Main Content
Archive of Our OwnArchive of Our OwnHi, TheBrimmedHat!PostLog Out
FandomsBrowseSearchAboutWork Search
tip: austen words:10000-50000 sort:title
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 29: VIGIL
Summary:
So a lot of people wondered why Dany got affected by the Dragonbinder, I chose to take a more literal interpretation of the Targaryan 'Blood of dragons' word usage. We already know miscarried children of Targ blood have draconic features, like Maegor's stillborn children, Rhaenyra and Daemon's mutated daughter, and Rhaego. So yea, Dany was dragon enough for it to hurt.
As for Ghidorah, he was largely immune to Dragonbinder due to being an alien but he understood the intent behind the noise which is why he was so pissed.
Also I made a gifset of the two since it's rather hilarious how both Dany and Ghidorah suffer from the Lots and Lots of Names trope. Like imagine trying to introduce both of them using all their titles.
Chapter Text
The sea storm over Meereen grew thicker, spitting rain down onto the streets. In the encroaching darkness of the bay Barristan could see distant flickers of lightning.
There was still no sign of the queen, even a week after her leaving for Braavos and with a day in of the slaver alliance flinging disease riddled bodies within Meereen to splatter all over the rooftops and streets.
Luck would have it that the queen's earlier war collaboration with Grey Worm let them destroy the first of the catapults from the walls but the masters simply retreated further and built their siege weapons at a safer distance with greater range after cannibalizing several of their ships. But even then at least that meant the corpses could only scatter at the every edges of the city, rather than its heart. A small mercy.
The council were snapping at one another though Barristan noted it was largely the two Meereenesse doing so. It had been brought to their attention the corpse slinging was having its intended effect; the pale mare was now in Meereen. Paltry compared to the discordance in the slaver army but Barristan knew it would only be a matter of time before it worsened. Then they would just be trapped inside a rotting tomb which didn't help tempers during the regular council meetings.
Reznak mo Reznak reminded Barristan too much of the scheming likes of Littlefinger and Varys, the seneschal conversing long in the nights at the Temple of the Graces with the Green Grace as company. He was quite vehement that they place one of their own as a holder to keep Meereen together especially as the tension within their own walls grew thicker, with the press of the army beyond the city growing with each day and the knives in the dark of a city growing wet with blood.
There had been near forty killings in that early morn alone the Sons of the Harpy and in retaliation a group of freedmen had torn apart a noble in the streets. Tension was high and wild, and Barristan knew cities could rip themselves apart in a siege.
The Unsullied refused any attempted commands from those of Meereenese stock. Grey Worm had been blunt at the seneschal's squawking, that they were freedmen and took orders only from their mother. The other freedmen companies, the Free Brother's, Mother's Men and Stalwart Shields were much the same. While the captains of the freedmen companies were not told of the queen's reason for disappearing, they were much the same in steady belief that she would return.
Yet others in the city fell prey to the master's stories that continued to seep through the streets like fog, whispering that the queen was dead. That she'd thrown herself from the pyramid balcony in despair when she saw the army marching against her, that she'd been eaten by her dragon or had died from the pale mare. Others said she had fled, leaving her people to die or even claimed she'd accepted gold from the masters to abandon the city.
Barristan could not correct those rumours, not without violating his queen's trust, so he remained silent even if he longed to shut Reznak's screeching. The seneshal had been trying to hold audiences with the people of Meereen as the queen had done so but most of those escalated into shouting and yelling and accusation. Daario may find such things amusing but Barristan knew it simply exacerbated the city's issues. Skahaz was now all but outright hostile to Reznak and Barristan would not be surprised if the Shavepate attempted to slay the seneshal soon enough or if he was the one behind the noble being ripped apart in such a public manner.
War within and war without.
The apex of the Great Pyramid was vacant except for Missandei. The scribe was haunting the queen's chambers like a gold eyed ghost, and most times when Barristan came upon her she was buried deep in parchment and ink. There were even some small hawks, the Essosi preferring such birds over ravens, perched upon the balcony overlooking the city or gently housed within cages. He did not disturb the scribe beyond returning her soft greetings whenever he ascended to the pyramid's peak.
