. . .

(14) Daenerys I

. . .

The small khalassar's journey from Qarth was radically different from their journey to it, for all that it passed over the familiar desolation of the Red Waste. On a cool, cloudy day, they took the not-so-creatively named Sand Road ran north of the city, back out the very triple-gates they had once entered through. For a time, Daenerys and her people were retracing old steps, right up until the road split with one well-traveled fork turning slightly east and the other, less well traveled, slightly west.

These were no dragon roads of ancient Valyria, level and unnaturally straight and smooth, but a more mundane path of dark stones that flanked the road to left and right with whitish-grey stones in-between. These roads, it was said, had been built by the ancient Qaathi, and they maintained them still, including the posting of small markers for every Qartheen league (exactly 10,000 feet, versus the more common Valyrian league, which was 14,000 feet).

Just as Daenerys found herself with more time to admire the roads and the land, so the trip itself was more comfortable for her people. There were no bodies left on the side of the road this time, no abandoned old men and weeping women left to the red wolves and the jackals. Her people ate and drank every morning and every night, and they did so because their khaleesi at last had the means to care for them as they deserved.

This time, Daenerys Targaryen traveled in a secure and well provisioned convoy, alongside a group of other merchants who opted to take the trip with her. Ox-drawn carts pulled ample provisions for the journey, gathered from marketplaces and dockyard wholesalers. There was fodder for beasts, shaped wood for repairs, and all the things her people needed for survival besides: bread, both barley and wheat, meat in the form of dried fish and salted mutton common to this part of Essos, good cheese, vegetables, especially legumes (chickpeas, lentils, soybeans), oil of course, and salt and vinegar… and wine.

They had wagons of provisions, and now, men whose job it was to oversee them and to ensure that no man, woman or child went hungry or thirsty. As per Lady Lin's insistence, these men-of-numbers kept records in duplicate form, withdrawals and receipts, to ensure no theft or misuse of the dragon's provisions. It was a system that Jorah had remarked upon as being quite clever, as in his experience, corruption among even a small army's quartermasters was quite common.

They were no army, in truth, but as Lady Lin had explained, it was wise for a young King or Queen to understand numbers and management. The Usurper had driven the Seven Kingdoms into bankruptcy, and upon being told this, Dany had sworn to do just the opposite and save it from mismanagement. Spurred by her advisor, Daenerys herself took time to look over the written reports and oversee the system they had put in place.

The first night she had done so, Daenerys recalled being quite excited and feeling very much like Aegon himself must have when he moved his troops across Westeros to build the Seven Kingdoms. After several nights, however, the numbers had begun to run together in her head. She understood how important it was that a horse could carry roughly 200 pounds such and such a distance, but that it also needed to eat 20 pounds of fodder a day. She understood how important it was that every person, dependent on age and weight, needed to eat so much of this or that, and drink as well, but numbers… honestly, numbers did not quite come as easily to her as letters.

"You don't need to enjoy it. You only need to be familiar with it, and to understand it, if needs be," Lady Lin had insisted one night, as they sat amid pillows in Daenerys' comfortable tent, attended by Irri and Jhiqui. "Among my people, literacy is universal, from the highest to the lowest, from the rich to the poor, and knowledge of mathematical principles is essential to good governance. A leader with no understanding of deductive and inductive reasoning is one unworthy to rule, regardless of blood."

Daenerys rarely felt the need to indulge others, not like when she was younger, not like before Drogo, but Lady Lin was the greatest font of wisdom in her life. She was wise and learned, and kind; she had saved many lives, and now some of those she had saved, like Doreah, were going to be mothers and fathers themselves. When she spoke praise, Dany felt as if it were truly genuine, and not just flattery, for Lin only really praised those who accomplished something.

This, though the Yitish woman was herself a mystery in many ways…

No doubt Viserys would have grown sick of the lecturing and either demanded she begone… or sleep with him in exchange for his forbearance. Daenerys was resolved to be better: to be a better person and to be a better leader. She would listen and she would learn, even if it was not as entertaining as other pursuits.

Happily, the work never lasted too long into the night, and one particularly dark night Lin smiled and took them outside: Daenerys, Irri and Jhiqui all. This was a time Dany always looked forward to. If they worked hard, then Lady Lin never failed to reward them with some fascinating tale or little bit of magic, or strange foreign treat, though she always assured them it was no magic.

That night, Lady Lin gifted them with sheets of fine, firm paper, and taught them to fold them into shapes: little horses and cranes, but most delightful of all, she taught them how to make paper birds that could glide through the air. As night grew dark around them and the full moon lit up the sky, Lin then showed them how to make a lantern with paper, and by attaching a small metal cup with a flame, cause the lanterns to rise into the sky.

Daenerys and Irri made theirs, though Jhiqui became apprehensive when Lin told them what it would do. Soon, though, they had three made, and launched them skywards, much to the surprise and astonishment of many of the merchant convoy. Others, who had been to Yi Ti during festivals, no doubt took advantage of the moment to lecture their less well traveled and knowledgeable fellows and servants.

