A/N: Alrighty, y'all. This is a quick little One Shot of how I think things should've gone after Dany was killed by Jon. Let me set one thing straight: I was not a fan of this season. It definitely had its moments, but overall I was disappointed. That said, it's the one we got, and likely (like 99.9%) the one we will be left with. Emilia Clarke did a fantastic job as my favourite character: Daenerys Targaryen. This fic is more a homage to her, and her skills as an actress, and Dany's character, rather than any sort of alternate ending to anything. This is for the fans who need closure, who wanted more for Dany, but keeping with the outcome that, in all honesty, I knew was coming from the start. I knew she'd die, but I wished it wasn't like this. So, here is my take on what came… after. Valar Morghulis.
Disclaimer: All Rights for Game of Thrones belong to HBO, and George R.R. Martin. I take no ownership.
When the Sun Rises in the West, and Sets in the East
She felt the cold steel pierce into her rib cage, clawing it's way up to her heart. A heart she had closed off to everyone else in the world but him, and her children. She stared at him in confusion, into those dark, kind eyes she had fallen in love with. Now filled with an immeasurable sadness, they gazed back, tears and determination swimming in them.
The taste of his lips on hers still lingered, as he gently lowered her to the ground; the cold, cold ground. She felt the snow press against her back, as her body grew tired, and a chill set into her bones. She tried to speak, but only a weak gasp escaped her lips, now wet with her own blood, and it began to trickle from her nose and mouth. She was certain the snow beneath her was becoming a deep crimson. "Fire and Blood"; those were her words. But now, there was only blood. Only a darkness creeping ever closer. And only him. Only his face, crippled with agony, looming over her as she felt the last of the strength leave her body. She closed her eyes, allowing the shadows to consume her. As her body grew heavy in his arms, he slowly let her go, leaving her to cool on the throne room floor. Leaving her there. Alone. As he had left her before. He stared down at her, a grim look in his eyes, as he heard the sound of beating wings drawing ever closer.
Jon Snow had killed Daenerys Targaryen.
She felt heat.
Not the heat of fire, nor the heat of anger. Just heat. Was it the sun? What was it? Dany opened her eyes, and found she lay upon the ground.
She slowly sat up, surveying her surroundings. A desert. Cracked and broken, and dry as bone. It stretched into an expanse she could not see the end of. She squinted, and the heat, now which she determined came from the sun above her, blinded her momentarily. Immediately, she grabbed at her breastplate, moving the cloth of her garments around, feeling for the dagger wound Jon Snow has left within her. But, as she pulled her clothing apart, she found nothing. No wound, no blood, no pain.
Just... nothing.
Dany turned her gaze to the horizon once more. Now, however, she spotted something else. Something that felt so familiar, for some strange reason, and yet it could have been from a dream. There, in the distance, was a hut. Adorned with leather, and held together by wood, and metal, she saw it. It looked... Dothraki? But... no. It couldn't be.
She rose slowly, finding she had less strength than she usually did, as if she had just gone on some incredible journey. Her muscles ached, and her feet, at first, would not obey her. She shuffled, stumbled, practically crawled, to the hut, grasping at the make-shift cloth door, ripping it open. She practically fell inside, tripping in her exhaustion. She steadied herself, planting her feet more firmly onto the ground. As she gazed downwards, making sure her stance was strong, she took note she was no longer wearing the clothes had merely moments before, when she had been studying her body for mortal wounds. Instead, she wore a tan tunic, yellowed skirt, and lavender cloth. It felt so foreign to her, but so... had she worn this before?
She reached up to touch her hair, and felt the intricate braid she had had before was gone, replaced with a simple style, no curls, and loose around her. She gazed at her palms, her heart pounding, or was it? She couldn't tell. She felt fear, and yet… Her eyes looked ahead, into the depths of the tent, and she slowly moved forwards, pushing passed the items that hung from the roof, making her way deeper still into the welcoming golden light from within. As she was about to enter into the middle of the tent, she knew what, or rather who, she would find. She didn't know how, but she knew, and it both pained her, and elated her. Was this real? She took a few more steps forward, until the last of the fabric parted, and she was faced with…
"My Sun and Stars…" Her voice came out hoarse, as though she hadn't drank water in an age. Her Dothraki wasn't rusty, but the phrase she used certainly was. It felt ancient on her tongue, something she hadn't spoken in so many years, as she gazed down upon the face of…
"Moon of my Life." Khal Drogo's deep voice resonated within the tent. In his arms, he held a child, the same child Dany had seen in her vision during her time in the House of the Undying in Qarth. It was her son, Rhaego. Dany stared, the entire scene before her slowly making more sense. She had been here before, when she had been in Qarth, trying to free her children from that accursed Warlock, and she had entered into the House of the Undying, and she had seen –
Dany paled, her skin no doubt matching her hair. She had seen The Iron Throne that day, covered in snow, in a hall destroyed by Dragon Fire, she imagined, seeing as how she had done so in her own reality. She had reached for it, but hadn't been able to touch it before being pulled away by the cries of her infant dragons. Now, here she was again, facing her husband, and her son, as she had long before. She had had to pull away from them then, and she knew she had to now. As much as it would hurt, she had to do it. For the good of her future as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
She spoke again, and her voice cracked like parchment, "I cannot stay here, my love. I have to go back. You know this, like the last time."