From here he could see four lesser pyramids, the city's western walls, and the camps of the Yunkishmen by the shores of Slaver's Bay, where a thick column of greasy smoke twisted upward like some monstrous serpent. The Yunkishmen burning their dead, he realized. The pale mare is galloping through their siege camps. Despite all the queen had done, the sickness had spread, both within the city walls and without. Meereen's markets were closed, its streets empty. Both from the siege and the pale mare.
It was the hour of the wolf. The longest, darkest hour of the night.
Above the brewing storm had well settled after a day left unchecked, the rain falling upon the land in a steady downpour. The clouds were a thick roiling black, occasionally flaring with lightning within its churning depths. Far out in the bay occasional flickers of blue struck the ocean that lit up the area followed by the peal of thunder.
Beneath him the zorse was steady beyond snorting and shaking her mane from the rain that left them all sopping wet. It was presumptuous, but if the queen could not be with them in such a dire hour Barristan hoped her eye-catching steed would remind the soldiers and freedmen who they fought for. His white and gold armour gleamed in the rain and riding with him were three of his squires; Tumco Lho who carried the black and crimson dragon banner of House Targaryen, Larraq the Lash with the white standard of the Kingsguard and the Red Lamb who had the warhorn to sound commands upon the field. The rest were in the Great Pyramid, where Missandei herself was staying vigil in the queen's quarters.
Each of the companies were present; the Unsullied, the Stormcrows, the Dothraki and even the small scattering of pit fighters. At the other gates of the city would be the Mother's Men, Stalwart Shields and Free Brothers. The Brazen Beasts would remain in the city under Skahaz's command. To both hold the city, and to arm defense if the assault failed.
The Dothraki were eager for a fight, their horses hooves clattering on the stone as their steeds were as eager as their riders. Some were barely more than children, to which he was quite sure the youngest were those belonging to the queen's khalasar who had been with her since the Red Wastes. Seeking for bells or the right to braid their hair, encouraged by the older warriors to fight for their khalessi.
Beyond the walls there were far too many enemies and all of Barristan's instincts argued against the assault. Meereen's walls were tall and old, having plugged the weakness in their first assault so the slaver armies would find no easy conquest. If it had been any other siege he could have held the city for years while the army beyond battered themselves to pieces upon the wall. But with the pale mare now in the city, and having it spread two fold in a single day, Barristan knew there was no choice. He wouldn't hold Meereen a moon's turn with the pale mare. So to die on the field it was, despite everything within him encouraging him otherwise.
His orders to the captain were plain; they were to topple the corpse-flinging trebuchets after using the horses to hit them first. Topple, burn, or take the siege weapons, set alight the command tents, kill all the masters, noblemen and officers. Take no prisoners. And he issued command orders, if he was killed in the coming battle.
He had done his praying earlier, even though his gods were far across the sea in Westeros. But the septons told that the Seven watched over all their children regardless of how far they would wander. Ser Barristan had said a prayer to the Crone, beseeching her to grant him a little of her wisdom so that he might lead his men to victory. To his old and steadfast friend the Warrior he prayed for strength. He asked the Mother for her mercy should he fall. The Father he entreated to watch over his lads, these half-trained squires who were the closest things to sons that he would ever know. Finally he had bowed his head to the Stranger. You come for all men in the end he had prayed, but if it please you, spare me and mine today, and gather up the spirits of our foes instead.
Above the noise was thunder was beating through the city like a drum, with the upper apex of the Great Pyramid now swallowed in the storm. He could only hope the great bonfire set upon the rise would still be visible through the churning storms.
Another body went sailing over their walls, splattering into a building to sent limbs, blood and maggots across the ground.
His squires all shifted uneasily upon their steeds, with Tumco Lho muttering something under his breath in the tongue of the Basilisk Isles which Barristan thought was a prayer. His other two squires looked just as disquieted and as brave as they were, none of them were blooded.
Barristan steered the zorse around, looking over his lads. All ready despite their fear. "Gather around me, men." They obligatorily urged their horses forward as he said, "Whatever might befall us on the battlefield, remember, it has happened before, and to better men than you. I am an old man, an old knight, and I have seen more battles than most of you have years. Nothing is more terrible upon this earth, nothing more glorious, nothing more absurd. You may retch. You will not be the first and certainly not the last. You may drop your sword, your shield, your lance. Others have done the same. Pick it up and go on fighting-"
Then a great shriek filled the air, cutting Barristan off mid sentence, followed by a great golden light beyond the wall and the crack of splintering wood.