"With a larger lantern and a larger fire, could one fly?" Daenerys wondered aloud, watching the flying lanterns rise, to add their candle-light to the starry sky. It would be a pale imitation of dragon-flight, of course… but it would have some benefits as well.

"One could," Lady Lin replied, pleased by the question. "Paper would not be sufficient, however. A man and a basket weigh too much."

"And a more potent flame would be needed," Daenerys reasoned. Lady Lin had explained that hot air lifted itself and could carry things with it, both in theory and in practice. "Wildfire, maybe? Something that burns hotly but weighs little."

"To ride the air as one rides a horse?" Jhiqui asked, narrowing her almond eyes at the floating lanterns suspiciously. "Such a steed is not meant for men. It is known."

"My ancestors flew," Daenerys reminded her.

"For normal men," Jhiqui amended herself. "Khaleesi. You and yours are not normal men."

It was true and being reminded of it swelled her chest with pride, but there was a tiny sting to it as well. She was the daughter of Aerys and the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, but she was also a human being and a woman, with all the needs of a woman and a human being. She did not and would not reject her birthright, but of late, it came with a certain isolation and loneliness. It was a feeling easy to ignore during the day when she kept busy, but at night… at night, in the silks of her tent, it weighed on her spirit, and Irri was no replacement for her Sun and Stars.

The truth was, that since leaving Qarth and setting upon the vast emptiness of the Red Waste, the loneliness had only grown worse. It didn't help that even her handmaids seemed to be distancing themselves from her. They served her ably - even a little slavishly Dany could admit in the privacy of her own head - but she couldn't call them her friends like they had once been, under the protection of Khal Drogo. Becoming the Mother of Dragons had cemented it.

To them, to many, she was something… more than human… an object of worship almost. Yet what statue of a goddess yearned for warm arms to hold her at night or companions to laugh with? Did being special just mean being alone?

"Not normal men," Daenerys repeated, little more than a whisper.

"Being normal is a little overrated, anyway," Lin commented, her eyes cast upwards. "And you'd be surprised what humans are capable of. One day… flying through the air may be more common than riding a horse."

Irri laughed at what she assumed to be a joke, and Jhiqui just shook her head, insisting it was nonsense. Yet Lady Lin seemed quite sure. Daenerys, for her part, kept quiet and watched the three.

They were her closest female companions, and of them, she found she could only truly call Lady Lin her friend. The wise woman did not bow or scrape, and though she was respectful enough, she could and often would correct Dany when she was wrong about something. She seemed to fear neither wroth nor lack of station. As inscrutable as she could often be, there was also much that was admirable about her. Yet she also kept herself aloof in many ways, often eating by herself and even turning away servants. Her past and her background were shrouded in mystery, a fact Daenerys often overlooked but never entirely forgot.

"Time for me to turn in for the night," Lady Lin finally said, putting up with Irri and Jhiqui with a motherly amusement. "I'll see you girls tomorrow."

"Sleep well, my Lady."

"Yes."

"Good-night," Daenerys remembered the phrase Lady Lin herself used, from time to time. She soon left, as was her way, on her own time and at her own accord. Irri and Jhiqui remained, as they always did, for Daenerys to dismiss them. To them, she would always be khaleesi, and it would always be their honor to be at her beck and call. Dany appreciated their devotion and love, but… but sometimes she did wish it was… something else.

"Jhiqui," she said softly, as they lounged on blankets outside her tent.

"Yes, Khaleesi?" Jhiqui was the more inquisitive of her handmaids, though also the more dogmatic. She enjoyed rumor and gossip more than Irri, and she was more prone to flirting with men, taking advantage of her more curvy physique. She would know certain things. And if she did not, then Doreah would, though Dany's Lysene handmaid was indisposed at the moment with her pregnancy.

"Has Lady Lin taken anyone to her tent?" Dany asked, quietly and with a little hesitation. It felt a bit wrong to pry, but it was just curiosity, she told herself. "Do you know?"

"It is known that she has not," Jhiqui answered, and sounded quite sure of herself. "Jhogo did offer himself several days ago, but she rebuffed him, as she has others."

Jhogo was the first of her bloodriders to pledge themselves to her, and he bore the silver-handled whip from her wedding. He was a handsome young man, though a bit severe and narrow-minded at times.

"Do you think she has someone special at home?" Dany asked aloud. It would explain some things.

"You should ask her, Khaleesi," Irri suggested. "Her ways are strange, but she is still a woman."

"A woman with no man," Jhiqui added. "And older than we. It is strange she has no children and no husband at three and thirty."

"She cannot be three and thirty," Irri argued. "I need only my eyes to tell me that. Two and twenty I would believe."

"I heard it."

"And I doubt it. Where did you hear it?"

