehouses and trading posts along the wharf.
She forced her aching limbs to move as she tottered towards the downed man. Ghidorah moved next to her, his heads almost swimming through the air next to her like serpents as he kept apace. She may have been assured safety in Braavos but Daenerys was no fool. She would not stray too far from her child, despite knowing the terror he instilled in the inhabitants.
The stone scratched beneath Ghidorah's claws as he followed her on all fours, two heads on either side of her and another above as he tracked her closely until she was scant feet from the man in black who was curled up into a ball as best as he was able for his girth. Her gaze ran hurriedly over the man, noticing that while he had a sigil stitching upon the dark fabric of his shoulders it was without emblem. The chargeless black shield of the Night's Watch.
I've found you, Aemon, Daenerys felt several knots within her flesh unravel while Ghidorah shifted behind her, his great tails whistling as he whipped them through the air. This man could lead her to him.
It took her several moments to clear her throat enough to speak. Her body swayed even as the wind continued to tug at her, making her clothing flap and nip at the tangled mess of her hair.
"I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen," she spoke slowly and clearly, burning violet eyes never once leaving the portly man cowering on the ground, "Queen of Meereen, rightful Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains and Mother of Ghidorah. I demand an audience with my great great uncle Aemon Targaryen, maester of Castle Black."
For a long moment the only noise was the distant shouting and yelling of people watching or darting around in her periphery vision, along with the waves lapping against the isle and the grumble of the fading storm above. Then Ghidorah snarled at the man with all three heads, angered by the refusal to answer Daenerys which made the man scream in panic.
Daenerys grimaced, placing a hand upon Ghidorah's nearest snout to soothe him, even as she said, "You are a member of the Night's Watch, are you not? You are travelling with Aemon. I know."
After a moment the man peeked through his fingers at her, face tear stained and eyes darting from her to Ghidorah's heads.
She took in another breath, an impatient part of her wanting to scream at the man until he led her to Aemon. She had to calm her temper, raging would only exacerbate the issue and none respected a ruler who just bellowed at all their issues in rage. Only for she was intensely impatient, for all she knew each moment she wasted could be the moment Aemon passed.
"...You....You're the dragon queen," the man finally stuttered, his round face flushed and damp.
"Where is Aemon?" her voice became a sharp order, stern and unyielding while Ghidorah growled with a noise like a crumbling cliff side.
"He's- he's resting, he's sick," the man managed to say. With very hesitant movements he got back to his feet, hunching his shoulders as if afraid to stand above her.
"Where is he?" she repeated. Above, the blackened clouds had largely shifted into pale puffs as the sunlight returned to Braavos.
"Maester Aemon is in there," the man looked over to one of the cramped halfway houses across from the moored Cinnamon Wind, "But he's very tired, he's resting before we board a ship for Oldtown tomorrow morn. I'm, I'm going there to learn to be the new maester."
She asked, "What is your name?"
"I'm Sam- Samwell Tarly, your grace," he made a strange gesture, like he was attempting to bow while kneeling to her and only succeeded in nearly falling on his face.
"House Tarly?" Daenerys had heard of that name before. "Your father fought for mine in the Rebellion, did he not?
Samwell opened his mouth to reply but they were distracted by a commotion in the distance. Daenerys pulled back slightly as several dozen guards filled the docks, all armoured and armed including a line of archers. However they stopped at a safe distance, when Ghidorah reared up on his hind legs with a growl as his wings flared out. Daenerys placed a hand on his side and his bristling eased but kept his focus upon the Braavosi. None had yet drawn their weapons or pointed arrows at Ghidorah but Daenerys, for all her impatience, knew she had to move carefully. With the Night's Watch member, Samwell, confirming Aemon yet lived she could relax somewhat.
Now, however, she must parley with the Braavosi before any violence could commence. Ghidorah was already short tempered and she had no desire to see him riddled with arrows while he blasted the ports with lightning. She glanced to the Night's Watch member but he remained in his kneeling position so she ignored him to approach the flock of guards. They tensed as she drew near with Ghidorah still remaining close to her but so far there was no violence. Then she saw another man round the corner, sidling past the onlookers and step forward.
The man was clad in a deep dark purple but despite the almost drab colour of his clothing Daenerys could see it was of high quality material, with gold stitching and jewels sewed within the fabric. He approached her from the cluster of guards, so he must have been an envoy of sort so Daenerys moved to meet him. Even with Ghidorah remaining close, his breath ruffling Daenerys' hair, the Braavosi envoy barely even flinched at the golden dragon's proximity despite stopping within jaws reach. Daenerys tried to straighten up more, despite her aching limbs while ignoring what a birds nest her hair must be.
The stranger gave Daenerys a courtly bow, "Daenerys Stormborn, it is an honour to meet you. I am Camern Uller, an envoy for Ferrego Antaryon, the Sealord of Braavos. I must confess, we are unprepared for your arrival as abrupt as it was and especially one as fearsome as a dragon."
