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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 30: Out of mind
Chapter Text
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.
The sun above burned like molten gold, and the land was seared and empty as Daenerys stood on burned bare feet. Blood dripped from her ears and mouth, from her fingertips and nose to the ground below even as the hellish noise of the glowing horn reverberated through her bones before radiating out through her skin like ripples in a rockfall. She was clad in sandsilk trousers, sandals and a painted vest and her skin was heated beneath the sun's glare. Her hair was unbound, without a single bell as it fell down her back in a wave of molten silver. Her Dothraki garb, the smell of horse thick in her nostrils.
You don't want to wake the dragon, do you?
With a flash Viserys stood before her in the tent of Vaes Dothrak, screaming. "The dragon does not beg, slut. You do not command the dragon. I am the dragon, and I will be crowned." The melting gold trickled down his face like wax, burning deep channels in his flesh. "I am the dragon and I will be crowned!" he shrieked as he clawed at her with gnarled fingers, gold seeping over his head to boil his flesh and making his eyes burst open like jelly.
"I loved you once," Daenerys said to him, anger and grief in equal measure.
"Once," Viserys hissed, the reek of roasting flesh suffusing the air. "You were supposed to be my wife, to bear me children with silver hair and purple eyes, to keep the blood of the dragon pure. I took care of you. I taught you who you were. I fed you, raised you, loved you. I sold our mother's crown to keep you fed. And you let me die by your barbarian husband's brutish hands."
"You hurt me, you frightened me."
"I loved you."
"You sold me."
"You were the betrayer," he bared his teeth, pointed and sharp like a beast as gold dripped to his shoulder to burn through his clothes. "You turned against me, against your own blood, against your own brother. They cheated me. Your horsey husband and his stinking savages. They were cheats and liars and you turned into one of them. They promised me a golden crown and gave me this." He touched the molten gold that was creeping down his face, and smoke rose from his finger as the flesh melted to show glistening black bone.
"You never understood. Dothraki do not buy and sell. They give gifts and receive them. If you had waited, my sun-and-stars would have won Westeros for you."
"You stupid little whore, calling yourself Breaker of Chains yet you still love your savage husband who raped you to tears over and over until you wished for death and who carried a horde of slaves. Yet you still call him your sun-and-stars when you were just another one of his slaves. Until you thought you'd fucked obedience into him and believed claiming your own slaves would save them. He cared only for the bastard in your belly and he would have stolen your dragon the moment he was hatched and left your worthless body behind."
Daenerys could not even deny it, all her doubts shoved force as Viserys clawed at her shoulders with his flesh-less fingers as he thrust his eyeless face into hers. Blood dripped down her nails, smoke tearing her eyes.
"And then you trusted a sorceress, like a fool," Viserys hissed with the voice of many. "Your baby is dead because of you. Same for your horsehide husband. Same for so many of your other children, because you're pathetic and weak and let the harpy kill them. The dragon should have chosen me."
Daenerys struck Viserys then, her palm colliding with the melted gold on his cheeks with a resounding smack as she knocked him away.
She blinked, now back to here she stood with no dying brother in sight. Now she recognized the location; the cliffs seeing towards the Great Grass Sea, the dry dusty earth strewn with stones. The sky growing gold as dusk embraced the land, a streak of crimson racing through the sky as stars and dusk spread across the sky.
The place where everything changed. Where she lost so much yet gained so much.
Whatever that shade Viserys offered, clawing up doubts, throwing spite and venom at her, she refused to believe Ghidorah had not chosen her. Because he had. No one could command a dragon, not unless they allowed it. She did not want to think of a world where he had chosen her brother, because that world did not exist. Ghidorah was her son. The only son she would ever know.
"Monstrous," Mirri Maz Duur's voice hissed in her ear, the old woman's fingers digging into her shoulders, "Twisted. I drew him forth myself. He was scaled like a lizard, blind, with the stub of a tail and small leather wings like the wings of a bat. When I touched him his very flesh sloughed off the bone and inside he was full of graveworms and the stink of corruption. He had been dead for years."
If life was worthless, what was death?
As swift as the wind he rides, and behind him his khalasar covers the earth, men without number, with arakhs shining in their hands like blades of razor grass. Fierce as a storm this prince will be. His enemies will tremble before him, and their wives will weep tears of blood and rend their flesh in grief. The bells in his hair will sing his coming, and the milk men in the stone tents will fear his name. The prince is riding, and he shall be the Stallion who Mounts the World.