The two went on for a time while Daenerys listened. Just asking made sense… but it was embarrassing trying to imagine that conversation. Perhaps in the future, if it somehow came up, or if she found a way to broach the topic that was not like to cause her face to burn off in shame. Any other woman, yes, she would just ask, but not this one.

"It is time for bed," she declared, and Irri and Jhiqui quickly bowed their heads. "Irri. You will be with me tonight."

"Yes, Khaleesi."

"As you wish, Khaleesi."

That night, as they retired to their tents, Dany pulled Irri into a closer embrace to keep out the desert chill. Using a handmaiden as a bedwarmer was hardly uncommon, and Irri did not snore as Jhiqui and Doreah occasionally did.

Holding her tight, Daenerys slipped off into sleep, images of snow-capped mountains, a pack of waiting wolves, and mysterious Strangers forming a half-remembered dream. Above it all, a strange shape cast a long, smooth shadow, like an arrowhead across the land, and everywhere she went, and in everything she saw, a three-eyed raven followed her.

. . .

The journey continued and Daenerys rode every day on horseback, as befitting her status as khaleesi (and eschewing a noble lady's wheel-house), but she was one of the very few. Many and more rode mules or especially camels, neither of which had been affected by the Dothraki Horse Plague. Leading the little khalassar, and the merchants who traveled with it, Dany had assumed a leadership role by both necessity and choice.

She dealt with disputes when they arose and she decided, with the help of her advisors, when and where to stop for the day and make camp. Jorah and her bloodriders were a great aid in this, giving her rule the muscle and experience it needed, even as her guard filled with young men and boys in training who had survived the previous year's hardships. It was a small realm to rule, but rule she felt she did. In time, Daenerys was certain that the experience would prove valuable. She had never had the education or experiences of a noble lady of her rank, tailored to raising up a woman who could adequately run a household. From the very beginning, then, she was at a disadvantage. Lady Lin's revealing just how poor her education in numbers had been was only an example of the handicaps she had to overcome.

It would not be enough to rule… she would have to rule well. She would never lead a khalassar into battle, except perhaps someday via dragonback, so it was imperative she excel in all other fields to compensate.

This was all good practice for when that time came.

"The paperwork in question, your Grace." Cirea, one of Lady Lin's trained 'secretaries' rose alongside Daenerys and offered a book of notes. This book was marked with indexes to indicate dates, making things easier to find.

Cirea was a slave-girl, literate and intelligent, purchased in Qarth specifically for this work. Like most Qartheen, enslaved or otherwise, she had milk-white skin and dark hair, and though her eyesight was poor (one reason she was for sale at all), Lady Lin had fashioned a metal frame to hold lenses up in front of her eyes, enabling her to see. These 'glasses' using hand-held frames were apparently known among the Maesters of Westeros, and the Valyrians knew to make and wear them as well, having invented the science. The Valyrians, however, preferred carved horn over metal rims. Lady Lin had in her possession one of these artifacts, but with darkened lenses, to keep out the sun. How clever the Ancients had been! And especially her ancestors!

"Thank you, Cirea," Daenerys said, and perused the book even as she rode, directing the horse with her thighs and small motions of the stirrups. "I see the section right here. Sir, is this not your signature?"

She held up the book and pointed to one of the entries.

"Ah. Yes. It is," the merchant, one Boros Beno Omaxis, was a trader in silks and silver. Like most Qartheen men, he was able to cry at will, and was doing so now. "But there was a spill, noble lady, fair Khaleesi. Surely such accidents cannot be held against us?"

"You signed for your rations, you received your rations, and then you lost your rations… but you failed to report losing them, making it impossible to tell if your version of events occurred, ten leagues behind us?" Daenerys asked, with a single arched eyebrow.

"We had an agreement…"

"We had a contract, and my people will fulfill it to the letter," Dany said, cutting the weeping man off. "Next time you lose your rations, come to us immediately to report it. I shouldn't have to remind you that these are the terms you agreed to when you came with us."

The merchant's tears evaporated as quickly as they appeared, and he frowned... frowned, but bowed his head. "We will be more careful in the future, then."

Dany dismissed the man with a wave of her hand. "I hope you will be."

She had been warned about this: that many of the merchants would test her and see if they could take some advantage of the caravan. She had originally planned to travel to Bayasabhad alone with her khalassar, but when word got out of her journey, others had approached her about making the trip together for mutual protection. Virtually all were merchants looking to take advantage of her stockpiling food, fodder, water and wine for the trip. In exchange, they gave her coin to help replenish her coffers.

Many preferred dealings with her to dealing with another merchant caravaneer, perhaps thinking she was less savvy and cared less about making a profit from the trip than just getting to her destination intact. Indeed, she did care more about just getting where she was going, but in the many leagues they had to travel, that did not mean she would be lax, idle, or unconcerned about being taken advantage of. Lady Lin had a phrase: "a tight ship."