Drogo looked at her, his gaze unwavering. "You are so strong, Moon of my Life. You conquered the Iron Chair, pulled the men from their stone houses, and rode wooden horses across the salt sea. You make me proud." Dany stared, her eyes burning with tears, but she didn't speak. "You fought a war without me by your side, but you rose like the Great Stallion, and conquered the world. You are the true Khaleesi of the Dothraki." He extended his hand to her, and she eyed it warily, "Now, it is time to rest, come sit with us."
Dany exhaled, her heart aching. She wanted to go to him, and hold her son. She wanted to remain there forever. But she had a job to do. Jon Snow had made an attempt on her life, and she would not allow him to walk freely for it. She was Daenerys Targaryen. She was the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Breaker of Chains, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She could not stay here. She blinked once, and a few tears fell from her eyes.
"I cannot, my Sun and Stars." Her whisper was carried in the soft wind that blew through the tent. "I am as strong as the Great Stallion, and I must finish what I began. I am Fire and Blood, and my enemies continue to plot while I stand here. I must go back."
Drogo looked sad, then. "Do you not know where you are?"
Dany looked around her, up at the tent, back towards the door. "I am in a vision, as before. This is not real, as it was before. It is a dream," she paused, looking at him, a gentle smile on her lips, "And despite it being the best dream I have had in years, it must come to an end."
Drogo stared at her, and Rhaego burbled in his arms, watching his mother with…lavender eyes. Dany felt a few more tears fall. He was a beautiful child. She longed to go to him, to take him in her arms, to know him. But she couldn't – she couldn't. She was about to speak, when suddenly a sound caused her to turn. She heard it so distinctly. But, it couldn't be… But it was.
It was the sound of her dragons.
Dany spun on the spot, her heart pounding. It wasn't possible she'd be hearing them now. Unless this was the same vision she had had in the House of the Undying? Had she ever truly left? Where the last few years of her life merely an elaborate vision? She heard Drogo call to her as she raced from the tent, heart threatening to beat its way from her chest. As she burst forth from the tent, back into the now slowly setting sun, she gazed out over the horizon, shaking. In the distance, she saw something that made her blood run cold as ice.
She saw Viserion and Rhaegal.
They were clear as day in the distance, arcing and soaring above the clouds, now turning pink and gold in the sunset. It was unmistakeably them. She was sure of it. She'd recognize them anywhere. But… where was Drogon?
Suddenly Dany felt the chill slowly filling her body become a crushing tidal wave.
Behind her, Drogo had exited the tent, still holding their son, watching her. As he spoke, she flinched as though stung. "Do you know where you are, Moon of my Life?"
"Is… is this sorcery?" Dany whispered. She turned to face him, tears in her eyes, looking up at the only man she had ever truly, deeply, loved. The only man who she had trusted implicitly. Her Sun and Stars, her Khal, the father of her beautiful baby boy. Rhaego gurgled, and his tiny hand reached for her. Dany, almost unconsciously, allowed him to wrap his little fingers around her finger, and he squeeze gently. Dany felt an unimaginable amount of love fill her as he did, and she wanted to cry out. She turned her gaze to Drogo, silently begging him to tell her what was going on.
Drogo, seeming to sense her discomfort, spoke again. "Look to the West, and tell me what you see."
Dany blinked, confused, but turned to face the setting sun. As she did, however, something felt wrong. She watched the sun set, but it looked… wrong. She felt Drogo's arm gently turning her, to face behind her. "What are you doing?" She asked, surprised. West is the sun set, is it not?" Even as the words left her mouth, realization began to dawn on her.
"West." Drogo said simply. They faced the slowly darkening horizon, and beyond them, in the distance of the dry, desolate desert, Dany could see mountains. "Watch." Drogo said softly, and a large gust of wind suddenly picked up behind them. Dany watched in amazement as the mountains began to crack and break beneath the winds, shifting, changing shape, but ultimately turning to dust before her eyes. Dany felt as though her heart would cease to beat altogether. She whirled to face Drogo, terrified.
