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CHAPTER 3 - Revelations
Months had passed since Daenerys came back to the world of the living. Her pregnancy was already evident to everybody, although for the sake of her unborn child and her own, she did her best to hide it from most people. Since she felt she had been defeated, and under the Dothraki tradition, she cut her hair, and undid her braids. She would not sport them anymore as trophies, not unless she would earn them again.
She still lived in Volantis, but Kinvara had asked her to maintain a low profile and remain close to her. Daenerys was now living in a small cottage in the gardens of the Red Temple of Volantis, with very few people who would have access to see her. Only Kinvara, Daario were allowed close to her. She was always guarded by the Second Sons; Daario had insisted that she would never be unguarded again. Most of the time, he was her personal bodyguard, but he had assigned his most loyal Lieutenant to guard her in his absence, while he was looking for Jon Snow.
What Daenerys had most now was time. Time to reflect, time to imagine, time to plan. Every time she had remembered what she did while she was riding Drogon, her heart would race and her breath would come in gasps. She couldn't remember the moment perfectly clear, but in her dreams she would revive them again, but this time she would see everything in third person, as a Kings Landing citizen, watching her parents burn alive, her children, herself… She would hear the screams of people in panic, people yelling names trying to find their loved ones in the middle of chaos, the sound of people being crushed to death in a human avalanche, trying to flee danger. The sound of women being raped by soldiers, swords piercing flesh, and on top of all, the shrieks of a monstrous beast burning everything in its path, commanded by a ghost.
She would always wake up sweating, breathing with difficulty. She would calm down and caress her womb, making the child within her calm too. The creature would kick and move inside her, so she'd tenderly caress her belly and immediately would feel how the movement ceased.
She knew these nightmares would torment her until the day she'd die, and she never complained, she figured it was a very small price to pay for the horrors she had caused.
Daenerys was incredibly lonely. Daario was her only companion, and with him gone, all she had was sells words guarding her, and the priests and priestess of the temple who were like monks. Lots of them were mute, or had taken a vow of silence, and would wander around the temple and its gardens without even looking at her. She had her every need covered, she had people bring her all the meals, prepare her baths, give her clothing. But distrust was the base of all the cares she received. Daario had insisted that one of his guards must taste the food before she would actually eat it. She had protested, but in the end gave in.
Daenerys had fallen in a dull, but peaceful routine while she was staying in the Red Temple. She would begin her day with a long, hot bath, would eat her food, walk around the gardens which were starting to annoy her because by now she knew them by heart, have lunch, meditate alone in her chambers, and finally end her day with supper and then back to her house. She had no one to talk to. Kinvara would rarely visit her, and when she did, she was more concerned with the wellbeing of the child than of her. Almost the entire conversation, quick as it was, revolved around the unborn child of Daenerys and Jon. Dany again didn't protest, she should be dead if it wasn't for her child.
A Targaryen alone is a terrible thing– she said to herself, and smiled. She knew she wasn't really alone; she wasn't the only or last Targaryen. Even if Jon Snow died, she would have her baby, who would be a Targaryen. She still couldn't believe how she was pregnant, after what Mirri Maz Duur had told her. She had been many times with Daario before Jon and not once she had the fear of being with child, or even considered the possibility. Then with Jon, she had actually told him she couldn't bear a child, and all the times they were together, the possibility of a pregnancy never once crossed her mind. – "It must be something to do with Targaryen blood" – she thought, for her, there was no other explanation.
Daenerys strolled the gardens, wandering, lost in her thoughts. She was her only companion now, and she had come to terms that she would have to face the consequences of her acts soon, but at the same time, she refused to be an exiled, forgotten woman who had struggled her life to recover her birthright, only to lose it and never trying again. And worse yet, to be a coward who decided to hide herself back in Essos and spend the rest of her days in solitude and oblivion.