Then Ishabi's voice as the warmth of her khalasar engulfed her, waiting for her to rise from the pyre as the loyal few who remained even after she lost her son and her husband. Old, frightened, sick, weak, but loyal and who remained. The woman's voice unwavering as she spoke, "But that maegi lied, Khalessi. You have a son and much more fierce than anyone would have known."
Fierce as the storm this prince will be.
The storms shall swallow both man and Gods alike.
The pyre before her was well known; made of oiled trunks, cottonwoods, purple brush and woven desert grass set above the carcass of a horse. Drogo's body lay upon it, bells of silver, gold and bronze woven into his braid and three eggs scattered around his body, and tied to the pyre was the maegi's form.
Next to her was Jorah, as he'd done that night. Now his skin was sallow, clothes hanging from his body.
"You're alone," Jorah said mournfully. "Because you sent me from your side."
"You informed on me for gold, for a pardon," Daenerys said. "You could have told me many times. Yet you stayed silent, a dagger in the dark and a betrayer."
"I did so for home. Until I realized I only wanted one with you."
"You lied to me. You betrayed me."
"I loved you."
She was alone again. Only the pyre for company in the lonely dark.
The last dragon.
When the red star bleeds and the darkness gathers, Azor Ahai shall be born again amidst smoke and salt to wake dragons out of stone.
With a hiss the pyre ignited within the dusk, flames licking around the wood as the reek of roasting meat suffused the air as Mirri Maz Durr's screams echoed across the land. The flames were beautiful and alive, dancing and weaving in a myriad of colours. As she had what seemed like a lifetime ago, Daenerys walked forward as the fire roared. She did not flinch as the hungry flames devoured her clothing, searing her hair, filling her nose with smoke and eyes with dancing tongues orange and yellow. She was the blood of the dragon and the fire was in her.
This time, when the night sky was gutted and the pyre was ash and the sun was rising when Daenerys rose with it it was not with her child or with burnt hair and sooty soft skin; instead she stretched out great leathery wings, scaled tail curled around her and long neck twisting back and forth. The sand beneath her clawed feet was glass, and Daenerys looked down at her dragonskin self; she looked different from Ghidorah, frills along her neck and tail, smooth horns and a thumb upon her wings. Her scales were silvery gold like her hair, the membrane of her wings and frills the same shade of amethyst as her eyes. Her horns and spikes were gold, talons and teeth as black as midnight.
A sweep of her wings and Daenerys was flying, the air whistling past her horns as she spiraled up above the desolate land until the burnt out pyre was just a dark smudge below.
The land was so small and insignificant up so high, Daenerys sweeping down her bat-like wings. The sky was still mixed within dawn yet when Daenerys looked up above, rather than a crimson star falling down she saw a dragon's tail of gold as a ringing, reverberating call rippled through her scales. The star shimmered and shone and the moment her eyes noticed it she could think of nothing else.
Curious, she turned her back on the land of Essos and focused on climbing higher in the sky. To following the golden star until the land of Essos sank away beneath her.
Until even the world was akin to a marble and she was surrounded by the cloak of night strewn with a billion stars yet none as so great as the golden one she yearned for.
Bow down and worship the Golden Demise.
She could hear a warbling high call resonate through her as she approached the form high in the sky, until her wings ached and the planet was a small speck and she reached the star and now so close she realized it was indeed a tail tip. But rather than flesh or talon or spike it seemed as if the tail was made from shimmering golden light, the resonating call deafening her to everything else as Daenerys flew further until she reached the tail. Or tails, as there were two stretching up in the dark. She would be barely the size of a fly to a elephant, utterly dwarfed by the great form in the dark. The tail was thickly spiked, thorned, as if the stem of a rose or bristling bark. But the shimmering gold reminded her of Ghidorah's scales and Daenerys pumped her wings to follow the spiked length of the tails.
The call seemed to lessen until she was surrounded by silent and black, the only light being the twin golden tails she followed through the dark.
The night is dark and full of terrors.
This gold will burn even despair.
It seemed almost no end to the tails, Daenerys having to stop several times to rest like a bird upon a branch. Oft she would crawl like a bat, digging her wing thumbs into the glowing scales and scuttling up the length. It was not warm nor cold despite the great golden light radiating from the being.
The silence and dark was so great but she ignored it all to continue following the golden tails. Occasionally she heard a brush of whispers, like someone murmuring within her ear. Some were in languages she did not know, strange and lightning or rough and husky but others she could understand even if she knew not some of the words.
