Daenerys spots the now familiar silhouette of Dragonstone in the distance, and the dragons start their descent from the clouds. She is dragged from her thoughts of Jon Snow and all of the trouble he has brought her when she notices a fleet of ships near the island, the sails bearing kraken sails that are different from those that carried her from Slaver's Bay. Angered at the losses she had suffered in the battle against the Night King, betrayed by Cersei, upset with Jon Snow and the recent revelations about him, her face hardens as she silently commands Drogon to venture closer, intending to take out Euron Greyjoy and his Iron Fleet.
The first harpoon passes several yards to her left, and she turns her face towards it as it passes, curious as to what sort of weapon they had thought would take down a dragon.
And then she feels Drogon lurch beneath her as he lets out a piercing cry. The second arrow had hit him square in the chest and is quickly joined by another.
"Drogon!" Dany screams, hands gripping the spikes on his back tighter as their descent towards the water becomes more rapid.
Rhaegal lets out a roar of his own at his brother's pain and then makes a wide arc to the right, leaving Dany and Drogon behind as he gains altitude and heads back toward the mainland. She tries to call her green son back to her, but he ignores her commands.
The black dragon 's wings catch the air, stopping their descent, and they coasts along the surface of the water, managing to dodge two more harpoonss that are directed at them before the ships turn their attention on those carrying her people. She turns back to watch in horror as the arrows rip through her own ships, unable to help her people with one dragon injured and the other fleeing.
Finally, with about one hundred yards separating them from the beach, Drogon dips into the sea with a splash. Daenerys slips off of his back, submerged in the water, and must fight her way to the surface.
"Drogon!" she shouts again, seeing his head floating next to her in the water. He gives her a pain-filled growl as she touches his snout, red eyes blinking slowly at her. The water around them is steaming at the hot blood coming out of the dragon. "It will be alright, my child," she says, more to reassure herself than him. After all, he had healed from spear wounds before, and he is bigger and stronger now than he was then.
Drogon lets out a huff, his warm breath disturbing the water before him, and his eyes slip closed. Slowly his head sinks below the surface of the water.
"Drogon?" Daenerys stares in shock at the water, waiting for him to reappear. When he doesn't, the horror sets in. "No! Drogon!"
Tyrion had seen the black dragon shot from the sky and the green one escaping, just as they all had before the harpoons had destroyed the ships. When he finally gets to the shore, the queen is still kneeling in the sand where she had washed in, the waves crashing against her knees as she looks out at the spot where her dragon had disappeared beneath the water. Seeing the tears on her cheeks, the complete lack of recognition to anything else going on around her, he lets her be for the moment.
It is only Grey Worm's shouts for Missandei that draw her out of her shock as she realizes that she has lost more than just her dragons.
Jon brings his horse to a stop when he sees the dragon in the distance. At first he thinks it is Daenerys, but as the dragon gets closer, he realizes that it is Rhaegal. His heart rate quickens, fearing that the dragon had come to him because she is in danger.
Ser Davos pulls up next to him as the rest of the march halts when the dragon lands in their path. "The queen is quite fond of you, Your Grace. I suppose she desires your company on Dragonstone while the rest of us continue to King's Landing."
Jon tilts his head towards his advisor, unable to tell him just how wrong his words are. Daenerys had been furious when he told her who he was, had begged him not to tell anyone lest it ruin her claim to the throne. Her anger had only grown when he had insisted that he tell his family, and he sincerely doubts that she had sent Rhaegal to fetch him just because she desires his company when he had clearly turned her down at Winterfell.
"You continue south with our men. We will meet outside King's Landing just as we had planned," he instructs, dismounting from his horse.
Rhaegal moves slightly closer, impatient for Jon to come to him.
"It seems you may soon be a king again, Jon Snow," Ser Davos gives him a wry smile before he turns away.
He doesn't reply as he crosses to the dragon, climbing up onto its back rather clumsily. Rhaegal leaps into the air, and though he is more comfortable with flying than before, his stomach flutters with nerves. Whether it is danger or the queen's anger at the possibility of him taking the throne from her that has brought the dragon to him, he knows he has no choice but to go to her.
"Where is Daenerys?" Jon asks as Tyrion approaches him. He had left Rhaegal on the cliffs where the dragons had made their nest, but Drogon was not there.
"There have been some… developments in the war since we last saw each other," the dwarf replies with a deep frown.
"Is that why she sent for me? To adjust our strategy?"
"Our queen didn't send for you."
They come to a stop outside the doors to the castle, Jon peering down at him in confusion. "But Rhaegal -"
"We were attacked. Rhaegal fled."
"Is she alright?" Jon asks, feeling the panic rising inside of him. He had loved her, after all, and although there is currently a rift between them, he did not wish her any harm.
"Physically she is unharmed. But…" he lets out a sigh then and slowly shakes his head. "Drogon is gone. And Missandei was presumably taken captive by Euron Greyjoy during the attack."
"Gone? What do you mean Drogon is gone?"
"He was shot from the sky. Managed to keep our queen safe and get her close enough to the shore before he died."
"And Missandei too?"