He couldn't see over Meereen's walls, even as screams filled the air, but he recognized the strange warbling shriek. Nothing else had sounded like that great three headed beast.
The queen has returned.
On the end of that thought shouting spread, both within and without. Though the yelling from beyond Meereen's walls were dissolving into screams of terror even as more bolts of lightning lit up the sky.
"Hold off the assault!" Barristan called before he kicked his heels into the zorse's sides and steered the mare towards the ramparts. The thick stone stairs were wide enough for him to simply urge the zorse up with a clatter of hooves until he was on top of the wall where the Brazen Beasts were assembled.
Beyond Meereen's walls the great slaver alliance was already breaking in the wake of the dragon; Barristan could see it appear like a wraith above one of the trebuchets, the triple bolts of brilliant lightning making him squint even from such a distance as the weapon burst into splinters. Then the dragon swerved back up into the storm before reappearing before another one and destroying it just as swiftly. Then before long all six of the great siege weapons were nothing but scorched ruins and the great golden dragons was diving down to blast lightning upon the scattering slaver army.
Beneath him the zorse was steady beyond snorting and shaking her mane from the rain. The horses of the Dothraki were much the same, well used to the queen's dragon in their long marches. Even with the dragon's furious screeches and roar of thunder the zorse stayed in place. The same could not be said for the animals of the slaver alliance, the horses having far more sense than their riders and many fleeing from the camp. The elephants had already broken and the camels were running through the tents. Many of which were now aflame, either from torches being knocked over in the ensuing panic or from the lightning; both from the dragon and from the fierce storm above.
Already the queen and her dragon had rent more carnage among the army than Meereen's entire army could have done so and even now it was flying over the long lines of Ghiscari and blasting them into charred corpses. Many on the wall were screaming encouragements, more yelling coming from the courtyard as they realized the dragon queen had returned. Barristan had seen the skulls, grown up with them, but witnessing a grown dragon devastate an army of tens of thousands on its own lent him far more knowledge of the destruction three such creatures must have inflicted upon Aegon's Conquest.
"Should we engage?" Grey Worm asked, jarring the old knight from his thoughts from where the eunuch had climbed the rampant.
"Dragonfire knows neither friend nor foe," Barristan said, eyes not straying from the flaming camp and screaming people. "The queen would not want to kill her own people in the confusion. Keep the walls protected, prevent them from trying to battered down the gates. Panic will make them foolish. Shoot any that come within range of the walls and the bows."
The Unsullied nodded and left to spread the orders. Barristan could only hope the queen would agree with such orders, especially with the advantage the black storm swallowed night was granting her. At one point the dragon flew over Meereen to spit lightning down on one of the Qaartheen ships, splitting the masts in half and cracking the hull to flood even as the black waters around them lit up with dancing golden light. Then the dragon beat its great wings, flying over the bay to destroy several more ships before vanishing up into the clouds.
The Yunkai'i were breaking, people fleeing off into the darkness as their camp burned around them despite the howling wind and torrential rain. The dragon reappeared back over the camp, this time landing directly in one of the camps and lashing out with wings, heads and tails to send people flying like a child throwing dolls.
Then Tumco was upon the ramparts with him, having to shout over the thunder, "One of the Mother's Men came, he said there are many more ships now arriving in the bay. And landing to spill soldiers."
"Volantis?" Barristan asked.
"Nay, they are attacking the masters fleet. There's a big squid on their sails. Like from the Basilisk Isles, they drag whole ships under water."
Balor? Barristan thought before remembering that salt king was dead. But he had a son, who'd been a ward to the Starks. Was it he?
But why would the krakens be so far from the Iron Islands? The Greyjoys had been a menace to many Houses over the ages, shifting alliances as easily as a snake sheds its skin.
In the distance the river lit up with light as the dragon flew down its curving length, spitting out golden beams from its maw and turning the panicked swimmers into bobbing corpses even as a flaming ship clogged the river.