Dany had spent many years in the Free Cities and had crossed the stormy Narrow Sea a hundred times. She understood the metaphor easily. A tight ship. That was what she wanted to run. With a dark chuckle, she recalled how, after a voyage to Braavos, she had told her brother that she wanted to be a sailor. He had promptly twisted her hair until she cried and told her in no uncertain terms that she was a dragon and not a "smelly fish." Viserys, though cruel, had not been entirely wrong. Still, her kingdom could be a tight ship, and well run, with equal parts justice and compassion. What the Usurper had ruined, she would restore.

"Who is next?" Dany asked, and saw a man approach on horseback. Another of the lucky few. She narrowed her eyes slightly. "Ah. Ser Whitebeard. Or is it Selmy?"

"Your Grace," the man approached, head bowed.

Dany had first met the man as Arstan, a squire from Westeros in service to a retired eunuch pit fighter named Strong Belwas. Belwas himself only called the man Whitebeard, for his whiskers were long and white as fallen snow. They had first met when they joined the caravan, passing on a letter and an invitation from Illyrio Mopatis to turn west. Illyrio had sent ships, three of them, to return her to Pentos.

Daenerys had been sorely tempted to take Illyrio's offer.

Though others, especially Ser Jorah, were suspicious of the cheese monger, Dany still had quite fond memories of Illyrio Mopatis and had always intended to pay him back for hosting herself and Viserys in comfort at his manse. He had been a gracious host when their friends had been few and far between. She was not so naive as to believe the canny magister did not see some angle in which he could potentially profit from them, or from her alone now, but nothing he had done warranted mistreatment or retribution. Even if he did nothing else to ever aid her in all his or her life, Daenerys was intent to repay him for his aid someday.

Thus, yes, she was tempted to take his ships and head back to Pentos.

However, she had already made commitments to meet people in Bayasabhad, and from there, to travel further east still and pursue an alliance and friendship with the rising Orange Emperor of Yi Ti. If needs be, she could take ship in the Jade Sea, though Lady Lin had already convinced her to take a supposedly quicker route to Westeros by sailing further east. She had thus expressed the hope that Illyrio's ships could wait for word from her in Qarth, or in another port in Yi Ti, but that if not, she would make her own way.

In the end, the ships had left, but Aristan and Belwas – the messengers – had remained. Daenerys had welcomed them into her khalassar, as friends of a friend, allies of an ally, but otherwise thought little of them being there. It was only some time later that Lady Lin and Ser Jorah had approached her with their mutual suspicion about the supposed-squire Whitebeard's true identity.

"Your Grace," Ser Barristan said with a deep tone that she couldn't help but think of as fatherly. "Once more I must apologize and beg your forgiveness; it was never my intention to play you false."

"Only to watch me from a distance?" Daenerys asked, sighing softly. "To see if I mistreated those below me, perhaps? Or if I was fond of fire?"

Ser Barristan shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. "Your Grace… sees through me."

"Not on my own," Dany admitted, and took another look at the knight. He was taller than Ser Jorah, leaner, older, but with hard lines. Though not armored at the moment, except for a steel cuirass, she could see shades of the legendary knight that others had spoken highly of. He reminded her of Jorah in some ways, but in many others, they were like night and day. It was fitting, as they two did not seem to get along, not before Arstan was revealed and not now, after.

Would it have been wiser for him to just appear and announce himself as a Kingsguard seeking a new King, or Queen in this case? Would she have trusted him? He had served the Usurper for most of her lifetime. He abandoned the rightful King and Queen to suffer in Essosi exile. Illyrio would vouch for him, else he would not have been here, delivered by Illyrio's ships and bearing Illyrio's invitation, but that only went so far when it came to trust and the mistakes of the past. For that matter, how long would he have been content to secretly gauge whether she was worthy or not to pledge his sword to? They would never know, now.

"You made an appointment to see me, and so we are seeing one another," Daenerys continued, idly wrapping the reins of her horse around her right hand. "What can I help you with?"

"I merely wished to apologize again, Your Grace… in person," he added. "Face to face."

"I see," Dany considered. "If you would be so kind, could you answer a question of mine?"

"Of course, Your Grace."

"When you left Pentos to find me, what were you expecting to see?"

Barristan rode alongside her and he was quiet for a few seconds. "I honestly did not know," he admitted, with some clear regret. "There was little known about you in Westeros, even among the King's Small Council. Viserys was brought up from time to time, and there were rumors of how he was…"

"You can say it," Daenerys said as the man trailed off, searching for kind words. "Aerys come again?"

"Mercurial," Barristan was more diplomatic. "Your Grace. I joined the Kingsguard under His Grace, King Jaehaerys, second of his name, and I can still recall his voice and his face. He once told me that madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin. Every time a new Targaryen is born, he said, the gods toss the coin in the air and the world holds its breath to see how it will land."

Daenerys' heart missed a beat at that. Not so much because of the old anecdote, but because of who it came from. Ser Barristan had known her grandfather… and surely much else besides. Before meeting Lady Lin, all she had known of Westeros, her true home, and even her family, had come from Viserys and Ser Jorah. The former, she had come to realize, was not exactly an unbiased or reliable source, and in retrospect, neither was the latter. Ser Barristan had likely forgotten more than either of the other two men had ever known, and his knowledge was first-hand.