Tyrion gives a short nod, "I suppose she could be at the bottom of the sea too, but Euron's fleet came right through what was left of our ships. Certainly they would have known her value to our queen."
"And where is Daenerys now? What plans have been made to treat with Cersei?"
"She's locked herself in her chambers since we got back… refuses to speak to any of us, even Grey Worm who himself is despondent at the loss of Missandei. Varys and I… well, we haven't made much progress in amending our battle plans."
Jon looks out to the grassy area where he had left Rhaegal for a few moments before turning back to the dwarf. "I shall help you later. I must see Daenerys first."
"And what if she doesn't want to see you, Jon Snow?" he asks, eyes narrowing slightly. When the younger man remains impassive, he continues. "Sansa told me. Daenerys certainly couldn't have been happy when she found out… and seeing how you two are barely speaking after being inseparable on the journey north, I am sure that you have indeed told her."
"I don't want the Iron Throne. Eventually she will come to recognize the truth of my words."
"I suspect that your superior claim to the throne isn't the only reason this news has upset her."
The northerner looks down at his feet, unwilling to verbally confirm their previous relationship.
Jon gets no response to his knock on the door of her chambers. He glances at the guards posted outside as he reaches for the door knob, but they do not seem inclined to stop his entry. He pushes the door open, steps inside, and closes it behind him as he looks around the spacious room in search of her. His gray eyes find her curled up on the bed with her back to him, and he slowly walks across the room.
Her violet eyes continue to stare blankly in front of her, unseeing even when he comes to stand before her, a slow blink and the unsteady expansion of her chest the only signs of life in her small body.
"Dany?" he says quietly, crouching by the edge of the bed so that his face is level with hers. She does not respond, does not even acknowledge that he is there.
"I'm sorry, Dany," he reaches for her hand.
Daenerys flinches away from his touch before he makes contact with her, and he lets his hand fall down onto the bed beside her, close enough that he could touch her if he straightened his fingers. "Why are you here?" she asks, voice raspy from lack of use for nearly two days.
He glances around the room and finding a pitcher of wine left on the table, he moves to pour her a glass. Returning to the bedside, he holds the cup out to her, but she makes no attempt to take it. "Rhaegal brought me here."
She pushes herself up into a sitting position at this, "Rhaegal is back?"
"Yes. He knew you were in trouble and came to me. I was too far away to be of any use, but I can help now. We will work on a new plan to take the city and get Missandei back safely."
Ignoring him, she quickly climbs off of the bed. He watches as she pulls a pair of boots onto her feet and haphazardly throws a cloak over her dressing gown before moving to the door, and he must jog to catch up with her.
She hesitates only for a second outside the doors of the castle, her expression lifting at the sight of her green son, and then she races down the steps to where the dragon waits.
Jon moves more slowly behind her, looking on as she approaches the dragon. She rests a hand on his head as she talks to him and then she moves towards his wing. Rhaegal adjusts his wing as she starts to climb up, causing her to stumble back onto the grass. Undeterred, Daenerys climbs up again, and Jon's eyes narrow as he gets closer to them.
Before she can settle on his back, Rhaegal straightens up onto his hind legs, wings outstretching as he lets out a roar of protest. Unable to catch herself, Dany slides down his back until she lands with a thud in the grass beside his tail.
The green dragon turns around, growling and snarling at his mother as she pushes herself up from the ground.
"Rhaegal!" Jon calls out, sensing the anger of his dragon. When the queen takes a step forward to try again, Rhaegal rears his head back.
Jon's shouts of protest are drowned out by the flames bursting from the dragon's mouth. He stares in disbelief at where she had been standing a moment ago before being engulfed by the flames. "Dany!" he yells in horror before running over toward the dragon.
As the flames from the dragon cease, he stops abruptly where the blackened ground begins and blinks a few times, sure his eyes are deceiving him. But Daenerys stands before him, the expression on her face one of utter shock as she looks at the dragon beside him.
Rhaegal turns his head towards him, his golden eyes shining with fury, before he leaps into the air and takes flight.
Jon watches as the dragon circles higher over the island before finally turning back to the woman before him. And then he quickly averts his eyes once more when he realizes that she is as naked as her name day. He pulls his thick black cloak off and steps around her.
Before he can place it around her shoulders, she spins around to face him, eyes shining with anger. "This is all your fault, Jon Snow. Drogon and Viserion are dead because I was stupid enough to turn away from my own enemies in order to help you fight yours. And now Rhaegal wants nothing to do with me because he has found his own master. How am I supposed to be the Dragon Queen when I have no more dragons to command?"
He is about to protest, to explain that he had never meant to take her dragon from her just as he doesn't intend to take her throne, but movement behind her draws his attention. He can see a small crowd starting to gather outside the castle, the noise of the dragon having drawn their attention. Wanting to protect her modesty, he moves closer to her again and is more insistent in placing his cloak around her shoulders, ignoring the glare in her eyes.
"You can't change what has already happened between us," Daenerys says icily, still hurt by his rejection of her since he had found out that they are related.
