Author's note: Oh holy guacamole? i am really overwhelmed by the positive reactions to the first chapter! And I am happy to share this story with you all. I am always accepting wishes and requests, and will try to accomodate to those as best as i can within the context of the plot! And a huge, huge thank you for every single one of you who chose to comment!
Life. Life never had burned the way each gasp burned in her veins as though fire flooded her lungs and seeped into her veins. Coughing and wheezing, Daenerys became overwhelmingly aware of herself all at once. Daenerys wanted to scream, but the air was stuck in her lungs and came out as little but a breathless wheeze. From darkness she has been torn, frayed at the edges, torn apart and put together once more.
A plea, a kiss, a pain. The ashes of a city lost, the touch of a trusted hand, they all were gone, and she stared into the pink and golden skies of a sunset so far away from the gray day of victory that it felt like a somber, morbid dream altogether. Warmth wrapped around her as Drogon pressed his snout against her torso and she brought her hand up. Her fingers ran over the warm scales and tears welled up in her eyes. She was alive and Drogon was with her. A part of Daenerys felt as though she would hear Rhaegal and Viserion any second now – the flap of their wings, their gurgles and low-pitched yelps. Missandei would come up to her and run her hand through her hair, and Jorah would stand by and make sure no one would intrude on this blessed moment.
Dany was alive and for a couple of blissful moments, she felt as though things could be alright again. However, nothing would be alright. Softly, she pushed against Drogon's nostrils, and he followed the pressure with a fluid movement, pulling his head away from her gracefully. The sharp scent of burnt hair reached her nose as she sat up slowly. A wave of nausea came upon her, and her stomach churned.
Only now did she take in her surroundings – the yellowed grass, the evening sky... the woman who'd recoiled by a few feet, fearful of the dragon. They were alone in this desolate wilderness, and Daenerys struggled to read the emotions of this woman. Between fear, excitement, pride and pure joy, she could not tell which of these sentiments prevailed.
"You live. You live! You live!" The stranger's joy was exuberant, and her green eyes came alive with a fierce fervor that made Daenerys want to recoil instinctively. Zeal. Though this woman did not look like a Red Priestess – Drogon growled threateningly when the woman leaned in to move closer, and she stopped in her tracks, kneeling in the grass.
"Daenerys Stormborn, how do you feel?", she asked, trying to rein in her almost childish excitement. Daenerys did not remember the last time someone has been this overjoyed to see her.
"... Strange," she admitted, and though she knew exactly what had happened to her... this knowledge did not feel real. Another queen was stabbed by her lover, another woman was brought back to life. "You. You did this, didn't you?"
The woman nodded and Daenerys brought a hand up to her chest. The fabric of her coat was ripped and singed, and her fingertips ran over a scar. The scar Jon Snow left when he stabbed her. She was not reborn in fire, and no people came to kneel before her, Daenerys the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, Daenerys the Resurrected. She was alone with Drogon and this stranger.
"How?" A simple question that drew a laugh from the green-eyed stranger. Of course, such a question was bound to be a difficult one to answer. Daenerys knew that Jon has been dead, brought down by cowardly treachery for his justified efforts. It boggled her mind, still.
"How do dragons fly? How does the sun know when to rise? You willed the dragons to return to this world, I willed you to return among the living."
The woman stood up first and extended her hand towards Daenerys – after a moment of contemplation, she took the offer. Her knees felt weak and her stomach churned, turning into an unpleasant, unladylike growl. Wordlessly, the woman crouched down and rummaged through her leather knapsack. Something wrapped in linen. Cautiously, Daenerys accepted the linen-wrapped package. Flatbread and a few strips of jerky, a meat she could not identify for certain. A standard meal for the Dothraki who spent most of their time traveling, often not setting up proper camp for days. "Thank you."
She hated accepting the kindness of a stranger. The woman sat down in the grass, and Dany decided to do the same, caught by a wave of slight dizziness. "Thank you," she repeated, and for a brief moment, she wondered how one was supposed to thank someone for bringing them back from the dead. "You seem to know who I am... I am not a Lannister, but I, too, always pay my debts. I will find a way to repay you."
The enigmatic woman laughed softly, and amusement gleamed in her green eyes. In the light of the setting sun, Daenerys could make out sparks of red in the stranger's eyes. "At least in the Slaver's bay, one could put a price to a life quite easily, before you come along, Daenerys Stormborn. You can call me Ygerna, and I have hoped I could meet you."
