Main Content
Archive of Our OwnArchive of Our OwnHi, TheBrimmedHat!PostLog Out
FandomsBrowseSearchAboutWork Search
tip: arthur merlin words>1000 sort:hits
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:5,537Kudos:6,020Bookmarks:1,659Hits:467,009
The Stormborn and the Stormbringer
SkilledWarriorKiwi
Chapter 24: Wake the dragon
Chapter Text
The shimmering hand-and-a-half longsword was deceptively light when Daenerys gingerly pulled it free from the vault.
The hilt and pommel were a deep rich black, the tips of the cross-guard molded into the shapes of miniature dragon head with the jaws agape. Tiny rubies sparkled within the heads, matching the large ones inlaid at the centre of the cross-guard and at the pommel. The cross-guard was jagged, like dragon scales, while the hilt was smooth and cool against her bleeding palm. It seemed to drink up her blood, Daenerys almost thinking that the rubies were shining brighter as she handled it in her injured hand.
However the most fascinating thing to her was the blade itself; It seemed to ripple as if black smoke were caught within the shining steel as she turned it back and forth.
Dragon fire, Daenerys thought in wonderment. Aegon the Conqueror, as custom, had been burned at a pyre using dragon fire. The sword had been retrieved without harm from the ashes afterwards but the blade had shifted dark from the flames.
Tears blurred her vision as she cradled the bastard sword against her breast, bleeding hand slipping along the hilt as her other gently traced the intricate details of the dragon heads.
An heirloom of the Targaryen bloodline. Famous for being Aegon the Conqueror's blade but Daenerys believed it was a relic of Old Valyria. When the Targaryens had lived there among many other dragonlords before the Doom, before the sea began to smoke. Just what momentous events had this sword been witness to?
It was a sword so long thought lost, much like its kin Dark Sister which vanished beyond the Wall. She never would have believed she'd been holding it, cradling it, a true heirloom of her family and House.
Oh Aemon, I wish you could know of this, Daenerys thought even as tears slid down her cheeks. He would have know from touch alone what sword it was, Daenerys was certain. Besides the Iron Throne and Dragonstone, it would be the last thing remaining to stand testament to her family even existing.
For all she would cherish the maester chains around her waist, they were a gift from Aemon personally. This sword was something belonging to her House. For generations, for centuries. Before the Doom and after her House's destruction.
So absorbed was she in watching the shimmering black of the blade she failed to notice the door open behind her nor the footsteps. Strickland's startled exclamation shocked her back to awareness, a deep lurch in her belly before Blackfyre was torn from her grasp so harshly she fell onto her side. The small vault slammed shut with a gust of air, making her bells ring as she hit the wall with a grunt of pain.
"How did you- so that was what was in that craven vault," Strickland was shocked, the man holding the sword as if expecting it to turn into a viper.
Ignoring the blood dripping down her wrist and tears upon her cheeks Daenerys staggered back to her feet with a snarl, "Give me the sword!"
Strickland backed away, the crumpled letters in his hands dropping to the floor as he gripped Blackfyre. It looked wrong in his grip and her hands curled into claws. Outside Ghidorah's rumbling snarl sounded out like a rockfall.
"It is not yours, dragon queen," Strickland told her with a frown on his face. The blade shimmered and the rubies sparkled as he backed away from her, her eyes unable to focus on anything else beside the sword.
"That sword is Blackfyre, Aegon the Conqueror's blade," Daenerys said hotly. "It belongs to me as his sole living heir."
"It is a sword which belongs to the Blackfyre's," Strickland corrected her. "That vault...I had no idea that was its true purpose. I had thought it simply a different stone placement of brick, not a hidden secret for such a sword since the blasted thing would never budge. Ah, but you pulled it free."
"As it is mine, the sword knows. It recognizes the blood of dragons." Daenerys' blood dripped from her fingertips onto the filthy rug.
"Please, Lady Daenerys," Strickland said in soothing tones, placing the sword upon the desk and putting himself between her and it, "You are no warrior. The sword would be a better fit towards one trained in arms and you needn't fear it falling beyond your family's blood. I will deliver it personally to Aegon across the Narrow Sea."
Strickland was unarmoured.
