King's Landing…
Visenya looked out at the streets of King's Landing as she was carried along in her litter. People bowed as she passed by, and flocks of pigeons flew overhead as the sun shone down on the capital. By all appearances, it was a perfect day, and yet the Queen of Westeros felt nothing but worry inside.
Even now, Drakon was halfway around the world, ready to go to war against Daenerys Targaryen. Visenya touched a hand to her belly, fearing that her brother might never return. Having not bled in over a month, she knew that she was with child, just as her dreams had promised her. She only wished that her brother would be there for her when the child came. Drakon was going to rescue his son, and she fully understood that.
But that also meant that he had had to leave her.
The silver-haired woman took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. Her brother was the greatest warrior in the Seven Kingdoms, maybe even the entire world. To her, he was the greatest king who ever lived, and the Black Dragon would never leave his Queen alone in the world. The litter eventually came to a stop, and one of the Goldcloaks opened it for her. Ser Hugo, one of Drakon's most loyal knights and Lord Commander of the City Watch, held out a hand for her.
"Thank you, Ser Hugo" she said with a smile as she took the hand and stepped onto the street.
"Of course, Your Grace" he said. "I've often found prayer to be a source of comfort ever since my wife's death. I'm sure it will ease your fears."
They both looked up at the Great Sept of Baelor. The monolithic structure towered above them as one of the city's greatest landmarks. It was a constant reminder of how important the Faith of the Seven was in Westeros. Visenya knew that Drakon was not particularly religious, but he understood that it was a powerful political tool that could both unify and destroy. Personally, she could have cared less about the faith; even though Westeros was her home now, there were many things about it that were strange to her. But, she had to maintain appearances.
And perhaps a prayer could save her brother's life.
She began to ascend the steps, followed by Ser Hugo and Ser Harras Harlaw. The Ironman was one of the greater warriors of the Kingsguard, and he certainly looked imposing with his black armour and Valyrian Steel sword by his side.
"Your Grace" a minor nobleman said, bowing to Visenya as she walked past him.
"My Queen" a woman and her child said.
"Hail, the Blackfyre Queen!" someone cried from nearby.
"The Dragons love their own!"
"Do you respect tradition, Your Grace?"
Visenya paused and glanced back at the people dotting the street leading up to the Sept, furrowing her brow. Pursing her lips, she faced the doors as Ser Harras opened them, walking past the statue of Baelor the Blessed. She stepped inside and was greeted by the seven massive statues arranged in a circle around the main chamber. Candles were lit at the base of each, with the exception of the Stranger, and several nobles were present, praying to one of the aspects.
Visenya stepped down into the main chamber, the very place where the High Sparrow had crowned her and her brother the new King and Queen of Westeros. As the nobles bowed and parted before her, she saw the man kneeling at the base of a nearby statue.
She patiently waited for several moments, and eventually the old man took notice. "Ah, Your Grace" he said, slowly standing. He turned to face her, wearing nothing but his usual tunic of roughspun wool. A quick glance revealed that, like always, he walked barefoot, having 'given his shoes to someone who needed them'.
"Your Holiness" she said, inclining her head.
"Have you come to pray to the gods?"
"For my husband's safe return" she replied. Glancing at the statues, she spoke a little more quietly. "Though I must confess that I am not as familiar with the faith as I would like to be."
The High Septon smiled. "We are all but children before the gods. Any may learn who wish to." He looked up at the seven statues. "There is but one God, Your Grace, with seven aspects that can be prayed to." Gesturing to the statue which he had just been praying to, he said "The Crone represents wisdom and foresight. None of us can foretell the future; only she knows the fate of all men. The Warrior represents courage and strength. Men like your husband channel him on the battlefield. The Maiden represents purity, innocence, and love. In the wake of the recent horrors of war, we are profoundly lacking such things. The Smith represents creation and craftsmanship. He who would construct the greatest armour or lowliest home pray to him. The Stranger represents death and the unknown of what lies beyond. Men fear what they do not understand, but in the end, we all return to the gods. The Father represents justice. He passes judgement over all, and weighs the balance of every sin and misdeed. The Mother represents mercy and peace. Any who would seek forgiveness or absolution need only ask for it."
Visenya nodded, appraising each of the seven statues in turn. She could understand how most people would turn to religion for comfort, to gain answers for life's greatest mysteries and explanations for all its hardships. However, she did not need to seek some higher power; she was Blood of the Dragon, sister and wife to the Black Dragon. There was no higher power that controlled her destiny. She and her brother would dictate what was right and what was wrong.