One of the Brazen Beasts approached him as the army broke beyond them. Skahaz mo Kandaq with the wrought bronze mask of a jackal, and Barristan ignored his dislike of such thing even as the Shavepate asked him of their plans. He was still convinced they should kill the masters within the city, or at the very least seize their children, insisting that after witnessing the destruction of the queen and her dragon the Great Masters would sob and whine even more over the beast. Preemptive strike, the Shavepate insisted, especially since the Harpy was still active and killing. Kill the Wise Masters during the war so the queen could resume her command without worry for the Sons of the Harpy.
Barristan, tired of the repeated argument, was about to turn the zorse around to return to the courtyard with the peal of a horn blasted through the air. The mare whinnied, kicking out her hooves and making sparks fly even as Barristan twitched violently. Only long decades of practice caused him to keep his composure, while the Shavepate clapped his hands over his ears and cursing roughly as the hideous noise seemed to dig right into their bones. Similar startled shrieks sounded behind him but before Barristan could do more than flinch he heard the dragon screamed as well, until the hellish noise of the horn blast was lost underneath the warbling screech that rebounded over the city. High and high until it was ringing in his ears and brain even as a muffled explosion echoed.
Fighting back the nausea Barristan steered around the zorse towards the distant Dragon's Bay only to witness the dragon crashing headlong into the water, lightning flashing around it in a wild dance as the ocean surged.
Barristan feared it dead, shot down like Meraxes, even as its wings and tails flailed within the black waters. Maybe the scream was its death song? Barristan didn't know, still deaf from the horn and the dragon shriek, while the great flagship of the Greyjoy's was collapsing into the sea, lit in unnatural crimson and gold fire that seemed to lash left and right like wildfire.
He sent the zorse cantering along the wall, many of the Brazen Beasts still clutching at their heads. Below only the Unsullied looked unaffected from sheer discipline while others were grimacing or panicking. Beyond Meereen's walls the slaver army was completely broken, even with the dragon falling into the water. Most were too panicked to care, or the darkness too great to notice but Barristan did.
And he felt relief break over him when the dragon burst out of the sea, beating its wings furiously to escape the water. It was hard to tell in the dark but its wings seemed uninjured as it dragged itself free. His ears still ringing, Barristan watched as the dragon flew overhead with laborious movements. He realized it was heading towards the Great Pyramid, being lost in the churning sky beyond the flare of golden light.
The zorse was sure footed as he steered it down the stairs back down to the waiting army, many now shaking off the effects of the strange noises.
"Go beyond Meereen's walls," Barristan shouted at the captains. "Rout any remains of the slaver army, kill any survivors! Chase them off!"
Shouts of acknowledgement and then Barristan kicked his heels into the zorse's side and was galloping through Meereen's streets to the Great Pyramid. He was a Queensguard and while he was prepared to seek out the enemy on the battlefield his true place was at his queen's side. While the zorse was swift and Barristan found himself at the pyramid's base, it still took a long while for him to ascended the hundreds of stairs to the queen's chambers. When he threw open the doors he could see various parchment strewn about, no doubt from Missandei. And the scribe herself was out on the balcony, on her knees and with her arms around Daenerys' form. Of the dragon Barristan caught a flash of golden wings and a furious howl before it vanished into the storm.
When he reached the two women he feared the queen dead; her violet eyes were open and unseeing, blood running from her nose, ears and eyes. Her left arm was bent at an unnatural angle and growing bloodied but as he knelt down next to her Barristan realized it was punctured from a dragon tooth. The queen must have fallen off and when the dragon caught her in its mouth it must have broken her arm by accident.
"She isn't breathing," Missandei said, fear thick in her voice.
Swiftly Barristan bent down and took the queen in his arms, ignoring the protest in his aching joints as he carried her to the bed. "Summon a healer at once," he said and the scribe all but ran from the room.
Of the dragon it had already left, swallowed by the tempest surrounding Meereen.
It took nearly four hours before the queen stopped convulsing. She went through periods where she would stop breathing, her eyes would open to stare at nothing, and the blood from her ears and mouth seemed more black than red. Her skin burned so hot Barristan could barely press his palm against it, as if her skin had turned into tempered iron. Her heart beat was also greatly accelerated and sometimes her thrashing would get so violent she'd near fall off the bed even if she did not wake.