The golden silk of his clothes whispered as he held up his hands, large and calloused with numerous faded scars across the fingers and back. The letters on the ground were crumpled but Daenerys could see the remains of a wax seal with the Connington coat of arms upon it. She wanted nothing more than to seize Blackfyre but Strickland was standing between her and it, and she'd been foolish enough to not watch her surroundings.
It was all she could think, staring at the crimson rubies inlaid upon the black steel even as Strickland bid her to sit back upon her seat. She ignored her hand and Ghidorah's continued snarling which could be heard even beyond the closed door. The golden dragon had no means to reach her, not without crushing the building she was in.
She would not leave without Blackfyre. It was hers, through blood and fire it was hers.
Even when the old sellsword retrieved the letters, pulling one free and brandishing the parchment as he began to read out the lines of jagged text, she did not focus upon his words.
"Give me the sword and I will hear your words," Daenerys cut through the man's ramblings.
"You are not in Meereen, Lady Daenerys," Strickland told her, for the first time looking annoyed. "You do not command any armies here, you do not sit upon the Pentosi throne as its princess. You cannot simply demand things like a child, much less a sword. This sword belonged to Daemon Blackfyre then all the exiles after him. Your family forsake the privilege when Aegon the Unworthy gifted it to his bastard but now to Aegon the Sixth it will travel to. So you need not worry over it leaving your House, as I said I will take it to Aegon myself. He is in the Stormlands along with Jon Connington and the Golden Company. I doubt before the year's end the Iron Throne will be back with the dragons as will this sword."
Strickland was unarmoured.
"This is one of the first missives I received," he said to her. "It's quite short, simply an explanation of Jon that his death was fabricated and he was protecting someone of great importance. He bid me gather the other officers of the Golden Company-"
Strickland continued to speak but Daenerys could only focus on the wrinkled skin of his throat, sweaty and exposed to her gaze. She could see the beat of his pulse against the pale sagging skin, steady and rhythmic as Strickland's voice faded away as if beneath water.
The vein carried the lifeblood of the heart. She had seen men die on her wedding night and her many months with Drogo's khalasar, seen how the blood there would spray in great crimson arcs if sliced open.
Behind Strickland Blackfyre lay upon the desk, the rubies twinkling at her.
Ours by blood right, taken from us by treachery, but ours still, ours forever. You do not steal from the dragon, oh no. The dragon remembers.
Viserys's voice hissed through her mind, the pulse in her bleeding hand pounding through her head like a smith's hammer upon an anvil. She still remembered when her brother had been her life, her only refuge when they traveled from city to city, from Myr to Tyrosh, to Qohor and Volantis and Lys after fleeing from the house with the red door after their protector Ser Willem Darry died. When he would let her crawl into his bed and would tell her tales of their family, of how much better their lives would be when he retook the Iron Throne. Who carried her upon his back when her feet hurt too much, who taught her to read and sang her songs of Westeros.
Then his love curdled to disdain when he was forced to sell the last remnant of their family, their mother's crown. Rhaella Targaryen's crown, wrought of silver and rubies and pearls. Daenerys had not realize it at the time but that was when Viserys her beloved brother had died and a monster took his face, at the same time people began to call him the Beggar King.
Blackfyre was her family legacy, an heirloom intended for her. She didn't care for whoever was laying siege to the Stormlands, Blackfyre had made itself known to her and her alone. It was like Ghidorah who chose her over all others. Quaithe had urged her onward with her words but Daenerys had been the one to find the sword, to give her own blood which was accepted. The blood of dragons.
Strickland was still speaking, the flesh of his neck flexing with the movement. He exhibited no fear towards her, reading from the letter and his jeweled sword hung from his belt still in its scabbard. He did not see her as a threat, not even her anger frightened him, not her demands he return her ancestral sword. He thought her a silly girl playing as war, mayhaps believing the rumours she only won her conquests through laying with the masters and slitting their throats after or profane acts of magic rather than her own leadership and strength, that Ghidorah was just some beast she'd trained like a bear to obey her.
Strickland's pulse jumped with steady throbs, bump bump bump within his skin, until her own heart seemed to beat in time with it.