One land, one god, one king. One world, one universe, one king.
It was like the House of the Undying, surrounded by strange churning darkness that seemed just as dead as it were alive. But instead of shades there was stars and the great golden tails.
She wanted her child. Where was he? She remembered breaking the Yunkai and the slavers but then something happened. The horn, a sound, her son's furious scream that banished it away. Then what?
Every child knows its mother, Daenerys thought. When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. Her child had not come from her womb but he was hers just as she was his mother. The glow of gold from the strange tails reminded her of Ghidorah even with its cold flesh and spiked flesh. She felt that if she strayed too far from the golden tails, however, that she would be lost in the darkness forever. She couldn't remember her way back to the pyre.
If I look back I am lost.
Daenerys climbed and flew for so long she felt as if her wings were about to fall off, surrounded by the dark and following the light, the dragon's tail. On and on until the tails began to thicken, leading the the base of an immense creature. Golden spikes jutted from every edge, cold and unmoving. She was so tiny now, barely larger than the golden motes that danced off the form like embers as she zig-zagged around the spikes with sweeps of her purple wings until she passed up the thick body of the being. Flanked on either side by what looked like torn sails, which would dwarf any ship.
They were wings, she realized. Solid gold, with no diverting colour like her own. Shining like the sun in the darkness, radiating a bright, sparkling light of motes and swirls from the jagged edges.
But below the wings she saw strange bubbles, filled with colour and distant sound. She spent long moments flapping her wings, over the spiked back towards the left most wing. In the distance she could see the golden creature's shoulders, the start of three long necks. So long she could barely even see the heads. Despite the three necks like her own child, it seemed to be where the familiarity ended, the heads covered by a crown of great golden spikes like a thorn bush and narrow jaws like a hunting fish. All gold, with no deviation of colour.
The bubbles beneath the wings drew her interest more; she felt the urge to follow the necks, reach the heads, somehow reasoning the call of before was related to the thing but drawn by the flickers of colour and noise beneath the thing's wings.
When she reached the nearest, buzzing around the wings like a gnat until she found herself falling through the bubble and the darkness and gold was gone and she was in a strange land. The change from the silent darkness was so great she reeled back, tail lashing and smoke curling from her nostrils as she hovered in the air.
It was a city, covered in great square buildings with the air smelling like oil and pitch. But unlike any city she'd encountered over Essos all the buildings were made of steel and glass. Only the richest cities had glass, such as Braavos the centre of much of the world's trade, but this one had every single building covered in it. Even the roads were strange black marble as she flew over them, sweeping her wings down to swerve around the buildings like an eagle. Strange carriages of steel were lined along the roads and she could even see people walking below, wearing strange clothing or walking strange beasts. She could see no horses.
High above in the blue sky she could see a rift, the underside of a golden wing like a rend in the sky. She wondered if this was a vision like the House of Undying yet her scales were warm in the sun and her wings carried her through the air as if she truly was there. What this city one she would meet? It was unlike any she heard of, even in the unknown like Asshai or Sothoryos.
Then a strange wailing horn sounded, Daenerys flapping her wings until she could land on the nearest steel building. And in the distance she saw some great creature land with a thunderous cloud of dirt on one of the black marble streets. It was on hind legs like a man, with long steel swords for arms, dark blue scales ruffled like arm and three great crimson frills jutting from its back. With a laughing shriek it attacked the city, slashing great rents in the steel buildings and making glass crashed on the ground below to slice through the fleeing humans. The people were running and screaming, the monster kicking several aside to smash them into bloody smears and breathing fire from its beak-like mouth to roast a dozen more.
She watched the carnage, unsure with her wings partially unfurled. The strange being wasn't as large as the golden beast in the sky but she would be able to perch on its shoulder like one of falconry and his raptor. But she felt fear, like with the black-scaled beast in her dream of snow. There was no hints of familiarity with it, like that she felt with the golden spectral form in the sky.
The thing made Daenerys wary. It reminded her of stories of demons, wild vicious beasts with deformed bodies and untamable bloodlust. The swords for arms, steel-plated back and tail, the sharp beak and singular glowing red eye; the thing was unnatural and its laugh was high and screeching as it crushed people underfoot.
And then the thing also seemed to notice her as it turned to stomp a steel wagon underfoot, unlike the people screaming and running below. She could see it looking over at her after doing a double-take, head cocked to the side like a confused bird as she watched it from her perch. If it had eyes she could guess it would be squinting, ducking its head as if trying to look at her from a different angle.
