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Published:2020-04-25Updated:2026-04-06Words:409,591Chapters:71/?Comments:5,539Kudos:6,021Bookmarks:1,663Hits:467,571
The Stormborn and the Stormbringer
SkilledWarriorKiwi
Chapter 66: Dragonstone
Notes:
Anzac day 🌺
Chapter Text
The Hand of the King, Ser Jon Connington, met them at the gates which lead up the ancient stone pathway to Dragonstone itself. The gates were flanked by two rearing dragons, mouths curled in snarls and carved from unyielding black stone. It took four draft horses to open the gates, the ancient steel groaning as it slowly pried apart, to reveal the form of Ser Jon Connington. Weathered face lined, hair white but his beard still stubbornly held red. His black tunic had the right sleeve pinned to the shoulder, to compensate for the missing limb.
Daenerys kept her face blank as she realized the man perfectly fit the image of the specter she had seen during her torment in the mines of Old Valyria. It was how she knew the man even without the urchin herald announcing the Hand's name to her.
Connington's entourage were a collection of soldiers, all clad in black and red armour with breastplates filigreed with dragons in flight, along with a Lyseni and a man with his dark hair pulled back in a topknot. For Daenerys, her entourage held her Queensguard- including all three of her bloodriders -Grey Worm, Missandei, Prince Qunetyn and his cohort, along with a small gaggle of servants bearing crates. Targaryen banners snapped in the wind, the air stinking of salt and sulfur. The numerous bells threaded within her braid chimed softly.
"Empress Daenerys Targaryen," Ser Connington's voice was loud and carrying, easily heard over the dull roar of the ocean behind them. "I, Ser Jon Connington, Lord of Griffin's Roost and Hand of the King, welcome you to Dragonstone. The king awaits within the courtyard, I shall guide you to His Grace."
"Thank you for hospitality, Lord Hand," Daenerys replied. "It is a welcome sight, the hold of House Targaryen back within the care of dragons."
As if to emphasize that point, Ghidorah took flight from the beach. The noise of his down stroke was akin to a clap of thunder, the noise reverberating across the cliffs. Far below she could see her khalasar slowly carrying Ghidorah's saddle back to the ship, some of the very few whom her son would tolerate so near.
Ser Connington's face was pale past the beard as Ghidorah's massive form flew overhead, flinging them all into shadow for two long heartbeats before the golden dragon continued his leisurely flight up towards the castle. His entourage reacted much the same, nervous and flinching like hens beneath the gaze of a hawk. Connington regained his composure quickest, inviting Daenerys and her cohort to accompanying him up to Dragonstone proper. She gracefully accepted, ignoring the panicked sweat upon the guards.
The short trek from the sea-side village to the castle was along a path of Valyrian stone, the same rock the ancient dragonroads spread across Essos were carved from. The bridge was bracketed by the ocean, waves crashing fruitlessly against the stone, with the width easily fitting four horses riding side by side. Daenerys found the short walk refreshing, even as Dragonstone with the great volcano loomed closer. The air was warm, despite the slow yet steady descent into winter's merciless tundra.
She had debated long and hard about bringing Una with her within Dragonstone, but the past actions of Stannis Baratheon and his red woman were fresh in the minds of Westeros so after some discussion she left the R'hllor priestess upon her ship. She may bring the maegi with her to King's Landing, if not only for the woman's ability to smell out poison within food and drink like a bloodhound, but for Dragonstone where people were burned for the Red God's sake she chose caution. As it was Lessa, who was accompanying the servants, had offered to taste any food as an impromptu poison checker if she was much worried about the potential. Daenerys could only hope the king wasn't foolish enough to try, especially with Ghidorah in such close proximity.
Soon they were before the great black iron gates leading into the courtyard of the towering curtain wall surrounding the keep. The gates were again guarded by dragons, raising on their haunches and muzzles touching with the gate bound between them. The gates groaned open as they were pulled apart by the ancient chains and all too soon Daenerys was before the King of Westeros even as Ghidorah continued his lazy circling high above. Of the other three dragons, there was no sign.