"I'm not doing this for me, Your Grace," he replies, nodding over her shoulder.
She turns her head to glance behind her, surprised to find that they have an audience, and she draws his cloak tighter around herself as she looks back up at him. "We are not finished here, Jon Snow. I shall go dress again. When I return, I expect Rhaegal to be waiting for me. And I expect him to not try to kill me again."
Tyrion, Varys, and Grey Worm are in the Chamber of the Painted Table talking with Jon Snow when she joins them. She is in a black dress with the dragon chain across her chest holding a red cloak in place at her shoulder. Tyrion abruptly stops talking when she enters, and she narrows her eyes in suspicion as she glances at the men surrounding the table.
"Is Rhaegal ready?" she asks as her eyes land on her nephew.
"No," he answers, meeting her intense gaze.
"Leave us," Daenerys instructs the others.
Tyrion starts to protest, "Your Grace -"
"Now," she commands, leaving no room for argument.
Once they are alone, she steps closer to the table, coming to stand near King's Landing while he remains across from her near the Iron Islands. "Cersei betrayed us. She didn't send her armies north to join us in the fight as she had promised. She had Drogon killed and took Missandei. I have to make her pay for what she has done. And I need Rhaegal to do that."
"And what exactly is your plan?" he asks, though he is sure he already knows the answer.
"Fire and blood. As much as it takes until she releases Missandei."
"So you're going to slaughter a city of innocent people?"
"She has Missandei," she replies, hands curling into fists where they rest on the table.
"You didn't burn the city to the ground before we went north because it was wrong to do so. It isn't right to do it now just because Cersei has stooped to that level of treachery in order to keep the throne."
"She's my friend. The only friend I have left."
"It doesn't have to be like that, Dany," Jon walks around the table, his hand reaching out for her shoulder as he approaches her.
"Don't," the queen turns toward him, her hand coming up, palm out, between them to keep him from touching her.
He sighs and lets his hand fall. If she wouldn't allow his assurances that she is not alone, then he could at least try to get her to see reason as to why her plan is poor. "Is Missandei also immune to fire, Your Grace?"
She stares at him for a few seconds in suspicion, "Why do you ask?"
"Well, Your Grace, if you are going to bring fire down on the city, wouldn't Missandei also burn?" he tilts his head slightly to one side in question.
"I can't just do nothing. We both know Cersei won't show her any mercy."
"Cersei is cunning. She must know that you were trying to take the throne with as little bloodshed as possible, that that is why you didn't use the dragons to conquer King's Landing when you first arrived in Westeros. She knows what Missandei means to you, and she is trying to goad you into attacking the city."
"And now I have no dragons to attack the city with. Drogon is dead. By now she must know that Viserion is also gone. And it doesn't matter that I am Rhaegal's mother; he is bound to you now and won't listen to me."
"But Cersei certainly doesn't know that - you didn't even know that until today. She is probably thinking that she can shoot him from the sky just as she did with Drogon before there would be significant damage to the city or her armies. And without the dragons…" he trails off, sadness filling his eyes.
"Without the dragons, I am nothing," Daenerys completes his thought, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from falling as she looks away from him.
"You are not nothing, Dany," he places his hand over hers where it rests next to the capital.
She looks up at him for a long moment, wishing she could believe him, but then she withdraws her hand from his as she turns away from him to look out the windows. "I can't attack the city with Rhaegal because it will get him killed. And if we were to survive, I would likely inadvertently injure Missandei in the attack. So what do you propose that I do, Jon Snow?"
Jon sighs, already knowing she won't like his answer. "Our armies will be at the city gates in a fortnight. We will defeat her army and take the city without the dragons."
"She will have killed Missandei by that time."
"Perhaps not. Robb kept Jaime Lannister alive for months as his prisoner because he was too valuable to kill."
"Cersei is not stupid enough to think I would give up the throne in exchange for Missandei."
"I am sure Cersei will make her intentions known soon when she doesn't get the immediate retaliation from you and your dragons that she was hoping for. And perhaps Varys and Tyrion will have more ideas on how to rescue her before our armies get to the city," he comes to stand beside her at the window.
She stares silently out at the barren sky, her heart just as empty at the lack of dragons flying above.
When she doesn't respond, he asks, "Shall I ask the others to rejoin us for a strategy meeting?"
"I suppose," she responds, reluctantly turning back to the painted table.
As her fingers remove the braids from her silver hair for the evening, she can't stop from feeling the absence of her friend and handmaid, the void evident in the empty space behind her that is reflected in the mirror. A knock on her chamber door draws her attention, and after a last lingering glance in the looking glass, she crosses the room to answer it.
Gray eyes meet violet when the door opens, and he stares at her for a moment before speaking, "Your Grace, I apologize. I did not realize you were preparing for sleep."
"Preparing, yes, but I haven't actually slept for more than a few hours since…" she shudders at the nightmares that have been plaguing her. "I just keep reliving the moment the harpoons hit him."
"Dany," he whispers, his heart breaking for her as he takes a step closer. When she doesn't withdraw, he wraps his arms around her, and she allows herself to forget their differences for the moment while she sinks into his embrace. "I am so sorry."
