Chapter Fourteen

He struggled upright but trying to take a step forward made the mark ache again; behind him Drogon hissed dangerously. The Khaleesi kept a grip on his arm, and he saw her worried gaze, but did not know what to say to reassure her. He did not know what this was.

"Nahyan." He called, ignoring the dragons shifting closer to him. "Nahyan, no one will hurt you."

Something was happening here, and as the dragon's mark pulsed hard on his chest Jorah pressed the heel of his hand to it, trying to dull the pain as the boy's eyes peered at him from the platform above. He saw the fear in the boy's face, he could not see what was clutched in his hands but he suspected were the dragons not here the boy would have raced past him. And then the dragons started forward, their snarls terrifying.

"Go to him." He murmured to the Khaleesi, trying to prepare himself for what might follow.

The Khaleesi looked at him a long moment and then started up the stairs, the pain he had expected did not come as she drew closer to Nahyan, not until she touched the boy. Then it exploded and Jorah fought with all he had to stay upright, when she tried to bring the boy towards him Jorah hit his knees.

"Don't touch him." He murmured, though it came out more like a plea.

He didn't know what was happening to him, but he had a feeling the dragons recognized something they didn't, they didn't want Nahyan here and Jorah feared they might do something to him; but they wouldn't harm their mother.

Jorah did not understand why this was happening, unless being here had changed something within the boy, or perhaps within him. They had travelled together for several days, Nahyan had been close to both of them at different times. Had the dull aches he felt not been warnings of danger or the Khaleesi's dreams at all? Had something within him sensed the boy was different?

Steeling his nerves, he dragged himself up a few more steps, it hurt, but as long as the Khaleesi did not touch the boy, he could make a little progress. He crawled over bones, shoved aside for new offerings, and finally made it to the platform; though he could barely breathe.

"Why must the khal's sons come here?" He asked, surveying the large round platform, here there was even more death.

"I must make a blade of bone and take blackened stone to mark me, then my magic will rise, and I will protect my people." Nahyan told him, eyeing him nervously. "Why are you hurting?"

"How will you protect your people?" His mind raced back to their time over the coast and the men who guarded the huts, their skin covered in ash and as the boy shifted, he saw a dark patch on his hand; it was not ash.

"My spells will bind my enemies and they will not attack; my magic will be stronger because my bone blade will be tied to this place; tied tighter than theirs." The boy told him and now held out his hand. "With every spell the smoke will cover me, it will strengthen me, and my enemies will fear my magic."

Jorah sighed as the dragons hissed behind him and he heard a soft sound from the Khaleesi. He understood now why the men who guarded the huts when they flew over did not carry weapons, and why they trembled; their magic had not touched the dragons.

"What is the cost of your magic? How many will die to protect your villages?" The Khaleesi demanded, anger in her voice and he saw her eyes slide across the platform.

But he had already looked, it was not just the people here who used this place, people came from Asshai as well, he saw the masked dead. He saw the bones, only a spot in the middle of the platform was left empty.

"There must be a sacrifice, and sometimes it is a great one." Nahyan murmured, but his words were drowned out by Drogon's roar of anger.

"Children?" He saw the disgust in her eyes.

"A child has the strongest life force, a girl's stronger than a boy's because she can bear more into life." The boy whispered and Jorah saw the look in her eyes harden; he'd seen that look before. And he wished the boy had stopped there, he wished the boy did not sound proud of himself. "I made my first sacrifice five seasons ago, I stopped the great sky from washing us away; my sister was glad to…."

"Khaleesi!" He called her attention to him, willing Nahyan to stop; fighting against the pain that exploded through him. Jorah switched to the common tongue as he saw the fire in her eyes, the gentleness she had viewed the boy with was gone. "Khaleesi he is a child doing what he has been taught, what he has been taught is right."

"It is not right." She spat back, and her dragons made rumbles of approval at that; he knew they sensed her thoughts. And she was moving towards him. "I used blood magic because it was the only way I had been told of, because I had to return dragons to this world; but that witch was not innocent. I wanted her dead, the dragons wanted her dead; they want him dead now."

"He is a boy." Jorah pleaded, he knew what she intended, and he would not let her do it. "How will they ever change if no one shows them?"

"Do not tell me a mother does not know this is wrong." Her eyes swept across the platform and he saw the hate in her face. "They have seen my dragons; they cannot believe this is right."