King Aegon looked very much a Targaryen, as she studied him as intently as he studied her.
He was young, just as she was. His hair was thick and short, pale with hints of gold and silver. Eyes a dark purple. He wore a black silk doublet embroidered with twisting dragons spitting out tiny garnet flames, high black boots, a clock of black-and-red cut in the jagged form of a wing which was fastened at his throat between two onyx dragon with glittering rubies for eyes, and a crown forged in the likeness of Aegon the Conqueror's own. A thick band of black steel inlaid with square-cut rubies.
Daenerys looked him over intently; for some reason, after all the debate and even the skeptical words of Ser Barristan the Bold, she thought that she would have a realization at meeting the king. That she would somehow 'feel' if he was truly kin, like the way her heart lurched when she saw Aemon dying upon the bed in Braavos. But this wasn't a meeting spurned on by an abrupt maegi intervention that led to a swift flight. Instead it had a long process of letters and missives and writings finally resulting in the meeting now.
Half the people in the keep who were watching the historic meeting seemed to be focused upon them, while the other half were watching the sky were Ghidorah's huge bulk was weaving through the sky.
Ser Connington spoke, breaking the silence, "I introduce to you King Aegon the Dragonlord, the Sixth of His Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."
Missandei spoke in turn, "I introduce to you Empress Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, First of Her Name, Empress of the East, the Unburnt, Wife of the God of Flame and Shadow, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Ghidorah the Stormbringer, the Golden Demise."
"I thank you for this invitation to our ancestral hold, Your Grace," Daenerys said with a polite smile.
She was surprised when Aegon stepped forward and took her hand, bending over it to press a feather-light kiss to her knuckles.
"Aunt," King Aegon said, as he pulled away even if his hand lingered around hers for longer than was proper.
Her smile became more genuine and Daenerys stepped after him, to press a quick kiss to his cheek, "Nephew."
Many relaxed in the vicinity, including the woman clad in white who had been clutching her star-shaped necklace tight enough to near cut her palms. Daenerys was more pleased that Aegon's insistence upon meeting her with friendship and cooperation was not just a farce upon letters. She still did not truly know if he was kin, and would most likely never know such truth, but above them Ghidorah had been joined by a determined tiny shadow, no larger than the spiked end of his tails.
The king looked giddy as she stepped back to a proper distance while Connington looked slightly pained as he said, "Perhaps, Your Grace, you can show Her Imperial Highness more of the keep? While we make ready her deliver her belongings to the guest chambers within the Sea Dragon Tower?"
She could see men clad in the white cloaks of the Kingsguard- the closest a brawny man with a thick beard and the other narrow and cold with a streak of black through his pale hair -move aside before the king offered his arm to her. Daenerys accepted, sliding her arm through his and allowing him to give her a tour of Dragonstone once the ritual offer of salt and bread. Their respective Kingsguard and Queensguard followed close, while the Lady and Lord Hand remained behind in conversation.
Even with such a long flight it was if being within Dragonstone had banished away her worries and aches. Much she knew by description alone due to her readings and sporadic lessons or questions to Ser Barristan, but it was another to be shown the buildings, the ancient dragons, the carved doorways and grotesque statues and watchful gargoyles. Behind her, Daenerys could hear her bloodriders conversing in rough Dothraki, speculating about how many horses would be needed to steal any of the draconic idols back to the godsway of Vaes Dothrak.
Paintings, portraits and tapestries of House Targaryen and even Old Valyria were on display within the entry hall of the Stone Drum, having been finally removed from the ancient vaults where they had been hidden away by the Usurper and his brothers. Daenerys recognized some of the Targaryens within the paintings, the most famous being Aegon the Conqueror with Blackfyre. But she also knew Queen Rhaenys and Queen Visenya, along with others such as Maegor the Cruel and Daeron the Good. King Aegon spoke about each portrait as they walked down the hall. Her heart twisted when she saw Aegon the Unlikely, brother of Aemon. She thought she could see the late maester within the oil painting, similarities of the nose and brow despite how aged Aemon had been whilst dying in her arms. The chains at her waist clinked as she walked forward.