"The mother of Dragons, Daenerys Stormborn, the last of House Targaryen, the rightful heir to the throne, the unburnt, forgotten…"-she whispered to herself. She felt some pity for herself. Not long ago, she was the most feared person in Westeros. She wasn't loved, and the gods knew she craved for the love she had felt by all the people she had liberated, but she only felt that in Essos, never in Westeros. Either way, everybody had their eyes on her. Everybody knew that the daughter of Aerys Targaryen had returned to claim the throne that Robert Baratheon had stolen from the Targaryen dynasty. Everybody talked about how she had somehow brought 3 dragons with her, even though in the end she only had one, more than enough to put the entire kingdom on their knees begging for mercy.
Her old self would try to suffocate her now and then, begging her to leave that awful self-imprisonment, to call back Drogon, call her unsullied, her Dothrakis, and take Westeros once again, only this time doing things differently, smarter, wiser, and definitely not murdering innocents alive. She had worked her entire life so hard for the throne, and now that she had to give it up entirely made her entire core shake and furiously protest. Part of her wanted to banish the Starks for betraying her. After all, she had saved them in the Long Night. Had she not agreed to help Jon Snow, they would all be dead, including Cersei and the entire population of Westeros. She could have refused and stay in Dragonstone to wait for the storm to pass, like Cersei did. She could have watched every man, woman and child fall under the Wights and White Walkers blades, see them joining their army, and take over Kings Landing. After everybody would be dead, she could have figured out a way to destroy the Night King and rule the entire Kingdom without a problem. - "but If they all would be dead, what is there for me to rule?"she asked herself. The moment she had vowed to help Jon Snow, had been the moment to seal her doom. She lost Viseryon, Rhaegal, Jorah and Missandei in this war. She had lost Tyrion as well, even though he is alive, at least as far as she knew. She had lost Varys. Yara Greyjoy lost her brother.
"I wish I could do things differently, go back in time and do things differently" – she told herself. But she knew she couldn't. The only person who could go back in time was The Three Eyed Raven, and it was him who had made her act the way she did. It was him who had played her, Jon, the Starks, everybody and make them all turn against her, and she go insane with insecurity, fear and hatred.
She had no idea how things ended up in Westeros. She knew Bran Stark was King, which seemed so strange and yet made so much sense after everything she had thought happened in Westeros. But what happened to the people who survived the attack in Kings Landing? What happened to her loyal vassals? Yara Greyjoy, the Martells in the south… she was sure everybody else was loyal to Jon Snow.
As she kept walking aimlessly, a voice shouted loud, and another replied.
-"They're here!Shouted a large man on the lookout post – "Prepare the horses" – replied another one. Daenerys climbed some stairs to the top of the gardens, to a terrace that had a perfect view of Volantis pier, and saw Daario's ship docking. Her heart stopped for a second.
Jon Snow– she murmured. She didn't know how she would receive him. She could receive him as the traitor he was, order her soldiers to put him in chains and shove him inside a dark, damp dungeon until she knew what to do with him.
Or she could send the Lord of Light to the seven hells, and have a public execution in Mereen, for everybody to see what happens when you betray The Mother of Dragons.
She watched the men descend the vessel, and she could distinguish Daario very easily. He knew exactly where to look to see if Dany was waiting for him. He must have spotted her, for he raised her arm to greet her. She smiled.
-Your Grace – Kinvara approached Daenerys and grabbed her in the arm. Dany gasped in surprise.
- I'm sorry to have frightened you. You are needed in the main hall of temple. We need to start preparing ourselves for the great war. Come.
Daenerys looked to the pier again but all she saw were soldiers, she never saw Jon. Maybe he was dead? Maybe he wasn't found? She protested but Kinvara didn't even cared to hear her opinion, she simply took her to the Main Hall.
He couldn't bear the stench of humidity, salt and his own clothes another minute. Jon had been abducted many days ago, and not once he had the chance to refresh himself. In the cellar he was held, they just gave him a bucket to empty his vowels and piss, and the smell had penetrated into his nostrils and stayed in his brain. All he smelled was shit, piss, sweat, rotten planks and salt.
When he finally felt the ship docking, a sense of relief came over him. Wherever the hell he was, couldn't be worse than that damn ship. Even if he was to be executed as soon as he set foot in that place.
He heard the footsteps of the soldiers above moving things, unloading crates, disembarking in general.