Barristan did not know what illness had taken her but he had a strong suspicion it had something to do with that hellish horn. The Ironborn had been attacked by the furious dragon when it left the pyramid, destroying the ships and ripping them to pieces upon the bay. Then it vanished south, following the routing slaver alliance in a volcanic rage. Those who'd stayed near Meereen had been killed by her defenders with most of the bodies being swept away in the thunderous downpour to the swollen river. Messy but at least a means to rid them of corpses.
With the break of dawn the carnage was far more apparent, especially with the queen's fits now abating to feverish sleep and twitching. The blood had stopped spilling from her but her skin remained hot, even with Missandei tending diligently to her queen. The silk shift the queen had been changed into was still sticky with sweat and there seemed to always be blood under her nails regardless of how often Missandei cleaned them.
The Blue Graces had refused any summons so it was the freedmen who tended to the queen. One an old woman of the queen's own khalasar but also others from the companies or freed slaves. They bound her broken arm tight, sewing shut the puncture wound with the old woman Ishabi cleaning it with boiled liquor before wrapping it tight with clean cloth and a splint. A clean break so it would heal quickly and her other injures were superficial, scrapes along her arms and legs with old blister scars. No infected wound as a reason for her fever. They all seemed perplexed by the illness, but could only advise to keep the queen as comfortable as they could while spilling broth down her throat. At least she would drink when prompted despite her unconsciousness.
But even with her injury Queen Daenerys had succeeded in destroying the slaver army that had been laying siege to Meereen with only a single dragon. The remains had scattered, with the Dothraki hunting down any who remained in the area while the rest of Meereen dealt with the smoldering camp. They salvaged what they could, be it fabrics and materials or arms, armour and animals. A dozen of the war elephants had been caught and taken into the city, along with a fair among of the horses and camels which had fled and had been found hiding within the near hills.
It was a council decision to let the people know Daenerys had returned yet had been injured in her assault on the army, which was true yet the almost comatose state of her was omitted. Everyone had witnessed the destruction so her return was not questioned and her khalasar and freedmen were loyal as to her affliction. They remained close and when Barristan was not with her, her kos or khalasar or Grey Worm were.
And Daenerys had come back with a maester's chains around her waist, which let Barristan know she'd reached Aemon in her strange quest across Essos.
But it was the black sword that accompanied it that truly caught Barristan's attention. Though he had never seen the blade in person, he still recognized Blackfyre.
How Daenerys had come across the Conqueror's sword Barristan could not guess but with her still bedridden he could not ask. However he kept the sword at the queen's bedside, unwilling to let it leave her. An heirloom for her House, thought lost to the Golden Company. When he'd slain Maelys the Monstrous the man had not the sword with him so Barristan had presumed the Golden Company had lost it or had it stolen in turn. But the queen had come back with the sword, as sharp and pristine as in the Conqueror's age.
Between taking watch over the queen there was also the sloggish clean up of the dead beyond the walls.
The bay was still thick with shipwrecks and hungry sea life, including great sharks and swarms of gulls, most of corpses on land were now successfully burned only one day after the dragon assault. Those with the pale mare in the city banished to the outside camp created from the remaining tents. Several score of Ironborn had been captured but from what little Barristan had wrung from them they said the same- their captain, Victarian Greyjoy, had come to Meereen to take Daenerys as his queen. They knew not of the horn or the intention behind it though some claimed the captain had been enthralled by a maegi who'd poisoned his mind with bloodmagic. In Barristan's opinion those of Greyjoy stock didn't need magic to addle their minds.
The clean up of Meereen was slow but since most of the damage was beyond, after five days the fires had been drowned and the river had shifted back to its usual width. There were orders for any fishers to do so beyond Meereen's waters, since the bay still had many rotted bodies but without them poisoning the ground and crops there was few threats. But the dragon had not returned.
The queen remained in fever, muttering unknown words under her breath and tossing and turning. Her skin was still sweaty and hot to the touch. Missandei kept a pail of cold water on hand, soaking cloth to wipe down the queen's skin but still she burned.
Barristan couldn't do anything besides stay close to his queen's side, as all his instincts insisted that he do something even if it was only guarding.
Missandei was much the same, barely leaving the queen's quarters. When she was not tending to the queen she was paying sharp attention to her many scrolls, inkwells and quills. And when Barristan asked she had answered him plain.