Her eyes fall closed as she struggles to maintain her composure, and she buries her face in his shoulder while her hands clutch his sides. He can feel the soft tremble of her body in his arms, but when she finally pulls away a few minutes later, her eyes are dry. She pushes the door closed and then crosses the room to sit before the fire in the hearth. He hesitates just briefly, ultimately deciding that she would have commanded him to leave if she didn't want his company, before following and settling into the chair across from her.
She stares into the fire for a long time before quietly saying, "I wished it was Rhaegal. It was wrong of me, I know; a mother shouldn't have favorites. But nevertheless I couldn't help but feel more resentment towards you because your dragon survived while mine fell from the sky."
"I never meant for any of this to happen when I asked you to fight for the north. I never wanted your dragons to be harmed," Jon tells her.
Her eyes shift from the fire to look at him, "I saw the wonder on your face when you looked at them; I know that you wished my children no harm."
"But if we had never met, they would still be alive," he supplies the words that she had left unsaid.
"The Night King would have inevitably made his way south, and I would likely still have lost at least one of them in the fight before learning that they aren't immortal. If we hadn't met, he probably would have become too powerful to be stopped by the time I could be convinced that the army of the dead existed."
"You truly didn't believe me when I told you what we were facing? I had thought you refusing to help was purely out of stubbornness in your desire for the throne."
"I thought you too honorable to be entirely lying about this army, but I did not truly believe how much of a threat it was until I saw them for myself and realized the dragons wouldn't stop them as easily as I expected."
Jon leans forward, forearms resting on his knees, "If I had known that mounting Rhaegal would be more significant than just trying to prove that I could be worthy of you, I would never have done it. I would give him back to you if I could."
Fire flashes in her eyes for the briefest of moments at the mention of his true identity before the sadness returns, "A dragon and rider are bound together until one of them dies. It's likely that Rhaegal would have reacted the same way to me trying to ride him after Drogon fell even if you had never ridden him."
"But you were his mother. You could command all three of them before."
"My bond with Viserion and Rhaegal was much weaker. They only followed me because I could command Drogon and there was no one else with dragon's blood around for them to form a stronger connection with."
"Still… I wouldn't have ridden him if I had known the truth about my parents."
"Given your… sudden aversion to me, I have never thought that you were hiding the truth in order to use me or my dragons," she says, eyes shifting back to the fire in order to hide her pain from him.
He doesn't have to see her eyes to know the hurt that she feels, "I am sorry, Dany. It's just…"
"Strange for you, I suppose," she supplies.
"Aye," he agrees.
Silence falls over them then, the only sound the fire crackling in the hearth as he contemplates what else to say to lessen the hurt from the losses he had caused her.
Daenerys takes a deep breath to steady her emotions and then speaks again. "Ever since I was a little girl, the only goal I have ever known is taking back the Iron Throne. The dragons were my means of doing so. I thought that it was my destiny to be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, to bring back the glory of Westeros under Aegon the Conqueror. And now… I can't help but feel that I was wrong. You're the one with the better claim to the throne. You have the love and respect of the people here, not me. And you're the one - the only one now - who commands a dragon."
When her purple eyes turn to search his face, he can see her vulnerability, a self-doubt in them that he has never seen before from the strong queen. "Dany, I have no desire for the throne. I said that I would see you sit upon it, and I will not break my promise."
"I'm afraid it isn't going to be that simple, Jon. Not if word of your true identity spreads."
"It won't. Sam and my family will keep it secret," he promises. And then a moment later realizes that that is already a lie. "Tyrion…"
"Tyrion and Varys distrust me, and I suspect I'm not going to win that trust back now that they know I wanted to use Rhaegal to burn down the city. Not when they have someone with a better claim to the throne and isn't as… temperamental."
"Ser Davos would probably tell you that I have a bit more of the Targaryen temperament in me that you might think, Your Grace," he smiles. When she doesn't return it, he prompts her, "Dany?"
After a moment of hesitation, she continues to open up to him, "You know what troubles me the most in all of this? It isn't that you have the better claim to the throne. Or that you are no longer… interested in me because we are related."
"It's the loss of the dragons," he answers.
Sadness overwhelms her face as she nods, and she closes her eyes to fight off the tears again. "And it really isn't even anger about Rhaegal - how could I be angry with you when I am the one who pushed you to ride him in the first place?"
"Did you ever suspect that I might have some Targaryen blood in me?"
"Not really. I thought he accepted you because he saw what happened to Viserion and knew what we were up against. I thought he knew that I trusted you and that you being his rider was the best way for all of us to survive."
Jon studies her for a long moment and then asks, "Could you hatch more dragons, Dany?"
"I…" she starts but trails off, quite unsure of the answer herself. "In order for that to even be a possibility, we would need more dragon eggs, and my dragons were all male and therefore couldn't mate."
He slides down from his chair and to his knees before her, one of his hands coming to rest on her knee. She looks down at it with a slight frown but doesn't pull away. "Your ancestors - our ancestors - and their dragons lived here for centuries. There have to be some hidden eggs around here somewhere."