His guard took his sword, walked behind Jon, grabbed him by the arm and pushed him, indicating him to walk. Jon walked and climbed the stairs, the light was blinding him. He hadn't seen daylight in… he had no idea how much time had passed since he was taken, since he fought Daario, and now... must be days, weeks perhaps.
He raised his hand to cover his eyes from sunlight, and saw the Captain of the Second Sons standing in the pier, waving at somebody in the top of a large fortress, that had a massive fire in the very top of the edification. He raised to see who he was waiving, perhaps that was the person who had hired these thugs to kidnap him. He didn't see anybody, just the shadow of a woman that was moving.
Then he began to look his surroundings, and didn't see anything that would strike him as familiar. He already deduced he was taken across the Narrow Sea, but he had no idea to which part exactly. He had learned in Maester Luwin's lessons about Essos, the continent across the Narrow Sea. He knew about Braavos, Pentos, Myr, Volantis, part of the called "Free cities". He had also heard about Slavers Bay, the place where Daenerys had dedicated her efforts and life to abolish slavery before deciding to go to Westeros. He knew the Dothrakis had enormous grounds to ride, to pillage small villages. But he had never seen any of those places, only heard about the Giant Guardian of Braavos. And he saw no giant, so he assumed he was not in Braavos.
-Where are we? -He asked a soldier. He smiled and pushed him harder, making Jon trip and fall on the deck of the ship. Men laughed, Daario turned to see.
-Ah. So, here we are. Welcome to Volantis, Jon Snow. – Daario revealed.
-Volantis? -He repeated.
-Yes, Volantis. Now, if you'll follow me please, we are expected.
-What are you going to do with me?
-Don't you get tired to ask the same questions? I already told you: I don't know. I'm a courier, I've brought you here, and my task was to bring you unharmed, which you are, well mostly. -Daario mocked, touched Jon's cheekbone which was swollen and purple from their fight. Jon shoved Daario's hand away disgusted.
Jon and Daario began to walk, almost side by side, Daario a few steps ahead leading the way and Jon following. A small platoon of Second Sons followed them closely, and when people in the streets of the busy city would see them, they would bow very discretely, lower their gazes and move to make way. Jon noticed this and understood The Second Sons were respected, and feared.
-Well, Jon Snow, what are you afraid of? -Daario asked him breaking the awkward silence of the long walk.
-What? Jon replied confused.
- "You heard me, what are you afraid of?" I'm afraid of old age.
Jon didn't reply.
- "Some people think it's a blessing to reach old age and die of it. I don't. I can't think of something more humiliating than not being able to even empty your own chamber pot without somebody holding you to stand steady. An age and state where you would piss and shit in your own bed like you were a baby again. No, not for me. When I go, I want it to be in a blaze of glory, fighting, or in the arms of the woman I love." – he said.
Jon still didn't reply.
-Well?
- "I'm afraid I've made a terrible mistake" – Jon said.
Daario stopped and turned his head back to see Jon. His expression was of sorrow, confusion, pain. Daario knew exactly what Jon was talking about, and a mixture of jealousy and compassion took over him. He knew he was talking about the woman him and Jon had loved, that he still loved, but Jon had murdered her, betrayed her, cowardly. But he could also see the inner conflict Jon had with this. He could tell he still mourned her, and quite possibly, still loved her.
Daario didn't say a word and signaled his soldiers to keep walking.
Jon sighed, and resumed his march as well.
They reached the entrance of a huge building, it was nothing like he had seen before. It looked like a castle, a fortress, but the decoration suggested it wasn't a Lord's bastion, but something else. The enormous fire on top of the building was more intense as they approached, and the large pillars that supported the structure were impressing, with intricate decorations carved on stone, as if a story was being told through those carvings.
In the center of the building, right below the entrance, he could see the imposing seal of what seemed to be the heart of the entire place: a heart in flames. A human heart. Jon frowned, he knew that symbol wasn't new, that he had seen it somewhere before. And then he remembered, he actually had. It was in Stannis Baratheon's banners. His banner was the exact same burning heart, but with the Baratheon sigil inside, a crowned stag. Then he understood. This must be a temple of the Lord of Light. Stannis was devoted to the Lord beyond the Narrow Sea, and Melissandre, the Red Woman as Ser Davos would call her, was a priestess of that order. In fact, she had brought him back to life with the powers given by this deity.