Daenerys replied, "I apologize for any harm or distress my arrival may have caused, as well as the rudeness of not announcing myself to the noble Sealord. I am here in peace, to see off an ailing member of my family to the next life and I had to move post-haste in order to reach him in time. I swear upon my House that I and my child intend no harm to the people of Braavos. "
Camern inclined his head, "On behalf of the Sealord I accept your apology. Braavos has always been a city of laws and freedom. The Sealords have long been enemies of the Masters and your valiant campaign in the south has not gone unnoticed or unsupported by the people here. The Breaker of Chains will be welcomed within our city, as long as you remain true."
Daenerys felt some of the tension within her loosen; so Quaithe had not been deceiving her when she spoke of Daenerys welcome within the sea city.
The man continued speaking, "Though Braavos has had...different tempered relations with Targaryens through the generations, at most we have been allies since Aegon the Conqueror forged the Iron Throne and he had personally aided us before. Your arrival has led me to must ask of you, if you currently intend to continue west?"
She knew which question he was truly asking, so she answered, "Currently my war is with the Masters and none others yet. I am here to ease my last relative in his final moments. I will soon set my eyes westward to my birthplace and stolen crown but currently I am not here as a pre-emptive act of war. If any Westeros vessels intend to sail here in an attack during my stay, I will gladly take the fight beyond Braavos's borders. I do not demand to put the people of Braavos in peril."
"Braavos is an old city, your grace," Camern said, "We remember the dragonlords of Valyria and how it took only three dragons to tame all of Westeros. Considering the...unique nature of your current one, I have no doubt Westeros will quickly remember their stories of the Conqueror. Though I must ask, who is this relative of yours? As many state, you are the last Targaryen."
Daenerys hesitated before continuing with the truth, "He is of the Night's Watch, dying from age and sickness as he has seen near a century of life. He left for the Wall many decades ago and faded from the memories of man. I have only learned of him myself very recently."
"I see."
"Um. Your grace?"
Daenerys fought to keep her face neutral despite the annoyance she felt surge within her at the Night's Watch member's interruption. He had slunk forward, eyes averted to the ground, but was still far enough he had to pitch his voice to be heard as if he feared Ghidorah would snap him up within range. A fair enough idea.
"Maester Aemon is currently sleeping, I doubt he will awaken for some hours. Our...lodgings is um, humble. We were only staying temporarily-"
"Of course the dragon queen may use the embassy housing along these docks," Camern cut in, even if his sharp eyes never left Samwell, "They are for those wishing to talk trade with the Sealord or Iron Bank but also wish to appreciate the Titan and bay. It would be an honour to grant you one, Lady Daenerys."
It was one of the more gaudy housing along the docks close to Aemon's own, small but nonetheless lavish and Daenerys accepted the offer from Camern graciously. In return she would be required to attend to a summon by the Sealord the following morn which she accepted without complaint, knowing she was infringing upon Braavos in a fairly ill mannered way. The Sealord was currently being generous and welcoming so Daenerys had no reason to reject the request. It would also not hurt to curry favour with any of the Free Cities and she still remembered her time in Braavos as a child.
Camern was a dutiful envoy, and asked her polite questions as he all but shouldered Samwell out of the way. Rebuked, the man scurried back and loitered out one of the rundown halfway houses where she presumed Aemon was resting. Across the dock, she could see one of the Summer Islanders wave an arm and shout something to him but Daenerys turned her attention back to Camern.
It was interesting, the mix mash of rich and poor along the docks with the buildings; some were so salt worn she could see barnacles crusting upon them while others shined with a daily polish. It was one of those last ones that Camern escorted her to, reassuring her the guards would remain to prevent any nosy passer-by from bothering Ghidorah. As it was people were already trying to go back to their business along the sprawling docks, mostly those on vessels moored furthest away and when the guards took up a circle they did so out of reach of Ghidorah to which she was thankful for.
Camern also declined her attempt to pay him with the treasures she'd taken from Meereen, citing that the Sealord wished to grant an esteemed guest proper lodgings to which Daenerys asked to give her thanks on to the Sealord and she looked forward to meeting him. Satisfied, the envoy left and Daenerys was able to go tend to herself without an escort.
The housing had a privy to relieve her aching bladder along with a basin of water and bar of tallow soap to which she then scrubbed her hands and face clean. Then there was an attempt to brush out her tangled hair with the horsehair brush from her pack that she'd put on the small bed. She succeeded eventually after some fight and when she tied back her hair it was again in a simple braid. A smaller braid hung just behind her left ear, where she kept her silver bells threaded. She felt less windswept in any case and straightened her clothing.
She felt far more steady when she emerged, heading to where Aemon was. The Night's Watch member, Samwell Tarly, was lingering outside near the Cinnamon Wind and seemed to be talking to one of the Summer Islanders. She ignored them to make her way to the cramped halfway house she'd seen him point out, Ghidorah shifting alongside her with a rattle of scales and wings. The Braavosi guard were unobtrusive though Daenerys could seen the awe and fear on many of their faces.