Daenys the Dreamer she also recognized as they reached portraits and carvings of Targaryens before the Conquest, through that terrible vision she had in Old Valyria of the maiden with a burning city behind her. Daenys the Dreamer had large bright eyes that seemed to follow them as they walked past.
Tapestries were unfurled from the wall, and unlike the portraits most seemed to portray fighting or dragons burning or fornication or ancient landscapes of Old Valyria. None seemed to depict the monsters she had witnessed upon the peninsula, not even the flesh-eating horses. There were also several twisted humanoid figures that reminded Daenerys of the Drákontos priests, with their horns and tails and wings.
"I heard tell you had visited Old Valyria, it is where you found the marvel of the printing press though I must confess the stories told still leave me unsure," King Aegon said, arm holding hers.
Daenerys blinked, realizing she had been staring at one of the tapestries that depicted a blood-soaked horned figure surrounded by a pile of dead babies with Meraxes's faceless form looming above them.
Shaking off the memory of a room of jars filled with thousands of too-small skeletons, Daenerys tightened her grip around Aegon's arm, "Only once and that was enough. It was magnificent and terrible beyond compare. I wrote a book upon such a thing. Perhaps we could talk more fully about my visit there later. For now I wish to see more of our family's keep."
The sept of the Seven was almost desolate, as the massive pillars where the effigies of the Seven empty. The stain glass windows were clean, bringing in beams of rainbow light, while the numerous altars had offerings or sweet scented candles upon them. Several septas were tending to the room, sweeping or cleaning or singing softly in prayer. They all stopped and curtsied as king and empress entered the room. Daenerys felt oddly unwelcomed, as if the air itself was trying to rebuff her. She tensed but continued to follow Aegon into the room as he led them forward.
"Stannis Baratheon had the statues of the Seven, which had been carved from the masts of Aenar Targaryen's ships when he and his family fled Old Valyria, burned out upon the beach. Currently only the Mother and the Father have been completed by the stonemasons, yet soon the remaining five will be completed as well," the king explained, as they looked over the great empty plinths. "The two should be installed within a week, as they have to be shipped from King's Landing."
"Why would he burn the effigies?" Daenerys asked.
"To appease his red priestess, burnt them in honour of R'hllor, the Lord of Light. He also burnt some of his own people."
Daenerys hummed, "I could understand that, for I have been to Volantis and the Red Faith have said a great many things to me. But I also have followers of many different faiths. I do not command one faith to attack another, I do not want people burned in my honour. Those I burn are my enemies, not my own subjects."
"That would be good to hear, I know many are nervous as to a holy war as my Master of Whisperers spoke such rumours heard," the king said, leaning too close to her as was proper to the point their hair mingled. "It will appease many you have no inclination to follow Stannis Baratheon's actions. He and his brothers are all dead but the scars caused by their actions remain."
At the back of her mind she was aware of Ghidorah heading across the Blackwater, his small shadow having returned to settle back upon the Sea Dragon Tower as his speed greatly outmatched the other. Daenerys did not mind her son's curiosity in going to King's Landing, as he was swift enough he would be back soon before supper.
"I hope Westeros will know peace and prosperity, especially with winter so soon," Daenerys said as they ascended up the Stone Drum. Banners bearing the Targaryen herald hung across the wall and great sconces in the shape of dragon heads sprouted from the stone with candles burning upon their horns.
"It has been difficult," the king admitted. "Learning to rule a kingdom is tedious work, much less dealing with such a mess the War of the Five Kings left behind. But with the North returned to the fold we may finally move forward as one, even with how strange the current...guardian of Winterfell is."
"I heard Rickon Stark has been recovered hale and whole?"
"Yes, but he is young and his disgraced bastard half-brother Jon Snow is acting as his rabid guard dog. The man is not sane."
Daenerys blinked, "How so? I heard many rumours yet are unsure as to which is truth..."
King Aegon huffed, even as the Kingsguard opened the door before them at the landing and they entered another hallway. A group of washerwomen quickly pressed themselves to the wall, kneeling low as they passed.