Her frills bristled up like a cat's hackles and Daenerys quickly took to the air. And it started to follow after her from below, shifting from walking to jogging until it was sprinting after her. Panicked, Daenerys quickly veered upwards to the rip in the sky even as the thing launched itself at her, trying to hook her out of the air with its sword like arms. She twisted violently midair, its swords missing her tail by inches and making it crash right into one of the buildings with a screech of shattering glass and an explosion of dust. She continued to fly towards the rip, even as the demon managed to get back up to its feet after knocking down the building with its body. It squawked at her, in something that felt almost like language, but she refused to listen as she led back into the void.
The shift from thick smoke-filled air to nothing shook Daenerys yet before she could re-orientate herself she fell into another bubble beneath the golden creature's wings.
Now it was no city but jungle, thick and lush and covered in waterfalls and rivers. Butterflies and exotic coloured birds flittered below, with water gathering on her scales from the humid air.
And no strange sword armed demon.
Daenerys glided over the jungle until she spotted a clearing, landed on the rocks surrounding a deep pond and still shaken by her encounter with the beast. Was it a warning? A symbol? Was it some beast of the Others? She felt like she was missing something, and a distant part of her implored her to remember her fight against the siege of Meereen. But it was so distant she couldn't think upon it as she looked around the pond.
She distantly noticed her talons were oddly faded, just barely translucent to the point she could see the rocks beneath her. The water was cool and clean when she dipped her muzzle in the water, helping sooth her nerves.
If you value your soul, take care. Linger too long where you do not belong and you shall be trapped there, forever.
It was only when she drew her head from the water, tongue licking at scaly lips, did she realize she wasn't alone. On the other side of the pond, thick legs tucked underneath itself and watching her with eyes the colour of amber, was a great scaled beast. Long spikes covered its back, head and armoured tail, with a muzzle like a crocodile ending in thick curling tusks. Unlike the other one, with its strange limbs and malicious aura, this one offered Daenerys no violence even if she could sense confusion emanating from it.
She hunched her shoulders, wings half spread but the creature didn't raise to its feet. Like the other being it was immense, big enough its tail was even longer than Daenerys' entire serpentine body. Even the trees seemed oddly small around the being.
What do you want?
Startled, Daenerys instantly leapt back into the air even as the creature heaved itself to its feet. She ignored its rasping call after her as she flew out of the clearing, quickly beating her wings as she skimmed over the jungle to leave the strange spiked creature behind.
Perhaps she was at Sothoryos, the Green Hell. She'd heard tales of the wild, strange creatures that lived there and when she flew by a rocky crag she even briefly spotted a great ape asleep inside the shallow cave.
Many powers long asleep are waking, and there are forces moving in the land.
Was she supposed to go somewhere? Daenerys wasn't sure. She couldn't think well as she flew over the jungle, like her mind was wrapped in thick shimmering silk to keep her warm and contained in silence and comfort. She couldn't remember what she was supposed to be doing, or even really where she had been. In the distance she thought she heard a great chorus of wings, could see an island city engulfed in flames an besieged by various dragons of various size and colour.
However still her thoughts moved back to the great golden dragon in the sky. Which reminded her of her child, but seemed to be made of light itself. She should go there, like the one in ice. Perhaps it was where she had to be, rather in those strange lands with strange beasts.
Daenerys titled her wings, the jungle below thick and green in contrast to her silvery gold scales. She was supposed to be near the sea, she was quite sure. A bay with burning ships. Daenerys flew upwards, back towards the dark slit in the sky until she was in that place of stars and silence and the great golden dragon of three heads. Maybe it was an idol of her child or something else altogether, maybe she was mad like the masters said. Seeing glowing golden creatures in the sky while in the flesh of a dragon.
But then, she killed the harpy and will kill all of its fledglings, root and stem. She did not care for their opinions of it, not any more. They had shown they would rather die than stop enslaving so die they would.
Back in the void, the creature had moved. Barely, but she could see how all three of its necks were beginning to coil around themselves from where they'd been stretched out in uniform before. Its back was still cold when Daenerys landed on its back and she crawled over its spikes until she reached its shoulder. The three necks were barbed and spiked just like the rest and she could see its narrow-jawed heads far in the distance.
However when she started to laboriously fly towards them she noticed another bubble lingering just below the golden throats. She remembered Missandei, seeing a tiny butterfly with red and yellow wings of vibrant design clinging to the edge of the bubble. It fluttered its wing, fluffy antenna wiggling at her before it vanished inside the slit.