Then she heard Strong Belwas speaking, as clearly as if the great eunuch was crouched behind her and whispering directly into her ear.
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.
With a shriek Daenerys launched herself off the chair, sending it clattering onto the ground behind her as she hurled herself at the man like a feral wildcat. She struck him in the side, hand seizing a fistful of his thinning hair while the bleeding other clenched into the collar of his silken tunic as she buried her teeth into his throat.
She felt more than heard Strickland's shout, a fist collided with her ribs hard enough it nearly dislodged her as another hand ripped at her hair but Daenerys was too furious and mad to even notice as her teeth sank deeper and deeper. Outside Ghidorah howled in fury followed by the scream of lightning and shrieks of dying men.
You don't want to wake the dragon, do you?
Viserys's voice reverberated through her mind as her teeth sank through Strickland's skin to gnaw into the thick muscle below, nails ripping bloodied furrows on his scalp as the man went stumbling back against the desk and sending the books onto the ground.
Then the mouthful of flesh within her teeth parted and a copper warmth flooded Daenerys' mouth before his skin gave way with a wet tearing noise as hot wetness splattered over her face and front. Daenerys, still with skin and muscle clenched tight in her teeth, went falling backwards to the ground as Strickland stumbled away with a great hole gaping in his throat. Crimson sprayed across the room, pumping up across the ceiling and across her face, temporarily blinding her. Strickland fumbled at his torn throat, a wet gurgling escaping him as his eyes bulged.
The man fell, his golden silk rapidly staining red as he collapsed in a feet. Wiping the blood from her eyes Daenerys watched as Strickland's frantic movements stuttered and then ceased, arms falling to the ground and wet gurgling easing as his eyes grew glassy with death.
She spat out the mouthful of skin and muscle, panting heavily as blood dripped down her chin before gingerly stepping over Strickland's still twitching body to pick up Blackfyre.
In a distant way she was aware this was the first time she'd killed someone with her own hands; she had ordered death, watched many die both as a queen and as a khalessi, and even burned Mirri Maz Durr alive upon Drogo's pyre and saw Viserys' flesh and eyes burst and boil, but she had never used her own hands to kill another.
But then she picked up Blackfyre, the rubies and dark shimmering, all those thoughts melted away like dew in sunlight. Outside she could still hear Ghidorah's rage and people screaming and she held the sword tight as she went to find her child.
"Ser! The dragon has gone berserk, we need-"
Squire Watkyn had barely entered the room when Daenerys was upon him, swinging the bastard sword down with two hands tight upon its hilt.
While Daenerys was no warrior, one should never underestimate the strength in surprise nor the keenness of Valyrian steel.
Blackfyre sliced through Watkyn's face, chest and hip with sickening ease. Flesh split like the skin of an overripe berry while his leather jerkin posed no more protection to the sword than parchment. Even more blood sprayed over Daenerys, staining her hair a blushing rose but she ignored it to shove her way past Watkyn's screaming form to sprint through the door and out to the scorched courtyard.
Ghidorah was rearing up upon his hind legs with his back to her, wings flared wide and spitting out lances of lightning to the men scrambling around. Blood stained his muzzle and a crossbow bolt was embedded between the scales of his shoulder. An arrow from a long bow bounced off the thick flat scales of his belly then Ghidorah spat out a length of lightning at the one responsible and the man fired no more. The stench of burning flesh suffused the air but Daenerys ran out across the stone. She quickly shoved Blackfyre through Aemon's maester chains, between the shimmering links of Valyrian steel, before she clambered up Ghidorah's tails and climbed up his back using the jutting spikes as leverage.
Then was another chorus of bowstrings and crossbows loosening and both her and Ghidorah shrieked at a burst of pain in her left eye, Daenerys feeling an echo of Ghidorah's pain as clearly as if it were her own. She nearly lost her grip on his back, bloodied hand scrabbling at his golden scales.
She'd barely settled up on his shoulders when his great wings swept down, the air burst knocking down those close enough, before they were up and up into the sky and leaving the city of Pentos behind them.
Actions
↑ Top ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter → Edit Bookmark Comments (91)
Kudos
Lillian_Tuphan, 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, and 2501 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