"My people thoroughly searched the castle when we landed. If there were any dragon eggs left here, the Baratheons and Lannisters destroyed them, just as they did with the rest of our family."
"Perhaps they weren't in the castle. There is an elaborate system of caves; my men only went through a small part of them when mining the dragonglass."
"Even if we did find some dragon eggs and I could hatch them, it would still be many years before they were grown. And in any case, no one has ridden more than one dragon before, Jon," her hand moves to cover his on her knee, appreciating him trying to help. "Rhaegal's already proven that I can't ride another dragon."
"Rhaegal already has a rider. Perhaps with another dragon who doesn't have a rider it would be different."
She looks down at their hands, "I don't know, Jon. It feels like I would be betraying Drogon if I rode another dragon."
"That didn't stop you from trying to climb on Rhaegal."
"I was grieving and angry and not thinking rationally."
He flips his hand over beneath hers and wraps his fingers around hers, "The plan will work. Varys will use his spies to find out where they are keeping her, and they will rescue her."
"And if it doesn't, Cersei will certainly kill them all."
"Then we shall get revenge when we take the throne from her."
She stands then, maneuvering around him to stand in front of the fire, her back to him and her arms wrapping around herself. After a moment, she quietly admits, "I'm starting to think the throne isn't really worth all of this trouble, not when the price of it is the loss of everyone I care about."
He stands and moves towards her, "Dany -"
Daenerys turns to him, her face composed into the hardened queen he had first met. "Please go, Jon Snow. I am rather exhausted and hope to get a few hours of rest."
He looks at her for a long moment, unsure if he should refuse given her revelation seconds ago when all she has ever wanted since before he had met her was the throne. Ultimately he decides it best not challenge her, even if she no longer commands dragons. "Good night, Your Grace," he says, watching her for a few seconds longer, and then he crosses to the door of the room.
Daenerys stands at the edge of the grassy cliff, looking out at the water where she knows Drogon rests. The ground beneath her feet shakes, and she turns around to find that her green son has landed. His golden eyes stare at her warily for a minute before he lets out a whine and extended his neck to bring his head closer to her.
Dany hesitantly steps forward, her hand coming up to reach out to him. When her palm is against his warm green scales, she lets out a small sigh of relief that he hadn't completely abandoned her. He lets out another whine, and understanding his pain, she whispers, "I miss them too."
Rhaegal circles her before pressing the side of his snout against her abdomen. She rests her left hand on the side of his face while her right comes up to pet the top of his snout as she used to do when they were younger.
Several minutes pass before Rhaegal shifts his head slightly, and she sees Jon Snow come to a stop a few yards from them.
"I wasn't going to ride him," she feels the need to tell him.
"I know."
She looks from her nephew to the dragon, brow furrowing in question, and then looks back at him, "Did you send him here?"
"No."
"Don't lie to me, Jon Snow."
"Rhaegal acted on his own. He may be bound to me, but you are still his mother."
Not quite believing him, she lowers her head and drops her hands from the dragon. He lets out a groan of discontent now that she is no longer petting him and grudgingly she lifts her hand to scratch his chin.
"Dany… if you want to go for a ride, I am sure Rhaegal would be willing to take us," Jon says, stepping closer to them.
She thinks about this for a minute. "And if I want him to take us to King's Landing?"
He sighs, "We've already decided that we weren't going to destroy the city."
"I want to go to the city to negotiate with Cersei," she answers, finally looking back up at his face.
"You said it yourself, Dany. Even if you did truly intend to give up the throne in exchange for Missandei, Cersei would never trust you."
"And what about a trade for someone more valuable to her?"
Jon's gaze shifts away from her then to look out at the sea. "Tyrion was loyal to you for years. I know you've had reason to distrust him recently - perhaps even more so now as he knows the truth about me - but he doesn't deserve to be treated like this."
"I may no longer trust Tyrion, but I would never hand him over to his sister who would almost certainly have him killed," her eyes flash with anger that he could even think so little of her.
"Then who would you trade?"
"Myself."
Gray eyes search hers. "Dany…"
Rhaegal moves away from them then, leaving an open space between them.
"She won't kill me. It is her family who destroyed my own. I have caused her no harm save for the threat I pose to her reign."
"And just look at what the Lannisters have done to keep that reign! They undoubtedly had a hand in Robert Baratheon's death. They killed half of the Starks. Cersei alone has played a significant part in eliminating the Tyrells and the Martells. And if she were to find out that there is another Targaryen alive with a better claim to the throne, you would be worthless to her."
Before Daenerys can respond, the green dragon lets out a roar, and the two turn to find his golden eyes fixed on a lone ship in the distance.
He stares out over the water until he can make out the sails of the ship, "It bears the Targaryen sigil."
"Varys and Grey Worm just set sail last night. Something must be wrong," she responds, her heart filling with dread at the thought of more of her people being harmed.
They watch in silence as the ship draws nearer, eventually dropping anchor, and once the boats are seen paddling in towards the shore, they quickly make their way down to the beach to greet them.