Daenerys was torn, wanting to follow the long spiked necks of the golden dragon yet she thought of the Naathi scribe. She'd offered for Missandei to return to her island but she had declined, wishing to stay with Daenerys. Missandei had told her of the butterflies who protected the Peaceful People. So instead she slipped down like an eel and into the last bubble.
Now she was above an island, surrounded by the clear blue sea and calm skies. She thought it was Naath but when she landed on the shore she could see no butterflies. She didn't know where that small one had gone, with its bright wings and fluffy body but she felt too tired to fly again so she walked on all fours around the beach. The island was dotted with mountains and trees but the air was calm and clear, lacking the humidity of the jungle.
She was able to drop down to the sand, limbs feeling more and more heavy with each passing moment, when she spotted movement at the treeline among the thick clusters of flowers.
With a grunt she pushed herself back on all fours, tentatively approaching the trees. There were many flowers she didn't recognize in all manner of colours from purples, blues and yellows, some with thick petals and others narrow and speckled or flared and ruffled, but nonetheless she could see two people sitting among them, as pretty as a portrait. High above clinging to the trunk of one of the trees was the butterfly she'd seen, with fluffy white fur and tiny legs clinging to the bark. But her real attention was on the two women.
Daenerys thought they were humans but as she drew closer she realized they were far too small, even in her much larger dragon form. Tiny enough that if Daenerys had her skin rather than scales they could stand easily on her palm. They were clad in shimmering robes of rich silk, sparkling necklaces draped around their throats and shimmering bangles encircling their slender wrists and rings gleaming on their tiny hands. Their dark hair shined like satin, draw up in elegant buns except for a single golden braid which hung down a shoulder. More precious jewels were inlaid in the flower-shaped pins within their hair. Their clothing and facial features reminded Daenerys of the trader from Yi Ti she'd seen in Vaes Dothrak even if their diminutive size left her confused.
Are they Children of the Forest? Daenerys thought as she stopped on a feet away. They were so tiny many of the flowers grew taller than them but Daenerys thought she could see sharp intelligent in their dark eyes.
The two tiny women exchanged looks, remaining hand in hand with one another. As one they stood and Daenerys settled down on her belly, resting her head on the ground. She felt no urge to scare the two small women even if she was unsure as to what they really were. When they placed tiny hands on her muzzle, she felt them speak. It was much like how she communicated with Ghidorah, through minds rather than words but she could understand them even if she did not recognize their language.
They were asking who she was and why was she here.
So she told them who she was and she did not know even where she was.
She could sense fear from them when she pushed through an image of her child and also the great being in the sky high above. They couldn't see the rift but they were afraid of the gold being. She didn't understand why. They were not enemies to her so they had nothing to fear from her or her child.
The two tiny women exchanged looks, their features troubled but she could sense they were willing to help. The butterfly on the tree settled down on Daenerys' nose, barely larger than the women. Its big green eyes were intelligent and kind and Daenerys felt it ask her the same question to which she answered the same. Again, the fear which she didn't understand.
Then the small butterfly offered to help, to which Daenerys agreed without thinking about why she needed it. With a sweep of its wings the butterfly vanished off into the trees to leave Daenerys with the two women. They asked her of her life and Daenerys showed what she could remember. Even now her mind was getting more and more muddled, like she was forgetting great chunks but what she recalled such as her time in the Dothraki Sea left the two tiny women feeling great sorrow for her. They showed her some of their own memories as well, living on the island to serve their goddess who was an avatar of peace and compassion. Who protected them and all those who lived on the island.
And who Daenerys meet when the great moth being landed on the sand next to her, long legs sinking into the sand as it landed. The moth was large, much larger than Daenerys with immense wings of blue, orange and yellow patterns. Its fur was cream and orange, blue faceted eyes intelligent as it carefully approached her. The tiny humans drew away back to the flower bed as the great moth approached Daenerys and with a grunt of effort she pushed herself up onto all fours. The two tiny women were joined by the small butterfly- no, not a butterfly, a moth just like the immense one approaching her.
Despite the size difference the moth treated Daenerys kindly, even as its feathery antennae brushed her snout. Again, a request to know who she was and what she was doing there and again Daenerys tried to explain as best she could. Her answer seemed to alarm the moth, as did her knowledge of her child.
There was a sense of warning from the moth, that if Daenerys continued towards the golden creature's heads in the void it would notice her. Now it was adrift, asleep, like flotsam upon the waves but if she approached further then it would realize her presence. And the moth warned her of the dangers. That it would devour everything if she woke it.