The king spoke, voice scornful, "He visited King's Landing some time ago, begging for aid. He quite rudely refused to bend the knee and return the North to the throne, as if he could not comprehend the foolishness of begging for aid from a throne he is in open rebellion against. Later, through many meetings and the assistant of his steward, it was revealed he refused to do so simply because he wasn't heir to Winterfell and thus didn't have the authority. Lord Rickon could only do thing despite the boy not even being ten years old and barricaded up in Winterfell. Even after claiming he was the late Robb Stark's heir this Jon Snow was still insistent the only one who could relinquish the North back into the crown's hold was the heir to Winterfell, not himself."
"If he was sent to act on behalf of the North's interest then why would he not do such a thing? Especially if he was placed as guardian and could act upon that authority as the current Stark is too young to rule? And would not being Robb Stark's heir mean the same?"
"He did not think so, vehement in saying both were different and thus he would not bend the knee as he had no right. Then again, Haldon is of the opinion the man lost his wits at the Wall which is why he was behaving the way he was. Considering the wild rumours he spoke, of the dead and monsters in the Lands of Always Winter, I am inclined to see that as truth. As luck would have it, a meeting was commenced through White Harbour with my Hand clarified and resolved the issue. And now the Seven Kingdoms are one again. However I do not think this Jon Snow will cease to be an issue, if he truly is mad. Hopefully Rickon Stark ages fast and brings his half-brother back to his wits."
"At least, regardless of his madness he remains kind and protective to his family," Daenerys said, even if she inwardly sighed at Aegon's dismissal of the Others. It would have to be a topic approached gently and slowly. Still, she had faith Kinvara would see to her affairs at the Wall itself, even if the king chose to never believe her.
Their conversation shifted, back to Aegon explaining how Dragonstone had been reclaimed through the siege with the aid of Ser Loras and the Tyrells who remained in close allies with House Targaryen in current days. Much of the damage caused in the siege had already been repaired, and none of the battle had managed to harm the ancient stone forged during Aenar's time.
They reached the top of the Stone Drum, where the Chamber of the Painted Table was located. A round room with four huge windows looking over the north, east, south and west. The Painted Table is a large table over fifty feet long, carved from a block of wood and painted in the form of a detailed map of Westeros. Positioned near Dragonstone's spot on the map is a raised seat carved of a dark stone. An empty hearth was at one end of the chamber while an ancient brazer was close to the table. The Painted Table was where Aegon and his sister-wives planned the invasion of Westeros and Aegon the Conqueror suffered a stroke while showing his grandsons, Princes Aegon and Viserys, the table some decades later with him dying shortly after.
As seen on dragonback, Daenerys thought, after they circled the table and proceeded to descend the stairs back down into the gullet of the Stone Drum.
They had to cross the gallery, pass through the middle and inner walls with their guardian gargoyles and black iron gates, to reach the Sea Dragon Tower, while Aegon told her of the rebuilding efforts of the sept in King's Landing as well as the aerie which he had chosen over a pit at her advice.
Soon they were walking down the hall, with thick velvet and fur rugs muffling their footsteps. Missandei was awaiting at one of the doors at the far end of the hall, gold-glinting hands clasped before her and expression serene.
"Your Grace, Your Imperial Highness," the Lady Hand greeted them.
"These are your guest chambers, my lady aunt," King Aegon said, finally releasing her arm as they halted before Missandei. "I do hope you find them adequate. We can speak more at supper. For now I am sure you wish for some rest."
"Indeed. Thank you for the tour, I am much pleased to be able to see this castle again. I recall none of it from my scant time born here and it is a joy to see it back within Targaryen care. I look forward to speaking to you more at supper."
With a last smile Daenerys went into the room with Missandei and Ser Barristan at her back, leaving the king and his white cloaks out in the hall. Her bloodriders and Strong Belwas remained to guard the doors to her guest chambers.
The chambers were decadent, walls covered in furs and tapestries, oil paintings and ancient armours. The hearth was lit, fire roaring merrily and Daenerys felt herself sigh as tension seeped from her shoulders even as Missandei began to herd her into the adjacent chambers where a great copper bath was awaiting. And then after, it would be the familiar toil of politics.
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