Jorah did not say a word, instead he loosened the ties on his shirt, letting it fall open to reveal the dragon that flew across his chest; he spoke in Dothraki now. "Come here boy."

Pain flared through his chest and spots dotted his vision, but the boy stopped six feet from him; mouth open and round as he stared. "Nahyan the dragons brought me back to life, and they did not demand the murder of another to do it. Leave this place and take nothing with you, if you do not; I don't know that I can stop the dragons."

And he wasn't sure his Queen would. Jorah watched the boy decide, staring at him for several moments longer before throwing his prizes aside and running; the dragons growled but did not chase him with flames. He knew full well the boy would find somewhere to hide and come back once they left, but he could not bear to be near him much longer; and he did not want to watch a child burn. No matter what he'd done. As the boy fled the dragon's mark eased on his chest until it was only a dull ache; but it did not stop.

…

She stared after the boy, anger pumping through her veins but she did not contradict him; the strength of her reaction had caught her off guard. Instead she turned to look at the mark she had not seen for weeks now, it had changed she thought; it looked like it belonged on him now. And Daenerys drew closer, wanting to touch it, wanting to hold him for a moment.

When he collapsed, she had truly feared she was losing him again; but then her dragons moved to protect him. To protect him even from her and she frowned, she had been able to approach Nahyan, to touch the boy and bring him into her side; thinking to protect him from her children even as he held the tools he would use to kill. But Jorah could not get near him without pain.

Jorah's pain became unbearable when she touched him and she realized it was not because of her magic, or the boy's; there was something powerful within him. Fierce and strong, when she offered her protection to a boy washed in blood magic it tried to claw its way out of her friend; it made it impossible for him to draw close. Was it from the mark? Or was it something he had always held?

He'd bound the witch to the pyre that hatched her dragons, but he had not done so eagerly; and the witch had deserved to die. Perhaps it was not how dragons were meant to come into the world, but she had known no other way; in truth that day she had not wanted another way. That witch had stolen her husband and her son, their deaths had to mean something; it could not go unpunished.

But the dragons were showing her another way, in her dreams and the instincts that were awakening within her; those instincts had demanded the boy be punished. Had the dragons wanted to kill Nahyan all this time? Did that mean there was a battle within the powers of magic?

Jorah's hand covered hers, gently nudging it from his chest so he could fix his shirt; blue eyes fixed on hers. "Your heart is too gentle to kill a boy brainwashed by what he has been taught; he will not forget you or the mercy shown him today."

"I hope not, because I fear there will be a day when I must destroy all magic of that kind." Had she discovered the magic that destroyed Old Valyria and brought the doom? Magic that crippled the guardians and relied upon death could not lead to anything good; but she knew the hope it could offer to a desperate heart.

Blood magic was dangerous, and that danger relegated it to a topic of whispers and desperation. To some it was one final chance, to others it was power or gain but at such a high cost. A life every time, at least one and sometimes more, perhaps it didn't seem so bad; it was thought to be used rarely. Until one stared at generations of it.

How many had lost their lives in this place alone? How many had been children told legends of power? How many had been slaves with no choice at all? And even more came to take the stones of this place, the bones, to harness power its to take with them; who knew how many lives those men took.

Yet looking around this place she wondered how many had been here before them, looting what was left and leaving the offerings for their magic behind. Anything of value had been taken many years ago, perhaps it had been guardians who came here, or the dragon's heart, taking the powers that bound the dragons to the Valyrians with them. Either way the Valyrians had come, and they had destroyed this city with dragon fire, anything to do with the dragon's power would have been stolen. And then lost in the doom.

"There is something here Khaleesi, something powerful." Jorah murmured beside her, but she saw his gaze roving over the place as hers did.

He looked exhausted, his face was still pale and blue eyes had a hollow look; he'd spent so much energy as his power warred within him. She wanted to be away from this place, in truth something deep within her wanted to burn it until nothing but scorched earth remained; and at that thought Drogon nudged her hand. As she lay her palm on his snout she felt the fire within him, it radiated through her like a spark; and she saw longing in her dragon's eyes.

"Let's camp away from here tonight and return tomorrow. I cannot bear to be here any longer today." And he was right, there was something powerful here, they both needed rest before they faced it.

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A/N: Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed, side note, I have no intention of turning Jorah into a dragon.