Maybe this was the reason why Targaryens had white skin and hair, four hundred years of honor and history so a little girl could hide between the white dunes of the Essos coastline. Unlikely at best, delusional most likely, Aegon the conqueror himself would renegade of her. After all how could this barely standing, shoeless, starving and sunburn beggar drinking from a rotten pool of rainwater be the blood of the dragon? At the least she had managed to keep out of the eye of anybody, and most importantly, out of the eye of the passing ships, even if she had managed to lose her dainty slippers even before crossing out Pento's gates she had no desire to be turned into pirate's or smuggler's loot. The heat was scorching during the day and the opportunities of her being seen higher so she only used it to forage, even if the water, insects and crabs made her queasy. The night was for walking, always along the water always North, toward home, more like, toward the closest thing to home she has ever knew.

-We are close my children-They have to be because she isn't sure how long will she last-Soon there will be a nice brazier, you won't be cold anymore-

Even if she allowed other's to see he, would they think her crazy for speaking to them? Or would they only see rocks? Like the handmaidens in Illyrio Mopatis house had. But they were not rocks, she knew, they were her children and the only ones that she had left in the world now, after, after she, after she had killed Viserys. She used to dream all the time of the house with the red door and the lemon tree, now what little she could sleep was jumpy and restless, full of fear and of her brother hands pushing her against the bed, his words, the sneer on his mouth, the sickening sound of his head against the unyielding shell of the egg on her hand. Sometimes she would only dream of him lying on the floor unmoving, those were the worst, no sound no violence, just a roar of desperation that wouldn't let her wake up and stop seeing her brother's blood seeping on the carpet.

-I don't want to sleep my children-Maybe that's why she could keep walking after everything, thinking she could outrun her own mind, and all those that must be hunting for her now-Lets sing a song, yes?-

She had made sure that they were always in the sun even if she didn't, close and halfway buried in the boiling sands, she could not make a fire but she could make her children as comfortable as they could be while on the run. And children need songs right? She clearly remembers a servant girl getting her infant son to sleep with one such melody. But nobody ever sang to her, from the moment she had memory mother was long gone and Viserys was not one for songs, not happy ones at the least. But she did remember one, heard again and again on halls, and inns and holes in the ground, even if her brother sneered at it, it was popular and most importantly it was happy, her children should only have happy songs.

-Now how it went? - She knew the half forgotten humming came out of his mouth awkwardly at best, but at the least there was nobody there to laugh- A bear there was, a Bear, A BEAR, all …black and white and…and-

She furrowed her brow attempting to make out the words, if she couldn't remember even this, how could she sing the whole song. Even then she most certainly was not expecting the man's voice helping her along.

-And covered with hair-

She was not ashamed to recognize her scream being a shrill panicked thing. After the weeks alone and hiding, the man voice could not elicit any other response than sheer utter terror, even if he stood there by his horse smiling through his beard, as nonthreatening someone that doubled her size could. It didn't matter, she could recognize a warrior, even under that cheerful yellow shirt and ridiculous peacock scabbard he was carrying, he had the same standing that she remembers from Ser Darry's better days. So then, a sells sword? An assassin? A…a knight? Had they finally caught up to her? Whoever THEY, may be.

-I have been told numerous times that my signing voice it's truly nothing to write home about but I see they were being kind.-

She observed him carefully as he tied his horse down on the shadow always making sure his hand were under her line of sight, there were plate armor pieces tied to one of the flanks of the animal. He left it there, along most of his bags, only carrying a small one when coming closer to her, his other hand upwards; movements slow, and body low; she had seen men approach wild dogs that way. She must be really a mess for this man to worry about her actions.

-Peace child, just this old knight and his horse seeking refuge from the midday. We have clean water and food and- he gave her a little self-deprecating smile as he sat under her rocky outcrop, barely giving her children's a glance- this bear may not be the fairest but he knows his songs.

The best would be to still side with caution so she kept her stare distrustful, something he valiantly ignored, that's it till he finished unpacking. A loud growl startled her before sinking in shame after realizing it was her stomach at the simple sight of dried fruit and meat. He was kind enough to not make comments about it and his laugh had no bite to it, even while he laid a sizeable amount of his food in front of her.

-I don't suppose I have to prove it isn't laced with anything if I am eating the same? - He laughed yet again under the fire of her glare; apparently he didn't find her as dangerous as she initially thought. –Eat child, you look about to kneel over from starvation.

The simple meat and fruit tastes like glory in the wake of deprivation so she proceeds to devour them as if they were the last scraps in the world. His, surprisingly intense, blue eyes never leave her but he does join in eventually after also handing over his waterskin to her. The midday sun still rages over when they finish and he doesn't seem to be going away every soon because he lays down, exhaling a sigh of pleasure at the cold sand and closing his eyes. Picking on the remnants of the food she feels a sudden and deep shame realizing she has neither given him thanks for it, as a matter of fact she has not even spoken to him.

-I…-That surprises him enough to make him open a eye, but makes no movement beyond that-….thank you-

His apparent serenity makes her want to speak, too much time has passed since she had the luxury of small talk.

-A knight?-

-A knight- He snorts in what could be called amusement- Blessed by the High Septon himself, for what it's worth -

-Like in the stories….-She can't finish that train of thought because he outrights laughs at it, is a mocking laugh but also one full of hurt's that she has no force or interest in digging out. Maybe she should instead figure in how much a trouble she was.-What come news from Pentos?-

-Beat me child, I travel to Bravos from Norvos, and before that from places to far away to hear news of any kind, I have yet to see Pentos in three full years-

-Oh, that is nice, I suppose-A big amount of tension she didn't even know she had left her body-What kind of places ser….mmm-

-Jorah, Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island, Westeros- A bear indeed, like the song - And if I am to be the storyteller today, knowing one audience goes a long way, or so I have been told-

-Dany-She was not going to give him anything more, not yet anyway.

-Well Dany that travels to Braavos, do not fear, I know nothing of why or whom you run away.

-I am not running away-That had come across as rather defensive though-I just…wish to go to Braavos-

-What for? A pretty child like you has no business in Braavos, unless you are planning to be a courtesan-

-Do you dare-She was half a mind to use the man head as another impromptu test of resistance against one of her egg's- I would never…that it's so disgusting.

-Peace child, peace- He was smiling again, as if he had just told a funny joke instead of making abominable assumptions about her-Courtesans are very respected in Braavos, you know, and with those looks of yours….-

-I don't wish to speak of this anymore-

-Anything you wish your grace-

That made her jump almost as high as when he had finished the song for her.

-How do you?- How could he indeed- You said you didn't come from Pentos Ser, do you lie to me so quick?

-I do not lie; it's easy to know, what, if not whom, you are child. Essos may have forgotten but from where I come from every child knows what those eyes and hair of yours mean. And well…-He made a jerking movement toward her children- ..I to have some idea what those are. But we can keep on with this mummer's show if that's what you wish.

Daenerys Targaryen observed her children roast in the sun, half her mind wondering if they liked it and the other half pondering on if she had the courage to admit her name before this strange, this knight of her homeland brought to her by fate. Maybe that's what he was, a gift of the gods for the last Targaryen, even if she was a kinslayer, could she admit to that to?

-The road to Braavos is still long Ser Jorah, for the moment you owe me a song.

He also had quite the nice smile, this golden bear.