"I was there for virtually all the years of your father's life," the old knight continued, "Though not as clearly, I remember Aegon the Unlikely, who knighted me, and the noble Prince Duncan without whom I would not be here. I have known good Kings and good men, some not necessarily the other."

"Illyrio wept when he told me that Viserys had died, though for some men, tears mean little in truth," Barristan recalled. "He told me of you, how he knew you to be good and gentle and caring, and now the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms. When I left Westeros, the realm had four kings and no justice. What was I expecting when I came here to see you? I suppose I was hoping to see for myself if you would be different."

Daenerys nodded, understanding, "And am I?"

"You are," Ser Barristan answered, simply. "You are very different."

Dany scoffed. "I think that myself, sometimes. The Daenerys that Illyrio knew died in the Great Grass Sea, and the Daenerys that Drogo married died in his funeral pyre. I am still growing, Ser Whitebeard, still changing, and still learning."

"A wise man, or woman, is always learning," he replied, again, in that fatherly tone. "And always growing... and you are Queen… Your Grace, you are the trueborn heir of Westeros."

"I am, but I need wise men and wise women to help me grow into the Queen I must become," Dany said, and hoped it was as sage as she had others be. "Tell me, then, about my predecessors… and about the Usurper and his spawn. Tell me true. I'll make my decision about you then, and whether you are a wise man or not."

So, he spoke.

He began at the beginning and told her of Aegon V, Aegon the Unlikely he was often called, and of how he became King through tragedies and unlikely duels and hedge knights. He told her about the man's sympathy for the small folk, but he also told her about how his reforms upset the nobility, as a son of that nobility himself and an heir of Harvest Hall. He also recalled, from his distant youth, how the Baratheons under Lyonel 'The Laughing Storm' had risen up in brief rebellion over Prince Duncan spurning his betrothal to the man's daughter. It was from this same incident, Dany knew, that the Usurper claimed his legitimacy, for to appease his enraged old friend, Aegon the Unlikely agreed to marry his daughter to the man's son.

The Tragedy at Summerhall came, as Aegon wished for dragons to cement his reforms and his rule, and from the ashes came Jaehaerys, second of his name. Her grandfather ruled for only three years, and in those years, Westeros began to revert to normalcy, though marriage problems persisted as with Duncan. Marriage agreements with the Tyrells and Tullys had been broken when Jaehaerys and his sister Shaera effectively eloped, secretly escaping their minders and consummating their marriage. The War of the Ninepenny Kings followed, and the end of the Blackfyres following the death of Maelys Blackfyre.

Dany privately considered whether it was even such a good thing that the Blackfyres were all gone. Perhaps they could have been of some use now, to unite the lines and reclaim the throne. Viserys could have married some descendant of Daemon. Then again, it could also have been the ruin of them, and what's done was done in any case. Aegon the Fifth's lesson was one Dany easily took to heart, for she had plans as well for… changes… in the realm. Unlike her poor great grandfather, however, she had three young dragons.

Ser Barristan continued his story, and almost hesitantly, came to Aerys and Princess Rhaella.

Daenerys knew some of what to expect, when this part of her lineage was brought up. Not too long ago, she had bristled at her father being called the Mad King. Viserys had told her the truth of it, he had said so himself, and the truth was that their father was a good man betrayed by ambitious lords, their brother Rhaegar seduced by a northern woman whose family had planned from the start to rip apart the realm. Even Ser Jorah had been hesitant to diverge from that narrative.

It was Lady Lin who had insisted on accuracy, not out of sentiment, but because Lady Lin loved accuracy for accuracy's sake. Her people had records on not only the number of men (and women) her father had ordered burned alive but notes on how long it took them to expire, most likely from some maester with too much time on his hands. Ser Rickard, Lord Paramount of the North, for example. He had taken a little more than five turns of a small sandglass to die. "Not from suffocation, as you might expect, but from shock and loss of blood. The pyromancers had a system set up to keep a victim's head clear of smoke, so they died more slowly."

What Lady Lin's records couldn't tell her was what kind of people her family were. Was her mother kind? Did she love her children, or resent them for being products of rape? Was her father ever a good man? Why had Rhaegar run off with Lyanna Stark? Lin's people were like maesters and cared about numbers above and beyond all things. Ser Barristan… he could know what they did not.

Yet, for all that she wanted to know of noble Rhaegar, the stories of her father and his follies and cruelty left her with too sour a taste in her mouth. In some ways, Lin's way was kinder: numbers were easier to process than the recollections of a man who had heard the suffering scream… who had heard her own mother's crying behind closed doors.

"And yet you did nothing to help her."