A man hit him hard in the back, Jon had stopped to see the symbol of the Lord of Light for a few seconds, and the soldiers taking him inside reminded him he had to keep walking unless he was told otherwise.
They entered the building, crossed some halls, and made it to the main hall. The sun was setting and the light was more and more dim, the light came from the torches lit inside and some fire pits that were placed in some corners. When he entered, it reminded him of Dragonstone's main hall, when he had seen Dany for the first time. His heart ached and his body trembled with that memory.
In the middle of the hall was a large fire pit, torches were placed in every pillar, and in the corners some more fire pits, smaller than the one in the middle. In front of him, there were stairs that were leading to a kind of throne. A throne that had the shape of the burning heart he had seen. Nobody sat in it. In fact, there was nobody in that hall. As soon as he entered, Daario commanded his soldiers to wait outside, closed the doors and walked to the foot of the stairs, and if he was waiting for commands.
-I've been expecting you – a voice said.
-Who's that? Asked Jon
-Oh we haven't met, rest assured. - Replied the female voice, it came from a far corner behind the stars of the throne. A slim, tall silhouette appeared clearer. Jon adjusted his eyes to the new light and could tell this was a Red Priestess. Her clothing was almost identical to Melissandre's. She was also wearing a peculiar necklace that made a contrast with her very pale skin.
He looked into her eyes and saw her. Pale skin, he's never seen eyes as green as hers. Her lips were rather thin, and her hair was tied in a know, red hair. The same shade Ygritte had. He smiled.
-Who are you? – asked Jon
-My name is Kinvara, I'm the High Priestess of this temple. Welcome to the Red Temple, and to Volantis, Jon Snow.
-Are you the one you sent these men to bring me here?
-Yes, and no.
-Explain yourself.
Kinvara smiled, she found Jon impetuosity amusing.
-Yes, because I said the words. No, because it's not my command. I'm only a messenger.
-If it's not your command, then who gave the order?
-The Lord of Light.
Jon sneered. This angered Kinvara.
-Jon Snow, may I ask you something?
-Can I say no?
-When that boy sunk that blade into your heart, in presence of all your sworn brothers, what did you feel?
How the bloody hell does she know about that?– he asked himself.
Kinvara's eyes were looking straight at his. He didn't dare to look away, and he felt uneasy to have her eyes fixed relentelsy on his own.
-Pain. Surprise. Then, nothing.
-When you were dead, what did you see? What did you feel?
-I saw nothing. Felt nothing.
-Do you dare to say there is nothing after this life?
-I don't know, but I didn't see nothing.
-When you came back to life, what was your first thought, your first feeling?
-I was shocked. Angry. Bitter. I felt betrayed. I wanted justice.
-And you had it. You hanged all the mutineers. Spared nobody, not even that young boy, the one who performed de coup de grace.
-No.
-Why not?
-Because they betrayed their Lord Commander.
-Ah. - Kinvara smiled, and turned back to see the flames.
Jon was puzzled. What's the point of all those questions? He supposed that Kinvara somehow met Melissandre and she had told him about his miraculous return to life.
-Why do you think you are here, Jon Snow? Kinvara asked while she continued seeing the flames.
-I don't know.
-Yes, you do. Say it.
-I'm here to be executed.
-For what?
-For treason.
-What kind of treason?
-I murdered the Queen.
-What Queen?
-Daenerys Targaryen.
A moment of silence.
-Following the same logic on how you acted, it's correct. You murdered Daenerys Targaryen even though you pledged allegiance to her. You committed treason, just like those men betrayed you and murdered you. You executed them, you said it yourself they deserved no mercy, not even the young boy. So you believe that you shall be judged by your same moral code.
Jon clenched his teeth, he braced his inner self, knowing this was his end.
-However,…. Kinvara turned to see him.
-You are not here to be executed.
Jon frowned, his expression was puzzled.
-If not, what am I here for? Why would anybody take the bother to find me, abduct me, and bring me to this continent? I have no debts here.