Ghidorah settled down right outside the cramped building, his great claws scraping against the stone as he lay down. Anyone who wanted to get into the building would have to get past him. Above she could see some terrified faces peeking out of the windows of the adjacent buildings and many of the people trying to work on the docks seemed to be trying to be as quiet and slow as possible.
Daenerys rubbed at her child's snout before moving around his golden bulk, avoiding his folded wings and stepping over the sinuous length of a tail until she reached the salt stained door. He could use the rest; so could she, but she had to see Aemon first.
The inside was damp and threadbare and tucked in one corner of the main room upon a rickety cot was a woman with a gaunt face, thick dark hair and large brown eyes like a doe. Clutched against her chest was a swaddled bundle, no doubt the babe of the king-beyond-the-wall. Daenerys paused, not missing the obvious fear in the woman's stare and inclined her head towards the wildling while trying to relax her features. She had no intent of frightening a mother.
"I mean you and the child no harm," Daenerys said, spreading her hands at her side, "I am only here to see to Aemon."
"You're the dragon mother," the words were spoken softly even as the woman continued to stare, her gaze briefly darting to the window where golden scales could be seen yonder. "The one who the star fell for. We saw it. Even over the Wall."
"Yes."
The woman shifted upon the cot, a grumbling coming from the bundle in her arms. She cooed down at the baby, even if her brown eyes did not drop from Daenerys. Her face was tear stained, the whites of her eyes tinged red.
"Aemon is in there," she said, nodding towards a door.
Daenerys let the woman be, even if she was distantly curious as to how the wildling got beyond the Wall in the first place, and when she went through the door and saw the man asleep within all thoughts of that vanished.
The old man had been bundled into the bed with a plethora of pelts tucked around him. His hands were lying lax upon the fabric, fingers knobby and thick veined. Around Aemon's neck were the ever present chains of a maester, the links forged of different metals to show which subject was mastered.
Daenerys felt a lump form in her throat as she stared down at the slumbering man, seeing the spots along his bald scalp and the landscape of wrinkles sunken deep into his features. A man who, if Daenerys' knowledge of her family history was correct, had lived through nine kings sitting upon the Iron Throne. Who had seen those eerie blue eyed not-men from beyond the Wall, if Quaithe's words were to be trusted. Who knew of those Others, the pale shadows. Who was the last of her family.
With a rustle of fabric Daenerys settled down on the stool next to the bedside, reaching out and taking Aemon's nearest hand between her own. His skin was cold but Daenerys didn't care as she took up vigil by his side.
Even as a restless sleep seeped into her mind she remained sitting, her chin dropping to her chest and hands still gripping Aemon's.
Her doze was shallow, dreams ebbing through her mind like waves of a tide pool. Her dreams were of wings and Ghidorah, of her and her child being one body and mind as they flew. She dreamed an exploding volcano which belched great clouds of black into the storm above as lava spilled down the sides of the mountain in brilliant crimson streaks. She dreamed of flying above it, with her golden scales and three heads and fighting a dragon above the volcano, a dragon whose wings dripped fire like the magma below and whose scream was as harsh as a sea eagle's as it clawed at her armoured belly and bit at her necks.
"Gilly?"
The voice was hoarse and Daenerys instantly snapped out of her doze, feeling the wrinkled fingers squeeze around her hand as her dream vanished into nothing. She straighten in her chair, ignoring the ache in her neck as she leaned over Aemon as the old man struggled to wakefulness. His eyes were open, showing sightless pupils of a milky white. Daenerys had to wonder what colour his eyes had been before blindness took them- violet, like her own? Or perhaps lilac, as Viserys possessed?
The weak grip around her fingers squeezed again before sliding up to her wrist. His wrinkled features contorted into confusion even as Aemon's voice was barely more than a whisper as he rasped, "No...you're not Gilly."
"No, Aemon Targaryen. I am not she."
With a grunt the old man struggled to push himself upright, Daenerys using her free hand to help steady his shoulder until he was sitting. The bells threaded through her silver-gold hair chimed softly with the motion, and she could see how Aemon turned his head towards the noise.
"You are the third son of King Maekar Targaryen and his wife Dyanna Dayne," Daenerys said softly, "Lost to the Wall and the black of the Watch for so long the minds of man forgot your dragon blood. I have come for you, in your final days."
"If you are indeed the Stranger here to escort me to the next life then you are far more gentle than the septons have led all of us to believe."
"I am just as much flesh and bone as you," Daenerys replied, "You have been a king's son, a king's brother, and a king's uncle. And you are a queen's great great uncle."
His fingers spasmed against her skin and she could see the way his pulse picked up against the fleshless skin of his neck.
"We are the last of a House burnt and broken but not yet lost," she continued, "I have lost a brother and a husband and a son. I'm the bride of dragons, daughter of dragons, mother of dragons, spoken in whispers across Westeros from the stags and the lions and direwolves and perhaps even spoke of at the Wall."
The withered hand not caught between her own reached up towards her face, searching sightlessly until his knuckles brushed against her chin. She could feel his fingers trembling as he gently cupped her cheek.
"Uncle Aemon," Daenerys breathed, "My name is Daenerys Targaryen and I have come for you."
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