"A rather extravagant gown" the High Septon noted. "I imagine it must have cost quite a lot of money."
Visenya caught the thinly veiled accusatory tone he was using. "It was a gift from my mother, before I left home. Silver always was my colour."
He smiled, though they both knew it was forced. One of the Sparrows brought him a book, which he then gave to her. The seven-pointed star was on the cover. "Should you wish for more guidance in the matters of the gods, then I would be happy to assist you. Remember, Your Grace: the gods can be merciful to those who beg their forgiveness. But they can also deliver swift punishment to those who sin against them."
"Well, should I commit a sin in the future, I shall keep that in mind, Holiness."
Meereen…
Olene stared out at the horizon, watching as the sun slowly set as it bathed the sky in brilliant orange. A pleasant breeze blew in from outside, caressing her skin and lightly ruffling her hair. "You seem a bit distracted, Olene" the queen said, breaking her out of her reverie.
The Braavosi turned around and faced the Targaryen monarch. "Apologies, Your Grace. I was just… I am with child."
The other woman's mouth opened slightly with surprise. "That's wonderful! I'm sure Kovarro is thrilled."
"He spent most of the day drinking himself into a stupor with the other Bloodriders." They both laughed as Olene sat next to her queen at the council table. "I never expected something like this ever happening. Before I came into your service, I did not plan on having a family."
The queen furrowed her brow. "Do you not have relatives in Braavos?"
Olene shook her head. "My parents died of a sickness when I was little. I grew up on the streets, begging and stealing to survive. The closest thing I ever had to family was my Dancing Master, Syrio Forel."
"You've spoken of him before."
The Braavosi woman smiled. "When I was eight years old, I had a pet cat. Jonys. A scrawny little thing, just as likely to bite your finger as it was to purr. At first, I wanted to eat it, because I was always starving, but for some reason I can't explain, I kept it. Named him Jonys, after my father. Cats are fast, and after a while, I found that he could snatch fruit from stalls or coin from people's purses quicker than I ever could."
The queen cocked her head a little to the side. "What happened to him?"
"One day, he got caught stealing an apple from a group of boys. They caught him, and snapped his neck. I was so angry that I attacked them, which wasn't the best idea, because they were at least ten years older and three times as big as me. I was small and quick, but that didn't matter. They had me on the ground, and just as one of them started hitting me, someone appeared from nowhere and knocked all three of them out. I looked up and saw that it was Syrio Forel, the First Sword to the Sealord himself. I couldn't believe it. He looked down at me and said 'You are quick, boy, but you can be much quicker'. I told him that I was a girl, and he said 'Boy, girl… do you want to be faster than all the others? To learn the Water Dance?' I took his hand, and he gave me a home and taught me everything I know."
Suddenly, the bells started ringing, and Olene and the queen stood up. They looked outside, and saw a dark mass moving in the distance, beyond the city gates. The Braavosi guessed that it was an army.
"The Masters" the queen said. Just then, a monstrous roar sounded from high above. "Drogon!"
They both walked out onto the balcony, looking up at the sky. They soon spotted a winged shape against the brilliant orange of the setting sun. The queen laughed and smiled with joy, but when the shape turned, it did not have the dull black colour of her largest Dragon. Instead, its scaled body was silver, with golden wings that gleamed with the fading sunlight. It was soon joined by a companion with bronze scales and the same golden wings.
They both circled above the city a few times, occasionally letting loose a roar that was sure to gain the attention of everyone in Meereen. The silver one then flew directly at the Great Pyramid, coming to land on the very top.
The Dragon looked every bit as large as Drogon, if not larger. It bared its long, sharp teeth as it growled down at both women. Olene looked to the creature's back, where a rider sat on a specialized saddle. He was big and muscular, wearing impressive black plate armour with clawed gauntlets and a three-headed black Dragon within a circle of crimson on his breastplate. He wore a black, winged war helm.
"Daenerys Stormborn, I am Drakon Blackfyre, King of the Andals and the First Men. Release my son, or I will burn your city to ash around you!"
DUN DUN DUUUN! Ladies and gents, Drakon Blackfyre is in the house!
I loved writing that little misdirect. One second, you think Drogon is back to save his momma, then BAM! Turns out it's her relative's kids, and he raised them to be tough as opposed to Dany's mostly hands-off parenting technique.
Please review/favourite!
krasni: Oh, absolutely! How could I not? I already know how Drakon would react, but I'm waiting until the show gets to the reveal to see how Dany will react.
Hail King Cerion: Exactly!
HeyStardust: Thank you so much!