-Oh but you do. You have an enormous debt.
-With who?
-The Lord of Light. You owe Him your life.
Jon was silent.
-And you shall repay him. That is why you are here now.
Jon was not following this strange woman.
-My purpose was fulfilled. I gathered the armies to fight the Night King, and he was defeated. Not by my blade, by my sister's, but my whole purpose was to save everybody from the Long Night, and we did it. We won.
-No. That was not your purpose. That was your sister's purpose. Even though she had never had the need to be brought back to life, some men were specifically brought back to protect her and help her do it. Your sister's fate was to defeat death. Yours wasn't.
Jon chuckled, in a way he felt insulted. The gods knew he loved Arya more than any of his brothers or sisters, but he felt disrespected. He commanded the army. He gathered such army, he convinced Daenerys to forge an alliance with him. If it wasn't for him, they'd all be dead. "But it's true, I didn't kill the Night king. It was Arya. I helped. She did it."– his inner self said.
-So what is my purpose? He asked.
-I can't tell you.
-Jon once again sneered.
-But I can show you. - Kinvara stretched her hand, inviting him to join her.
Jon looked at Daario who was standing like a statue all along. He moved his head towards Kinvara to tell him to go to her. Jon obeyed.
He stood next to her. –Look into the flames, Jon Snow, what do you see? -
I see nothing but the flames dancing in front of me.
-Keep looking, focus. What do you see?
Jon was losing his patience. Then, he began to see shaped in the flames. He frowned, and focused on what he was seeing. He felt the same angst he felt when he was reviving.
-I see chains…
-What else?
-I see a large sword, being covered in chains, fighting desperately to cut them all, but with each chain, two more are born… armies clashing, brother against brother, lover against lover… chaos, madness… I see the silhouette of a person, forming from ashes… taking that sword…
Jon gasped. His breathing came in small gasps, what he had seen was terrifying.
-Now you know, Jon Snow, why you have been brought here.
-I don't understand…. What is the meaning of what I saw? What part do I play in all this? He asked.
-You have a very important part to play, along with another.
-Another? Jon mumbled. Who? He asked.
As he said who, he hard soft, very soft steps approaching him, then stopped. He felt the hairs of the back of his neck stand. His heart smashed against his frame, his stomach felt a knot, his knees were weak, and his hand started to tremble. He didn't need to turn back to know who was behind him. He felt her. He knew the sound of her steps, the sound of her breathing. He smelled the unequivocal scent she had. But it was impossible.
Jon closed his eyes and turned back, very softly. He opened his eyes, and gasped. A ghost was standing before him.
Daenerys Targaryen, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, the Unburnt, Breaker of Chains, Mother of Dragons stood in front of him. She looked differently from how he remembered her. Her hair was shorter, her braids were undone, and she looked a bit more robust. But her same purple eyes, her same porcelain skin, her pink full lips, it was all there. She was wearing a massive dark blue cloak that covered her entire body, he could only see her head and neck.
Jon had no idea what kind of expression he had in his face, but her expression was blank. He couldn't see anything from her. Not hate. Not revenge. Not resentment. Nothing. Her eyes stared at him, digging into his very soul. He felt those eyes as two burning fireballs being shot at him. He couldn't bear it. He lowered his gaze and closed his eyes.
-This isn't real. This isn't happening – he said.
-You are not the only one who has returned from the dead, Jon Snow – Daenerys said coldly. Her voice was also as he remembered. Only this time, her tone was indifferent.
Jon lifted up and understood. When Drogon had taken her after he had done the deed, he always wondered where he had taken her body. Now he knew where he flew with her, and what happened to her.
Jon didn't notice what he was doing but in a dream kind of state, took a few steps and lifted his hand as if to reach for her, to touch her hair. Daenerys pupils dilated and she moved back softly. Before he knew it, he felt a sharp pain in his side. Daario, out of nowhere, had struck him in his ribs, making him flinching in pain.
-You will never lay a finger on her again, Jon Snow – said Daario.
Daenerys lifted her gaze to Daario, frowning and not agreeing to what happened. Daario looked at her defiantly, he did not apologize for what he had just done.