And another warning, that Daenerys was lingering too long. That she was fading and soon would become the wind and until she became nothing at all.
Daenerys did not understand the moth, not until she urged for Daenerys look down upon herself. And when she did she gasped, for now her entire body was translucent, the details of her scales and wings fading until she was blurry like a mirage.
Lost, the moth impressed to her, both with her mind and with the tiny fae still watching. That Daenerys must return to where she came or she would fade entirely and be forgotten. That she had somehow became dislodged and pulled towards the God of the Void.
The name seemed familiar and the slowly smothered part of her remembered she needed to return. She needed to go back because something had happened. Where was her son? She needed him. Her people needed her. But where were they? She could barely remember who.
With a flutter of her wings, the moth offered to help Daenerys. To help lead her back for her presence wasn't supposed to be. Daenerys accepted.
The moth couldn't see the slit in the sky so instead she followed Daenerys as she flew through it until they were both hovering over the golden being.
The moth was deeply wary of the golden creature, taking great care not to touch it. Daenerys did not understand the moth's apprehension but followed her. Leading her back down over the golden dragon's back, down over the twin tails and barbed scales. Then into the great blackness beyond. On her own Daenerys would have become hopelessly lost but she followed the moth and the shimmering streaks of light her wings left behind. Sometimes she would falter, wings heavy and muscles aching, and the moth was encourage her onward, slowing until Daenerys caught up with her again.
She nearly fell in the dark, only the notion she had to return keeping her aloft. The further she left the golden dragon the more she remembered, the siege of Meereen and breaking the masters and then that horn and falling from Ghidorah's back. How her son had caught her, which she remembered even through the pain that had ripped through her body and mind. And then being a dragon, still was a dragon. Where was she going? Who was this moth? Was it Missandei's god, the Lord of Harmony? A moth or a butterfly could easily be confused and the great moth was kind and gentle to her. Gods were illusive beings, perhaps their physical ideas was far different than what their faithful believed.
Another cajoling from the moth and Daenerys beat her wings until she was near the great creature's side in the dark. Her glowing wings were all Daenerys could see as they traveled.
Then a speck of colour, the world as if a marble, grew in the darkness. Daenerys remembered when she'd been so high on Ghidorah's back she'd seen the curve of the world. An orb, a curious thing indeed. And home, away from the strange beings in the dark starry sky beneath the golden entity's wings.
Now she could see Essos as they drew closer, as if she peered down at a map. She could see the edges of Dragon's Bay, the upper portion where Braavos was, even the broken edges of Old Valyria. Pumping her wings, Daenerys overtook the moth as she dived down back to her world.
Only for her to collide into a wall when she tried to drop back down into the world she'd left, as if an invisible barrier barred her way. Fruitlessly she tried to move pass the barrier, hearing a confused chirp from the moth which fluttered behind her. In her flailing Daenerys noticed she was near fully gone, not even able to see her talons and body vanishing into the void. She was fading to nothing and she let out a frustrated roar, silver-gold fire blasting from her mouth.
A shiver of coldness swept across her brow and then a tree grew out of Essos so far below, one made of liquid darkness that reached out to her with gnarled branches. Daenerys clawed at it, trying to getting her hind legs onto it. She flailed, the pressure stopping her from grabbing the offered branch no matter how she beat her wings and flailed her body.
Then Daenerys felt the moth land on her back; not attacking, but rather helping to push herself down towards the shadow-slick branch. Daenerys bared her fangs, using her wings and clawed feet to try and grab it as the sweet scent of the moth's wings filled her nostrils.
Another shove from the moth, a burst of light erupting from her wings and then Daenerys managed to grab the branch with her hind legs. Instantly it wrapped around her near vanished limbs, yanking her down with great strength as the moth pushed upon her back. So hard until Daenerys felt she was about to pop from the pressure, before the tree gave a final powerful tug and the moth gave a final powerful push and Daenerys was torn downwards until she was falling as fast as a dislodged star down onto Essos. Above all that remained of the moth was those shimmering glowing wings until she was lost among the sea of stars.
The tree continued to pull and pull and pull until the land rushed towards her, away from the dark sky and the golden beast, until she saw the pyre once again all burnt and gutted as it sped towards her. The tree released her to seep into the ground like oil and Daenerys flared her wings, managed to glide to a halt on the grass rather than smashing into it. As she lay dazed on the dusty earth she saw a dragon curled on the pyre before her, scales of purple of various shades that sparkled and shimmered like dusk and horns and fins of silver-gold.