She weaves through the Unsullied soldiers departing from the boats that had just landed to get to their commander, "What happened?"
Grey Worm's expression is more sullen than usual, "We came upon a ship with Euron Greyjoy's sails making its way here. They tried to take our ship, but we defeated them."
She lets her eyes fall on the boat her commander had come out of, one which had only carried two other soldiers. There is a blanket covering a distinctly person-shaped lump lying in the center of the boat.
"I have failed you, My Queen," Grey Worm says, and seeing his composure start to crumble, she knows who is under the shroud.
Jon reaches for her arm to stop her from moving closer, but she pulls out of his grasp and drops to her knees in the sand beside the boat. Hand trembling, she pulls back the blanket to reveal Missandei. She can feel her heart breaking as she takes in the dark ring circling her friend's neck, the strangulation a reminder of the slave collar the she had been forced to wear for so much of her short life.
Several moments pass before she finds the strength to cover her once more. Before standing and turning around to face her people, she hides the sadness that had overcome her with determination. She places her hand on her commander's arm as she speaks, "You have not failed me, Torgo Nudho. And I promised you that Cersei Lannister will pay for what she has taken from us."
Thinking she would want some space, he watches as she crosses the sand. But when she comes to a stop at the entrance to the cave where he had mined the dragonglass not long ago, he knows what she intends to do, even though she had protested the idea the previous evening. By the time he gets to where she had been standing, she has disappeared inside the cave. Jon lights the brazier that had been left at the entrance, giving it a few moments for the fire to take hold and then picking up one of the torches left nearby.
It is then that Daenerys reappears, having realized that she would need light to venture deep into the caves. "Do you truly think there could be more dragon eggs somewhere in there?"
"I think it's a good possibility," he replies, studying her face. There is no trace of the grief and sadness that had her in its grips when he first returned to Dragonstone yesterday; he had feared that the death of Missandei would overwhelm her once more, that she would fall back into the desolate state he had found her in. And if not that, he had certainly expected rage, expected that she would try to ride Rhaegal again. But this steadfast resolve is not what he had anticipated.
"It may be another five years, but I will watch Cersei Lannister burn as I take the Iron Throne."
"Five years is a long time to wait, Your Grace. Certainly you cannot expect our armies to lay siege to the city for such a long time while your dragons are growing."
"Perhaps it won't be so long. Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion were able to kill the warlock in Qarth before six moons had even passed from their hatching."
"Dragon fire seems a rather cruel form of execution," Jon remarks, having heard what she did to the Tarlys as well as what she had been contemplating for the citizens of King's Landing if Rhaegal had cooperated.
She studies his face for a moment before answering. "I shall reconsider my method of execution in the future. But Cersei shall die by dragon fire."
"Perhaps we should return in the morning," Jon suggests when they finish searching the section of the caves that his men had previously mined.
"You may leave if you wish," she says, leaving him behind as she slips into the narrow crevasse leading to the next cave.
He follows, the torch held out in from of him. The silver of her hair reflects the light when he catches back up to her where the passage widens slightly. Now able to see again, she leads him down the hall.
After a few moments, he broaches conversation once more. "When Rhaegal breathed fire on you yesterday, I thought you were gone. Despite the rumors of how you had brought the dragons back, I never truly believed it possible to not be consumed by the flames."
She glances back over her shoulder at him briefly but does not respond as she keeps walking.
"Does it hurt?"
"No. It's… like the cold of the North that you can feel deep in your bones. But instead of cold, it's warmth. And it isn't at all unpleasant."
"And… is this a common trait of our family?"
"Aegon II was burned by dragon fire and then used his dragon to kill Rhaenyra during the Dance of the Dragons. My brother was killed with molten gold that my husband poured on his head. So no… I do not know of any other Targaryen that can withstand fire." She stops as the passage opens up into an expansive cave and turns to him. "Why do you ask?"
He gives a sort of half shrug, "I didn't want this to be any more painful for you than it already is, I suppose."
Limited by the light, they stay near one another as they start to search the cave for dragon eggs to hatch.
"So what will you do when all of this is over, Jon Snow?" she eventually asks, eyes scanning the ground as she slowly walks around the perimeter of the cave with him.
He hesitates for a few seconds before responding. "I haven't yet decided, Your Grace. Winterfell is no more of a home to me than it was growing up, and it belongs to Sansa now. I… I might go back with the Freefolk north of the Wall. Or perhaps I will stay in King's Landing with you."
"With me?" Daenerys abruptly turns to look at him, eyebrows raised in surprise at his response. "Why?"
Avoiding her gaze, he bends down to examine a rock that is far too large to be a dragon egg.
"Jon?" she prompts, softening her gaze now that the initial shock and fear that his words brought have waned slightly. If he had wanted the throne, he already had every advantage over her in taking it; he was an honorable man and wouldn't betray her by waiting until she had unseated Cersei before asserting his right to the throne.
"I've never known a true family," he admits quietly. "Robb and Arya treated me like a true brother, but to everyone else I was always just the bastard. To find out that it was all a lie… that there is this whole other family that I never knew I was a part of…"
"You are my family, Jon Snow," she kneels across from him and places her hand over his on the rock. "You will always have a place with me if that is what you want."