"I heard tell of the little birds in Westeros," Missandei said quietly. "They are said to bring their songs far and wide, high and low, to the spider in King's Landing."
"Aye, Varys' lot." Barristan said. "The master of whisperers. It is said nothing happens in that city without him knowing. He never should have been pardoned. Much like his namesake, he bit upon King's Landing when he was called forth and hollowed it to rot, always whispering in King Aerys' ears."
"On Naath we have butterflies," Missandei said, smoothing down the parchment with elegant fingertips. "I am far from Naath, from the white sand, shimmering silks and spiced wine. But I shall have my own butterflies here. They are few in numbers, many are young, still caterpillars or cocoons but soon they'll bring me whispers. Because we have been blind to our enemies, held in thrall by rumours and lies. If we heard tell of that horn, perhaps..."
"That was an unnatural thing."
"Perhaps. Yet we knew nothing of it, or even of those Greyjoys and their fleet," Missandei said.
He could understand. The Iron fleet had taken them all by surprise and if they'd know of that horn they could have warned the queen. And Missandei was literate and well versed in many languages and she was loyal. He did not have to worry she would drip poison in Daenerys' ear, if she cultivated many birds to her. Or butterflies. Fitting of a Naathi.
"You recognize the blade she came with," Missandei said after a long stretch of silence between them. It was midday outside upon Meereen yet it still seemed dark in the queen's quarters. Daenerys looked far too young in her unconscious, fevered state. Her silver hair strewn around her and fingers clenching and relaxing in the sheets. Resting upon the wall next to the bed was Blackfyre and the chains.
"Aye. It was Aegon the Conqueror's blade. Blackfyre. The Targaryen bastards took the name, when Daemon Blackfyre was gifted it by Aegon the Unworthy."
"I see. So it is an heirloom of her blood."
"It is seen as a symbol of legitimacy of Targaryen blood. The Houses in Westeros will know that when she arrives."
"Is that not why you serve her, Ser Barristan? Her Targaryen blood."
"She is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne."
"For us, Daenerys is not a rightful heir or a preordained queen."
Barristan was startled by the scribe's words, "You believe that?"
Missandei shook her head, bushy curls bouncing, "You misunderstand. We do not follow Queen Daenerys for her blood or her ancestry. She is not our queen because she is the daughter of a king we know not of. She is the queen we chose, because we love her just as she loves us. And because she wishes to stop the masters, to stop the centuries of enslavement and grief of Essos. We believe in this and our queen. And that is why she is our queen. Not because of her blood or her shades of ancestors past."
The scribe's words were said without reproach but Barristan felt judged nonetheless. Yet Missandei spoke earnestly, sincere in her love for the dragon queen and her campaign of fire and blood. He had been there when the queen had freed the Unsullied, when she'd traveled among them as they marched to help familiarized them to her, how she walked throughout the freedmen and held no disgust for any even when they touched her hair and tugged at her hands. She held devotion to her people which was sincerely reciprocated, so easily seen in the young golden-eyed scribe and her vigil at her queen's side. And a queen who flew into battle outnumbered against an army of tens of thousands and suffered a grievous blow but even now still clung to life, all to protect her people.
The ones who followed her when Daenerys had nothing but ashes and dead kin. Until her dragon which left in a volcanic rage to rip the fleeing slavers to pieces as his mother remained bedbound. And the scribe, certain in her support as did the likes of Grey Worm and the Dothraki kos, supporting Daenerys for no other reason than her. The certainty of Missandei, brave and forged of iron to survive the life she'd led before the dragon queen freed her.
Would this young Naathi girl have more virtue and pride than many of the well-bred and high-learned lords and ladies I encountered in King's Landing. Yet she survived the life of slavery, bloodshed and violence many would lose their wits to witness and yet she, as does Queen Daenerys, believes this world can be better and is willing to birth it forth from fire and blood.
Barristan spent his nights in the queen's chambers standing vigil more oft than not. He had never required much sleep, kept awake with too much regret and memories to tolerate being asleep for long hours. Missandei was a familiar sight in the nights as well, the scribe reluctant to part ways with her queen just as much as Barristan. This night, however, Missandei had left to conspire with her butterflies and thus Barristan was alone. Outside the door were the two dozen Unsullied and lower would be the queen's kos and khalasar. Protective as the queen remained abed.