Dany felt she need to stop him then and there. She felt her blood boil and couldn't help but recall those first few nights with her Sun and Stars. Drogo, too, had not been gentle, and had not understood the word, 'no' or 'stop.' He was Dothraki, and he took what he wanted. A part of her would always hate him for that, even as another part loved and admired him for it.

Yet she doubted her mother ever came to love her father… or forgive him.

"The Kingsguard serves the King, it does not judge him," Ser Barristan recalled, after a long pause. "We all saw the contradiction. Myself, the White Bull, Ser Arthur, Ser Jon and Ser Oswell. Ser Lewyn was tempted to do something about it, I know. He said so more than once. A knight vows to protect women and the innocent. But it would also set a frightful precedent… Kingsguards acting against Kings, even if it was to protect them from themselves. You know of the Dance of Dragons and Criston Cole, the man called Criston the Kingmaker? The Kingsguard have had men who betray their oaths… but it would be no guard at all if it goes from protecting kings to making them."

Barristan trailed off after that, and Dany could imagine that he was recalling in his head long-past arguments by long-past men: a brotherhood holed up in the White Sword Tower around candles, arguing what to do. It may have only been her imagination, but who knew today? Jamie Lannister, perhaps. The Kingslayer himself. Who had done just as Ser Barristan suggested, ending the reign of a Mad King but far too late to save anyone.

Ser Arthur Dayne. Dany knew him as the legendary Sword of the Morning, who even Viserys had praised. Ser Oswell Whent. Ser Gerold Hightower. Ser Jonothor Darry. Prince Lewyn Martell. Ser Barristan Selmy. Ser Jamie Lannister. These men had been the Kingsguard of her father, and many were the friends of her brother. She knew them by name and reputation… all but one, who she now met face-to-face.

Was he a wise choice for her Queensguard?

Could she trust him? Hells, should she even have a Queensguard? She had her bear, her right-hand, Ser Jorah. And she had her bloodriders. Maybe that was enough?

"As for Rhaegar…" Ser Barristan tried to continue.

"My brother and the Usurper can wait for another time," Dany said, interrupting him. She held up a hand for silence, to hear her out. "I asked for the truth, Ser Barristan, and I sense you have given it to me… raw and real and painful. For both of us. For this, for your candor, I thank you. Let me tell you now what I wish from those who would serve me: obedience, yes, but also honesty and a good heart. I am but a young girl-"

She couldn't help but use one of her new favorite phrases to try and disarm him, as she had so many in Qarth. It helped that she actually was still a young girl.

"-but what I do know is that there is much I do not yet know. I do not need flatterers or hangers-on. If I am wrong… well, I know I have at least one advisor who will tell me if I am factually wrong. But I need someone who can tell me if I am also being cruel or unwise. Mine is the blood of the dragon, Ser Barristan, and sometimes it burns hot indeed. I have come to see that this is both a great strength and a potential weakness."

Ser Barristan bowed his head. "Your Grace."

"Advise me, Ser Barristan, but never betray me, and never lie to me, even to spare my feelings," she concluded. "Do this, and I will welcome you under my banner and into my trust."

"I swear it," Ser Barristan vowed. "Give me a blade, and I will swear my oath here and now."

"I had not noticed… your empty scabbard. Is there some story behind that?"

"That," Barristan murmured, and stroked his beard anxiously. "Honestly, I thought to tell you, during our conversation, and if you would have me… that I had thrown away my sword and would only accept one from my Queen."

Dany stared at him for a moment, not quite sure if this was knightly pageantry or mummery.

"It sounded noble when I committed to it," Ser Barristan explained, trying to hold onto his dignity.

"Rakharo will bring us a suitable sword from the armory," Dany promised, sending a quick look to her bloodrider, who was lurking quietly behind them, watching and listening for any betrayal.

"Forgive me, Your Grace," Ser Barristan added, again, with a little hesitation. "There is one other thing. In the interests of the truth… there is something you should know about Ser Jorah."

"About… Ser Jorah?" Dany asked in surprise.

What could there be to say about him? Did Ser Barristan suspect that Jorah pined for her? That he had dared to kiss her, two days ago? It was of concern, yes, but it was hardly some terrible revelation. Ser Jorah would just needs find another woman, a good woman, which Dany was certain he would in time. He only needed to understand that while she loved him and cared for him, she did not desire him. Aside from that largely harmless indiscretion, Ser Jorah was just… Ser Jorah.

Her loyal bear.

Or so she had thought.

. . .

Informer.

Spy.

Traitor!

Dany's mind was awhirl with invectives.

Ser Jorah, the man who had saved and protected her, who had given her advice and comfort, who had been her only friend in this world through some of the hardest times in her life… Ser Jorah who had been more a brother to her than her own flesh and blood…! An informer for the gods damned Usurper! How could it be true? How?!