Jon chuckled, recovering from the pain, he reincorporated, took a few steps back and stood where he initially was.
Jon understood how the situation had changed. Daenerys was there, alive, standing in front of him, but she was another woman, not the one he had known. She felt nothing for him. He would never touch her again. They were to join forces for the greater good, whatever that may be, but that's it.
-Now that you have seen each other again, let me explain a little further, Jon Snow. The true enemy, the one you saw in the flames, is none other than Bran Stark. – Kinvara said as the flames reflected in her emerald eyes.
Jon laughed, looked at everybody and just said - "Bran? Enemy?" -he kept laughing.
Kinvara, Daenerys and Daario looked at him serious and grave.
Jon finished laughing and said - "This is ridiculous."
-The Three Eyed Raven set in motion everything that brought the downfall of Daenerys, your own disgrace Jon, and after killing the Night King, he set the path free to govern among people's minds and will.
Jon was silent. His face had a grimace that showed annoyance and disbelief.
Think for a moment. His powers are growing out of control, and so is his desire for an idealistic mankind, what he thinks is good. He plants thoughts in people's minds, doubts, fears, and they blossom into hate. He made Daenerys lose control of the situation and made her do the atrocity she did in Kings Landing. She made her prey of ambition, insecurity.
Daenerys lowered her gaze. Jon noticed and it was the first time he had seen her like that, ashamed and defeated.
-I… This is insane. – replied Jon.
-It's very late, and I believe her Grace is tired. We will resume this meeting in the morning. There are quarters arranged for you, Jon Snow. You'll understand of course that until we don't fully trust you, you will remain under vigilance.
Jon sighed.
-I wish to speak to her Grace, if I may –Jon said.
Daenerys looked again at him, intently. He met her gaze, and this time, he didn't lower it.
-I don't think so – Daario replied, ready to take him to his quarters.
-Let him – Dany waved at him.
Daario was furious. - Very well, but I will stand in the corner of the room with my dagger in my hand. If he tries to touch you, I will aim to his head, and I doubt the Lord of Light will take the trouble to bring him back again. - Daario was serious.
Dany smiled, and nodded. Daario gave Jon one last look, warning him that he was not joking.
Daenerys was awfully quiet. She stood there and waited for Jon to speak, but words wouldn't come out of his mouth.
-I…. – Jon began trying to speak.
Daenerys raised an eyebrow.
-I'm so sorry…. – he said, as tears began flooding his eyes.
Daenerys was pinching her own leg to shove her tears back into her eyes. The Gods knew she was still in love with this man, despite of everything that has happened. And she felt her child jump inside her womb, as if the voice of the father had startled the baby. Daenerys involuntarily shook, and Jon noticed.
-Are you all right? – he asked
Daenerys nodded.
-Well? Are you going to say anything to me? - He asked, his voice dripping remorse and shame.
-There is nothing to be said, Jon Snow. You are here for a greater purpose, as am I.
-I never… I didn't… -Jon began trying to form a thought, very ineptly.
-Stop. It's all useless now. What is done, it's done.
Jon frowned, he was frustrated, sad, thrilled to see her live but he felt his honor was lost forever.
-If you don't mind, please tell me what is my role in all this. – Jon asked, changing his tone to a more formal one. Daenerys noticed, and her heart sunk. She was trying with all her strength to restrain herself from hugging him, kissing him senseless. Their love had been her doom, and this time she was adamant in not letting anything get in her way to accomplish her mission, not even him.
Daenerys lowered her gaze, and began undoing the laces of her gown. Jon looked at her, he didn't understand what she was doing.
She undid the last lace of her dress, letting it fall in the ground, revealing her completely naked body in front of him.
Jon´s breathing stopped. His heart dropped to the very minimum. Jon dropped to his knees when he saw her.
He saw her white, porcelain body, but it wasn't the same body he remembered taking several times in the time they were together. He saw the stab wound right below her breast, a deep, clean but deadly wound. But what had caused him a huge impact, was her womb. It was a full womb. Her breasts were also larger, and overall, she seemed to glow. Daenerys was expecting, and he immediately knew the child was his.