The chambers were dark except a scatter of candles and the shine of Daenerys' hair in their light. She was still wracked with fever but neither did her condition worsen. Barristan could still remember the horrific scream of that fell horn the ironborn had brought with them and agreed with the queen's bloodriders that her illness was some magical malady. Barristan had no notion of how to help her as did anyone else. Daario had some suggestions, the sellsword being well traveled, but the idea of letting a maegi anywhere near the queen did not sit right with Barristan and he refused. Especially one of the red priests of R'hllor, as he knew well of the witch by Stannis' side, even if Volantis was near.
As it was the Blue Graces had no answers though they did bring news the pale mare was slowly quieting within Meereen's walls even if they still refused to visit the Great Pyramid. The lack of siege, the burning of infected bodies and established access to the wells helped soothe the diseases spread. Barristan held no fondness for the Graces either, especially their leader the Green Grace. She had offered to sit vigil upon Daenerys to pray for the queen's recovery but, as diplomatically as he was able, Barristan sent her back to the Temple of the Graces for the gods of Ghis to hear her. They would be no friend to Daenerys Targaryen especially since he still acutely remembered the Green Grace's lies about Daenerys' death despite the old woman denying it.
He looked out over Meereen; the city was recovering, slowly, from the assault from the masters. Even in the darkness of night there were many lanterns illuminating the city below and out further along the plains the fires of the malady camp were lit. There had been no hide nor hair of any slavers after the destruction Daenerys and her dragon inflicted upon them but there had also been no sign of the dragon itself.
Barristan had to worry over that; due to spending most of his life in service to the Targaryens, he did know some of their history. Such as Aenys Targaryen, son of Aegon the Conqueror and Rhaenys. Who'd been sickly and weak and feeble until he had been given a dragon to bond with. It had been custom for infants to have an egg placed with them in a cradle even if it slowly was lost. Queen Daenerys may not have hatched her dragon at such a young age but Barristan could not deny there was some deep bond between the two. Perhaps the queen was languishing due to her dragon leaving Meereen. Could it be exacerbated from distance? Why she was not recovering? Barristan could not know. He didn't even know if the dragon was alive and Missandei had brought no news about the golden creature even if she mentioned the storm had headed south.
He did not want to fail yet again. Another dead who he had been sworn to serve and die for. Daenerys had been the best yet far, gentle and understanding yet ferocious and deadly when needed. Now this magical illness, brought about by that screaming fell horn, kept her bedridden and delirious. But not before she had saved Meereen, along with countless lives of her people.
With a sigh he stepped away from the balcony. He had never felt his age so acutely.
Then his heart leapt into his throat as he turned, for leaning over the queen's bed was a figure cloaked in midnight black robes with a bloodred mask, spidery fingers pressed against the queen's brow.
Barristan was across the room in an instant, yanking his sword from its scabbard with a flash of light as he snarled, "Get away from the queen-"
And then blinked, for the figure was gone and it was only he and the queen in the dark room. Bewildered, he looked around and searched every corner but the figure was as if they had never been there. Sheathing his sword he went to the bedside but there was not even a lingering scent of perfume to give hint the stranger had ever been there.
With a sigh Barristan straightened up, reasoning his long hours of vigil had been interfering with his mind. It was known that too little sleep could lead to delirium. He was about to call for one of the Unsullied to relieve him of his watch when a groan from the bed instantly caught his attention.
"Aemon...?" the voice was weak, barely more than a kitten's cry. Barristan was at his queen's side in an instant, kneeling and taking her searching hand in his own.
"Nay, Your Grace. It is I, Ser Barristan. Your Queensguard," he said.
"My son..." Daenerys' voice was a rasping croak, her violet eyes unfocused and foggy as she grasped at his gauntlet-clad wrist. "Where is he, I want him..."
Barristan hesitated, unsure if he should tell his weak queen her dragon had been gone for over a week with no sign of it returning. But before he could speak she fell back into silence, eyes sliding shut as she settled back against the pillows. But not the shallow, unconscious state she'd been for the past several days but rather a deep slumber. When he touched her brow her fever had broken, tiny droplets of sweat clinging to her temple like dew.
Actions
↑ Top ← Previous Chapter Next Chapter → Edit Bookmark Comments (66)
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