Aemon? Daenerys thought dazedly, feeling metal beneath her paws as she pushed herself back up. But then the dragon dissolved into nothing like a mirage and she was alone.
She was alone on the field and beyond. Nothing with her, no dragon, no khalasar, no Jorah.
My son. Where is he, I want him, Daenerys flexed out her wings, pushing away the pain of betrayal. She was exhausted but her thoughts were clearer. She did not know the darkness with the golden beast and the moth but she felt as if she had not belonged at all. It was strange yet Daenerys still had to move on.
If I look back I am lost.
She was tired yet her wings still worked as she swept them down, taking a slow pace across the land of Essos. Despite how slow she flew the land below passed in a blur, flying over great storms and floods, churning bays and crumbling cities, over Meereen and past the smoking ruins of Valyria, high above the flaming city of Volantis then over Lys and Tyrosh. Across the Narrow Sea to fly over Greenstone and Mistwood. The trees were stained red with blood, swaying in the wind as she flew overhead.
Westeros was full of plains, sheep and cattle and small holds. Daenerys banked her wings, searching for Ghidorah. Where did he go?
"Remember who you are, Daenerys Stormborn," the stars high above whispered to her in a woman's voice. "Your dragon knows. Do you?"
She followed a deep blue river, twisting and churning through the land before she flew over the humped backs of mountains.
As she descended upon the other side a great ruin caught her attention and she tilted her wings, gliding over the burnt innards of the castle, the night sky casting the crumbling stone silver. It seemed like a scar upon the lands, burnt and blackened despite the surrounding grass.
Summerhall, Daenerys realized in wonder.
Burnt and gutted, with many of the stone melted like wax. Flora had grown wild, vines and grass seeping through the crumbled castle.
In the heart of the ruins Daenerys spied the remains of dragon eggs; covered in rippling scales, shining like jewels in the starlight as Daenerys glided overhead. After some hesitance, as she could feel such great heat coming from the empty ruins and in the distance the screams and sobs of those burning alive, she landed upon the highest point of the crumbling castle. The stone still felt hot beneath her talons and the scent of smoke and salt and melting flesh filled her nostrils. She kept her wings partially spread, ready to flee as the cries of the dying grew louder despite the empty lands.
She felt so far and yet so near the eggs down below, near enough she could feel the heat from their rippled forms and the screams of those burning alive, but far enough she could see the seven clustered together. In the centre was an egg of gold and silver with fiery veins, then it was surrounded by three more eggs; one of white with green ripples, one of orange with pale blue whorls, one of rich purple threaded with back. Those three were split asunder, showing dark empty hollows of nothingness. There where three more, more buried within the ash and so covered in soot and dirt she could not see their colours.
Around them were bones, so many bones of so many people and Daenerys could still hear their screams. Almost all the bones were bleach white despite the surrounding ash and burn scars upon the land but Daenerys spied two which were as black as polished onyx.
Daenerys spread her wings and took flight, unable to bear the screams and heat of the empty ruins anymore as she left the buried eggs and empty shells behind.
As she flew over the Stormlands she saw more scorch marks, ripping open the ground like oozing scars. Streaks of blood, streaks of fire, scattered remains of dead and dying. Even the grey forms of elephants stomping along the fields, by the rivers and men of gold. Off in the far west she could see a great fire burning but Daenerys continued northward, flying over more bloodied farmland and burnt holds.
More and more until she could see King's Landing, rising rapidly on the horizon as she continued to fly. The surrounding walls rose tall and golden but Daenerys could see the filth flooding the streets within, the reek of waste rising in the air like miasma. It looked wrong, titled, like a child's toy rather than a city but as Daenerys flew closer her attention caught on a great spiked chair surrounded by pale red stone. Much like her dream in the House of the Undying, she recognized the Iron Throne instantly. She could see the shine of the swords, warped and folded in the mimicry of a silvery throne.
And she also saw the dragon perched upon its spiky back, black and red tail coiled around the twisted frame of the throne. It looked up at her approach, flaring out its wings before hissing at her like a snake. Daenerys snarled back, fire flickering from her maw and then the other dragon took to the air and they were fighting high above the city.
They bit, they kicked, they breathed fire. They buffeted each other with their wings, rending open wounds upon each other's scales that sent boiling blood falling below like crimson rain.