"Thank you, Dany."
"Viserys was the only family I've ever known so it seems that without each other, we would both be alone in the world."
"You are not alone," he assures her.
She gives him a small smile and then rises to her feet. She doesn't move from before him though, and when Jon stands, he finds her gaze fixated on the ground at the base of the wall a few paces away.
"Dany?"
She crosses to the wall before dropping to her knees again, her hand brushing away the fine layer of dirt that had accumulated. Jon steps closer, and the burnt orange color of the dragon egg becomes more apparent in the firelight.
"You were right, Jon," she whispers.
He crouches down next to her and places his hand beside hers on the egg. After a moment, he drives the end of the torch into the ground to free his hands so that he can help to remove the egg from the earth surrounding it.
While he digs out the egg, she stands and walks a few paces away, first looking at the ground for another dragon egg before her eyes turn upward.
"It's heavier than I expected," he says once he is finally able to lift the egg out of the ground, and when he turns to hand it to her, he finds her halfway up the wall, using the pieces of dragonglass to climb up it. "What are you doing, Dany?"
"There's a ledge up there. The egg may have fallen off of it, and if so, there could be more of them up there," she replies.
"Come down from there, and I will climb up to look for them."
"Don't be ridiculous; I'm nearly all the way up already," she ignores his request and continues higher.
He sighs at her stubbornness; if she wasn't well out of his arm's reach, he would have pulled her back down. He sets the orange egg down and wipes his dirty hands off on his trousers as he watches her. Moments later she stops climbing, her head and shoulders above the ledge now, and he sees her pull a dark tinted egg towards her.
He watches her brace the egg against her body with her left arm and then slowly move her left foot down. "You can't climb down with only one hand," he chides.
"Because I'm a girl?" she asks, stopping her descent to glare down at him with a raised eyebrow. "Tell me, Jon Snow, how would you bring the egg back to the ground?"
Jon has no reply to give, knowing he would be doing exactly as she is had it been him to make the climb, and he simply watches the slow progress.
Halfway down, the dragonglass bracing her left foot breaks off from the wall. Her hand scrambles to find purchase, but the downward momentum from the lost footing has already taken hold of her body.
She lands on her back with a groan.
He drops to the ground beside her, his heart racing at the thought that she might share the same fate as his brother. "Dany?" he calls, his fingertips brushing over her cheeks before trailing down her neck in search of a heartbeat.
She lets out another groan of discomfort, her eyebrows furrowing for a moment before her eyes finally blink open to look up at him.
He reaches for the dragon egg, the deep purple color a darker version of the eyes he is so relieved to see again, and gently pulls it from her grip. Bright red smears across the surface of the egg as she releases her hold on it, and he quickly sets it aside in order to examine her. Her right palm has a deep diagonal cut across it from where she had tried to catch herself from falling.
He looks down at himself in search of bandaging to wrap her hand, but his leather isn't suitable for the task. His eyes move back to her face as he asks, "You have a tunic under your coat?"
"Yes," she answers, her eyes fixed on the blood pooling in the hand that he still holds. When he doesn't move, she shifts her focus up to his face, and seeing his hesitation, she reaches up with her uninjured hand to loosen the fastenings of her coat as she says, "It isn't anything that you haven't seen before, Jon."
He places her hand on his lap before rushing to help her open her coat. He then takes his dagger and cuts a strip of cotton fabric from the bottom of her shirt, which he wraps around her palm.
Seeing the blood easily soak through the white material, she places her other hand on the ground and tries to push herself up.
"No, Dany, lay back," he instructs, one hand coming to her shoulder.
She shakes her head, her eyes briefly closing at the pain of the movement, before she bats his hand from her shoulder and tries to sit up once more. "You need a longer bandage, and that can't be cut while I am lying on the ground."
Accepting her logic, he helps her to sit up this time and pulls her other arm free of her coat in order to better access her shirt. He then cuts a much longer bandage, this time two full circles around her waist. After carefully removing the blood-soaked section of shirt he initially had used, he re-wraps her hand in this fresh bandaging. The blood flow has lessened, though, giving him hope that the cut isn't too deep. After he finishes with the bandage, she carefully bends her fingers, examining her range of motion.
Jon wipes his bloodstained hands on his breeches before bringing them up to her head. She looks up at him in confusion as his fingers thread through her hair looking for any sign of injury. With her hair freed from its usual braids, it isn't hard for him to locate the bump where she had hit the ground, and she flinches away from his touch. Trying to be more gentle, he carefully parts her hair and rises to his knees in order to look for signs of bleeding.
Satisfied, he settles back onto his heels, eyes now trailing down her body in search of other injuries. The missing fabric from the bottom of her shirt reveals the beginnings of a bruise to the left side of her lower ribs and abdomen where the heavy dragon egg had landed on her.
Suddenly feeling self-conscious under his gaze in spite of her earlier assurances, she pulls her knees in towards her chest.