Dany's first and most overriding impulse had been to seek out and confront Ser Jorah himself, and she had been stalking through the camp – Ser Barristan at her heels – with the intention of doing just that. Then, impulse drew her into a detour. If Ser Jorah had betrayed her, if her great bear couldn't be trusted, if he hadn't been her friend this whole time, then who knew who else had been false? Who else had been manipulating her? When she walked by the non-descript tent, one name popped into her head, familiar and mysterious, dear and dangerous, and suddenly omnipresent.

Three treasons will you know, once for blood and once for gold and once for love.

Damned prophecies. She had to know.

"Wait here, Ser," Daenerys commanded, not even bothering to wait for Ser Barristan's answer.

"But your Grace, I-"

She ignored him. She ignored everything else.

Pulling open the flap of the tent, Daenerys saw the object of her confusion and ire. She was with a girl Dany didn't know or recognize – someone from one of the merchant groups – a young girl whose eyes widened in shock and fright at the khaleesi's sudden appearance and enraged visage. Lady Lin had her back to the tent flap but seemed to have eyes in the back of her head to compensate.

"Just a moment, Daenerys," she said, offhandedly, filling a little paper bag with a small handful of rounded candies. She turned and tossed the bag to the girl. "Here. Suck on one of these in the morning and another at night. You don't need anything else; you're not dying and you're not sick."

"T-thank you, kind master," the girl muttered in high valyrian, bowing her head effusively to both Lin and then Daenerys. She seemed to gauge Dany's bad mood better than Lin. "Good Queen. Thank you both. Please excuse me!"

As she hurried out, Lin shook her head. "Not sick, but terrible teeth. Terrible. So, Daenerys, what brings you to me, all full of fire and fury?"

"Did you know about Ser Jorah?" Dany asked, advancing on the older woman.

"I think most everyone who spends time around you two knows about that," Lin answered, seeming unperturbed by the woken dragon.

"Not that! I'm not happy everyone around me seems to know about that, but I meant his treason!" She stamped her foot and leveled a finger at the Yitish woman. "He was betraying me this whole time! To the Usurper of all people! I want to know if you knew!"

"Jorah was Varys' spy?" Lin asked, cupping her chin in thought. "Well, that makes sense…"

"So, you did know!"

"Sort of. I knew there was a spy, because my people had spies of our own listening in on many of the small council meetings," Lin explained, her calmness a stark contrast with Dany's fury. "Unfortunately, Varys began to grow paranoid some time before Robert's death and he took efforts to stymie our… little birds. Our intel gathering since then has never been as easy as it was in previous years, and we were never omniscient to begin with."

"You have an answer for everything, don't you?" Dany snapped, angry too that her fury was beginning to ebb away, replaced by frustration and helplessness. A worry that had been in the back of her mind bubbled up to the surface and, after many months, popped.

"I don't know you," she said, and while it had meant to come out as a fierce condemnation, Dany heard her voice break, betraying her, too. "I don't know you! Not the real you! Not the truth about you! You're probably the only real friend I have in this whole world and I don't even know you! How can I trust you? How can I trust anyone? Ser Jorah lied to me, spied on me, even when I was with child! And I know no more of you today than I did when we first met!"

Daenerys found herself short on breath as the words finished spilling out, though why she felt so exhausted, she couldn't say. At least she could see her words had had an effect. Lady Lin's expression had hardly changed when she saw her khaleesi angry, but now she saw them soften and even grow pensive. Lin seemed about to talk, only to bite back her words and reconsider.

"Explain that," Dany demanded, and took it a step further. She pushed Lin by the shoulder back a step. "Explain that!" She pushed again, harder, forcing the woman to stumble. "You can explain everything else! Explain that to me! I command it! Explain it to me!"

"Daenerys," Lin said, holding up her hands and, after a fumble, catching Dany's own. "Stop, please. Give me a moment."

"A moment to… what?" Dany spat. "Think up a lie? To make a fool of me?"

"A moment to think about how to explain the truth," Lin replied. She let Dany's hands go free and turned around to run both hands through her dark hair. "You're right. You're right… you do know little about me. But you must know I was not sent to be your friend or your companion. I was sent to educate you."

"Sent by who?" Dany asked, and physically closed in on her again. "Tell me who you really work for and what they really want!"

"That… is very difficult to explain in a way you would understand," Lin began, and met Dany's eyes. "I suppose, what we want is for you to be more like us. Then, when you are more like us, you can join us."

"Join you?" Daenerys didn't understand. She said as much. "What does that mean? Join you?" Her expression darkened and she staggered back a step. "Do you mean serve you?"

Lin shook her head. "We are not Ghis or Volantis; we don't have slaves or serfs. Ours is like a Freehold, where every human, every man and woman, is free, within reasonable limits. They are free to own land, free to work or not work, free to move from land to land, so long as it is within the realm, and free to pursue their happiness… we do not need slaves or serfs. If we need those things, we make them from silicon and steel, not flesh and blood."

She spread her arms wide, and Dany saw the passion and the truth in her eyes and knew that this, this was the real Zhu Lin before her now.