Daenerys was wounded in the fight, already tired and gaining great chunks bitten from her snout and wings shredded to weep red but then she got her jaws upon the other dragon's necks and tore it free.
Blood and fire spilling from the black and red dragon's gaping wound, it fell from the sky and plummeted downwards until it was impaled upon the jutting swords of the Iron Throne's belly up. Its body thrashed and flailed, tail smashing at the rock and blood and flames spewing across the ground.
The fire pumping from its gaping wound spread like burning oil and Daenerys watched, horrified, as the entirety of King's Landing began to burst in flames. Green and twisting, it spread like water until the entire city was a great churning mass of fire. Screams rent the air like those at Summerhall and the reek of burning flesh sought out her bleeding nostrils as everyone began to burn.
The dragon impaled on the throne twitched, tail and wings flexing as fire and blood continued to spill from its gaping throat before it went still and the light faded from its dark eyes.
Wings beating Daenerys was eventually forced from the great maelstrom of green flame by the raging heat, fleeing north and away from the dead dragon and the burning of King's Landing.
On and on she flew until the air grew colder and colder. Her blood dripped to the ground far below, strained with corpses and dying of all shapes and sizes and colour.
Until she reached the Wall.
Much like the Iron Throne, she recognized it by story alone. Made of ice and stretching over seven hundred feet in height, the Wall towered over everything around it. The cold was a welcoming change from the burning heat of King's Landing yet when Daenerys flew over the Wall there were bodies strewn across the top. Savagely slaughtered, the bodies were sprawled in pools of congealing blood frozen in the cold. Some had lost limbs, even heads. And among them was another dead dragon, wings spread and neck bent, with its hide punctured in great bloody holes. Its eyes followed her in mute appeal as she flew overhead, continuing on to the Land of Always Winter.
Mother of dragons…child of storm…
Daenerys shivered as she flew over the Wall, as she flew further over the snowy tundra. A part of her wanted to turn and leave. But she had promised and kept flying.
Below she saw people, wrapped in fur and struggling through the snow. But some were dead, showing rotted skulls or missing limbs, and attacked the living with wild abandon. Some human, some animals, some giants, some mammoths, wild shapes that attacked and fought. And some of the figures were carved of ice, shimmering limbs and armour that shone like polished mirrors. Some would look up, would see Daenerys flying overhead with bright blue eyes that pierce through the falling snow like lanterns.
There was a forest she passed over, with skeletal trees coated in snow and ice and of so many various species she could not name them. But there were also a great cluster weirwood within, weeping bloody sap and scowling faces, and perched within the branches were two ravens, one with snowy plumage and cherry-red eyes and the other reddish-brown. Both ruffled their wings and squawked as Daenerys flew overhead, beady eyes following her scaled form as she continued north.
Beyond that forest the land grew desolate, giving way to great dead plains of snow and rivers made of blue ice. Trees vanished until there were only rocks and immense skeletons of long dead beasts, and more and more of the dead wandering down below.
Above the sky also changed the further she flew, the deep ink black of the night giving way to great colourful ribbons of green, pink and blue which danced and twisted in the air. It was an ethereal beauty, the great stretches of pale white snow with the vibrant lights above.
Daenerys flexed her wings and swept them down once again, a thin line of frost attempting to creep over the membranes. Below she occasionally saw one of the figures of ice, blue eyes flashing as they looked up to her. Some had hair that streamed behind them like silk while others were fully clad in their reflective armour. Some rode horses while other ran across the snow on foot, never leaving prints behind.
Then the snowy ground grew rocky, strange spirals made of black shimmering stone in patterns over and over again as more Others appeared. And another weirwood came to being, dwarfing any of the others she'd seen and there were even more of the Others. Some on foot and others on steads and even one standing upon the thick roiling roots of the weirwood. And in the distance Daenerys could hear wings and far beyond the great weirwood Daenerys could see a barbed, spiked shadow taking to the air with a flurry of snow.
There is ice and there is fire. Hate and love. Bitter and sweet, winter and summer. Evil and good. Death and life. Everywhere, opposites. Fire is love, fire is passion, ice is betrayal, ice is revenge. Fire and blood.
Aemon's voice was reverberating through her mind and she did not notice the great spear of shimmering ice before it smashed into her throat and blew it open. With a shriek of pain and surprise she plummeted downwards towards the white shadows, blood and fire raining down below before she crashed into the great tree headfirst in a burst of flame and snow.
And back in Meereen Daenerys jolted awake with a gasp.
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