He was looking down at her, as was Rhaego, the latter eerily silent as her husband. Drogo reached out with his free hand, slowly wiping away a few tears from her cheeks. How had they gotten there? Dany blinked, and more fell. She was beginning to understand, as much as it pained her. She closed her eyes when Drogo spoke, hearing his words, but not daring to see him speak. "When the sun rises in the West, and sets in the East. When the sea go dry, and the mountains blow in the wind likes leaves…" He trailed off, and Dany opened her eyes, tears pouring down her face.
"When my womb quickens again, and I bear a living child. Then you shall return, my Sun and Stars, but not before." It hadn't been about Drogo returning to her after all. Her voice broke horribly, as Drogo slowly handed Rhaego to her, and she stared down at the young face of her infant son. He nuzzled into her breast, lilac eyes closed, cooing softly. Dany wept as she held him, realization washing over her like tidal wave after tidal wave. She sobbed brokenly, emotions she hadn't felt in an age piercing her heart more aggressively than any dagger thrust into it by Jon Snow. She wept for her husband, and for her son. She wept for Viserion, and Rhaegal, for Drogon left alone in the world without her. She wept for Grey Worm. She wept for Jorah, and Missandei. For her brothers, her father, and her mother. She wept for the Targaryens. For the Dothraki, for everyone she had affected or known in her life. She wept for them all. She even wept for Jon Snow, and Tyrion. She had loved them, she truly had, and they had killed her. She had been betrayed by so many, and loved deeply by some. She had clawed her way from nothing, to everything, and it had been taken from her in an instant. She had lived an entire lifetime in such a short amount of years, and it was all over now. She allowed herself to feel it all, to understand it; something she had been incapable of doing in life. She took a breath, and calmed herself, long enough to gaze upon her husband once more, who looked down at her with sorrowful affection.
"What of Drogon?" She croaked out, her eyes turning to her two other children, soaring in the distance. Beyond them, she thought she had some figures on the ground. They looked familiar, two with silver hair, like hers, another clad in armour, and another a woman with large, black hair. Her eyes stung, and she felt a small smile, tug, for only an instant, before turning to Drogo as he spoke.
"He will protect you in the Day Lands," His voice was soft, gentle, unlike any he had ever had in life. Dany nodded slowly, struggling to understand. "I will protect you in the Night Lands." He gestured above them, and Dany saw that the sun had almost fully set now, and the sky was filled with thousands, no millions, of glittering stars. They illuminated the sky like small torches, casting more light than Dany had thought possible. As she turned back to Drogo, she could see the figures, and her dragons, approaching ever closer, and as she could make out their features, she saw each held a kind smile for her. Ones of love, family, and safety. Dany exhaled, closing her eyes, allowing herself to feel everything. In her arms, Rhaego slept, soft snores coming from his tiny nose, and Dany couldn't help but smile as she gently stroked his dark hair.
Drogo spoke again, slowly reaching behind him, opening the tent again. "Come inside, Moon of my Life. It is time to rest, now."
Dany looked at him, then at Rhaego, then towards the approaching figures, and her children. She felt a sense of warmth fill her. Rhaego stirred, and Dany lowered her head, planting a soft kiss on the top of his, feeling his hair tickle her nose, inhaling his scent. He smelled like home to her. She smiled softly. She knew there was no fixing this. This wasn't a dream, this was real. This had been her fate all along, and there was no way to change it. It hurt, it would always hurt, but… She looked back to her husband, standing in the doorway to the tent, in the last light of the dying sun, as the stars above gleamed brighter than anything she had ever seen. She nodded once, and she slowly followed Drogo into the tent. As she was enveloped in the warm glow of the fire, and as she sat herself beside her husband, she felt something. It was something new, something she didn't understand, but something she knew she had needed since she was a little girl who couldn't count to twenty.
She was Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, First of Her Name, the Unburnt, Queen of Mereen, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons. And, for the first time her in existence…
…she felt peace.
A/N: I hope you guys liked it. I'll fix any errors as I find them, but I just really wanted to get this uploaded. I listened to the House Targaryen theme as I wrote, and my god did it give me feels. Remember: this is a One Shot – it's not great, but it's not awful, I think. It's emotional, and it's raw, like her existence was. Dany deserved better, not in her fate, because as I said I accepted that, but better than we got. But, if you liked the last season, the more power to you. Everyone is entitled to an opinion. It's still an awesome show/series/universe. Take care, everyone!