"We want you to join us as equals," she said, and gently but firmly took Daenerys by the shoulders, "We want you to be one of our fortresses in the night, a beacon of order and strength in the darkness, but you must rise to do that. You must be so much more than you are now, wasted, living hand-to-mouth here in the dirt. We need to teach you how to stand. You are not our equals, not yet, but you can be. Must be! We will give you that first push but then – then you must lift yourselves up! Then you will be our brothers and our sisters!"

Lin let out a breath, still riding an emotional high of her own. "Is any of this making sense to you?"

"No," Dany answered, though in truth some of it did. All the lessons, all the lectures, all the tests, suddenly they all took on a new meaning. They weren't just to make her a better ruler in the future. They were… to bring her up to a level that was considered… more than just a child? Something like that?

"Daenerys," Lin said, and Dany glanced up to see the older woman's worried expression. Her eyes were tight and seemed almost ready to shed tears. "I was sent to educate you, to guide you, but that was only the start. I care about you. I don't have any real friends here, either… except maybe you." She smiled, wan and apologetic. "And I'm sorry I haven't been open with you, but I didn't want to scare you."

"The dragon doesn't get scared," Dany told her, wiping a tear out of her left eye under the pretense of brushing away a stray hair.

"Of course, it does," Lin replied with a grin. "They actually spook very easily. Viserion is jumpier than a cat."

Dany smiled back, weakly. "He is," she admitted.

"My name is Zhu Lin," the foreign woman finally said, and a load seemed to lift off her chest and off her shoulders, "and I'm from the Commonwealth of Man. The Commonwealth of all men."

. . .

Daenerys left Lin's tent in a very different mood than when she entered.

Questions had been answered, but many more had been left with only a promise to revisit them in the future. What Lin had shared was almost unbelievable… had she not already proven herself to be uncannily wise about so much else in this world. She was no Mirri Maz Duur or Quaithe. Her knowledge was vast but not inscrutable; quite the contrary, as she concerned herself with sharing and explaining her knowledge more than anything else. She was a teacher and a wise woman, but also an agent of powers beyond anything seen on Essos or Westeros.

A year ago, Daenerys would have seen a flying lantern and thought it magic. Now, she knew how to make one, and why it flew. Perhaps most importantly, she could never see a mystery again and simply discount it as inexplicable. Lin had taught her, above all else, to look beneath the surface for the mechanisms of the universe. She had already taken the first step, by simply changing her world view, towards joining the Commonwealth. There, man's curiosity towards the mechanisms of the universe was all but insatiable, for in those secrets lay True Power.

When Lin explained this, Daenerys felt it stir something in her heart.

When Lin explained it, Daenerys knew she felt the same.

It had not always been thus, and it need never have been thus, but eyes once opened seldom willingly shut. They would have to speak more about it all, but not with Irri, Jhiqui or Doreah present. Daenerys knew that none of them were ready for such truths and knowing that made it easier to understand that she herself had not been ready either, not very long ago.

For now, there was the matter of Ser Jorah.

"Your Grace," Ser Barristan dipped his head, having dutifully waited outside the tent. He seemed relieved that Dany had calmed, but she could see the tension in his shoulders and how his hand tensed on the pommel of his sword.

"How much did you overhear, ser?" she asked. "I did not realize the Kingsguard were such eavesdroppers."

"Many a Kingsguard has stood witness while matters of the realm were decided by Kings and Queens," Ser Barristan explained, but a little shamefully. "A knight of the Kingsguard is always in the King's presence, day and night. Our vows are to protect his secrets as we protect his life."

"That aside?" Dany pressed. "How much did you hear?"

"More than I ever imagined," Ser Barristan answered with an unsteady voice. "A castle built in the heavens themselves? How can such a thing be true? Are you truly to see it, someday?"

"I suspect you would like to see it, too, as one of my Queensguard," Dany observed, and Ser Barristan blushed.

"All boys dream of such follies; I was no different. To see one before I die…" He shook his head. "It is all too much. I am yours, and I am your Kingsguard, or Queensguard, by any name the duty is the same to me. I will go where you lead. I do not know this Lady Lin, I can speak neither well nor ill of her, and I know nothing of her people. If they are as mighty as she claims them to be, it is wise to be cautious, but it doesn't change what needs be done for the Seven Kingdoms."

"No, it does not," Daenerys agreed, and nodded both to herself and to him. "In fact, just the opposite: in ten years' time, this window of opportunity will close, and likely stay closed forever. Come. It is time to see Ser Jorah."

"Yes, Your Grace," Ser Barristan said, already falling in step behind her. "If I may ask, what do you intend to do?"

"I will not know for certain until I see him, and see his face, when I confront him with the truth," Dany replied, crossing her arms over her chest but still in thought. "But after the talk I just had… with wroth given way to reason, I do not think I can condemn him. Not like I first thought to. Besides, if I held everyone-" and here she gave Barristan a hard glare "-to certain standards then I would be truly and utterly alone… and I do not want that, Ser. I have been alone enough in my life."