Even though the joke about slavery was downright terrible, Daenerys laughed anyway, simply because she did not remember the last time she heard anyone trying to tell a joke. Not one that did not leave her feeling like she herself was the pointe.
"Thank you, Ygerna. It seems you met me."
"Indeed, I meet you, at last. You are elusive, Daenerys Stormborn."
What do you want from me? Of course, everyone wanted similar things. Power. Wealth. She was the rightful heiress to the Iron Throne, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Queen of Meeren, Yunkai and Astapor, the breaker of chains, the mother of dragons – she was many things, and to most people, she was a way to get the things they wanted for themselves. When Jon Snow's blade had pierced her heart... she understood that all of her hope has been in vain. His queen was all she could ever possibly be, and a part of her wanted to damn it for all it took from her.
Daenerys tore off a piece of flatbread and it took all of her self-control not to devour it hungrily. In the meantime, Ygerna deigned it appropriate to explain herself further: "You willed dragons back into existence, Daenerys Stormborn, and in doing so, you blurred the line between reality and volition. Magic runs through your veins. This magic that gave me the power to return you – I wish to understand it. You want to repay me for returning your life to you? Help me understand what makes you... you."
That request sounded straightforward only at first glance – the warlocks of Qarth had wanted the same. Daenerys knew that she was tied to magic and she knew that she and her dragons affected those who wished to use it. Ygerna might have brought her back to life, but at what cost?
"You look critical," Ygerna pointed out, and Daenerys cursed herself for not having paid enough mind to her facial expressions. She must not let her guard down. "I arrived in Meeren, hoping you might have use to someone who can offer counsel on matters of magic, only to find out that you set sail for Westeros one week prior to my arrival."
Daenerys fell silent, not sure whether she should deny anything at all. Surely, if this woman had half an ounce of sense, she would understand that the dragon queen had to be wary of strangers and their intentions. Her whole life, people had tried to take advantage of her, after all.
"You know... the sun is setting. How about you return to Pentos with me, and tomorrow we talk?", Ygerna offered, seemingly taking no offense in Daenerys' lack of reaction. Pentos... Dany's eyes widened slightly. She was in Pentos? So her journey really had taken her back to the start. Pentos, where Viserys had sold her off to the Khal. His words still rang in her head, his words, his touches, the way he looked at her, the way he threatened her whenever she as little as thought of stepping out of line. But she was a changed woman now. Now, she was strong, and nothing would intimidate her anymore.
Daenerys felt empty and lost, but she was still unbroken, and her fires still burned bright and hot.
"Thank you for your offer," she said and folded the linen into a neat square which she returned to Ygerna. This woman... Even though, outwardly, she was nowhere even half as threatening as the Dothraki who'd captured her, she knew better than to trust witches. The last time she had put her faith in one...
"I left my horse nearby," Ygerna continued and stuffed the linen back in her knapsack before getting up from the grass. "Come with me, or figure out where to go on your own, Daenerys Stormborn. The choice is yours."
Dany stood up as well and, now that she had eaten at least something, she felt much better. The sun was setting and she was no longer anyone. She was just a young woman with a dragon and a broken heart now. "One moment," she said, and turned around to approach Drogon. He.. who had brought her here... as though he had known that this witch would stumble upon them. The pieces fell into place with an uncanny precision.
"Drogon," she whispered, and he lowered his head down to her. Affection gleamed in his orange reptilian eyes and she ran her hand over the hot scales of his snout. He was not just a dragon, a weapon of mass destruction and war. He was her son. He was her everything, the last loved one she had left in the world. Slowly, Daenerys leaned forward, pressing her body against his snout between his nostrils into a hug. She wanted to stay here forever with him, she wanted to cry, and then stay with him, live off wild game he hunted for them, and never look back to all the things she had lost, and those who had taken them from her.
Alas, she could not. Forwards was the only way to go. Reluctantly, she pulled away. "You're all that I have left, Drogon," she whispered and her hand lingered on him. "Take good care of yourself." If she needed him, he would come, She knew that. Her heart felt heavy when he took off, and she watched him disappear into the distance before turning back to Ygerna. The sun had almost set.
Daenerys forced herself to smile. "Let us ride for Pentos, then."