He averts his eyes from her, though a weight is lifted from him as her movement had given him confirmation that her spine is not injured. He rises to his feet then and extends a hand to help her up. She accepts it, and his other arm comes around her shoulders as she steadies herself on her feet. Once he is sure she is stable, he holds her coat sleeve out for her to put her arm back in and circles around her to refasten her coat.
It is only once she is fully dressed again that he meets her eyes. "Do you think you're going to be able to walk?"
Ignoring his question, she lifts her hand to point up at the wall she had fallen from, "There is another egg up there."
His eyes narrow, "Dany, you can't go back up there. And it is going to be hard enough for us to get out of here carrying the two eggs we already have and you being injured."
"Jon…" she whispers, her voice a plea.
He sighs, "Promise me that you are not going to insist we try to hatch the eggs as soon as we get out of the caves, Dany. You need to let the maester examine your hand and then get some rest."
She nods, "I will."
He guides her over to a large rock where she can sit down before he starts up the wall, following the same path she had used. When he gets to the top, he finds a blue egg resting on the ledge, navy at the base and lightening to the bright blue of the eyes he still has nightmares about at the tip. The descent is hard, and he is surprised that she had made it as far down as she did without dropping the egg. But his feet eventually find themselves on solid ground, and she is waiting for him.
"I wonder how many more there are hidden in here," she muses, her gaze looking out over the still unexplored parts of the expansive cave.
"Perhaps we can come back and find out some other time."
She gives a reluctant nod before bending down to get the purple egg. Jon offers her the torch, but she shakes her head and holds her injured hand out for the blue egg that he had rescued. Once she safely holds the two eggs, he picks up the third and starts to lead the way out of the cave.
"How are we going to hatch them?" he asks when they take a moment to rest, leaning back against the wall of the cave when he notices that she had been lagging behind a bit.
Daenerys stares down at the dragon eggs that she holds for a long moment. "I hatched the others in the funeral pyre for my husband. I was thinking we could build a pyre for Missandei. But I don't know if that will be enough."
"If it worked before, why wouldn't it work again?" he asks.
"Because my son's body was also in the pyre… and the witch who murdered them was tied to the pyre before it was lit. Three lives in exchange for three dragons. But now all we have is Missandei."
"We can still try. If fire won't hurt you or them, then we will just have to try again if this fails."
She nods and gives him a small smile.
Jon watches the maester finish wrapping her hand back up, the cut cleaned and stitched. He had had to talk her into accepting the milk of the poppy, and it had put her to sleep early in the process. Moving down the bed, he carefully unlaces her boots and pulls them off of her feet. When he tries to move the purple dragon egg that she still has clutched to her side, her arm unconsciously tightens around it in sleep.
A faint smile on his face, he hopes that the dragons in her dreams tonight fair much better than the nightmares that had been plaguing her recently. "Good night, Dany," he whispers, leaning down to press a soft kiss against her forehead before extinguishing the candles at her bedside and making his way out of her chambers.
"Ser Davos has sent word that the army is at the Trident and should reach the city within a week. It is time that we plan our attack on the city, especially now that it must look quite different without the assistance of the dragons that we had anticipated," Tyrion states as the group is gathered around the painted table.
"Cersei will not accept defeat. Not when she knows our army is weakened from the war in the north. Not when she knows there is only one dragon left, and that dragon can be eliminated just as the others were," Varys adds.
"We can still defeat her without the dragons. Your people believe in you, Dany. My people are loyal to me, and though they may still not be overly fond of you, they despise the Lannisters. All Cersei has are those that she either intimidates into fighting for her or pays to do so," Jon provides assurances though he knows that her advisors' points are valid.
They all study the table for a moment before her hand speaks again. "I propose a different tactic, Your Grace, one that we had planned to use before. We lay seige to the city. Cut off access to any food and other goods from the outside. It may take longer than a fight, but eventually we will win."
"And who is going to suffer the most from the seige? Cersei?" Daenerys looks at her hand then. "No, she will remain perfectly comfortable in the Red Keep. Instead it will be my people who are starving to death, the same innocent people that you wanted to protect before. If we would not take the easier road of burning the city until it surrenders, then we shall not starve it into submission either."
The room is silent for a few moments while they all ponder other options. No one can argue her logic when they all had fought to prevent her from raining fire down on the city with the dragons.
"Unless…" she says softly, standing and moving around the table until she is looking at Storm's End. "Ser Davos saved Stannis Baratheon during Robert's Rebellion by smuggling food in to Storm's End, did he not?"
"Yes, Your Grace," Tyrion replies for the group.
"What if we had him smuggle food into King's Landing?"
Varys gives a sly smile, "Distribute it amongst our people. Show them that Daenerys Targaryen is taking care of them while Cersei and those loyal to her are the ones suffering. Eventually they will either tire of her and force her out of the city or will fight alongside us when we do breach the city walls."
"You, of course, would also be instrumental in aiding with this given your network, Lord Varys," the queen adds, then looks to Jon. "You think Ser Davos would be agreeable to this?"
"Aye. He grew up in Fleabottom, and I think he will be happy that someone finally cares about the less fortunate who live in the city," he replies, pleased to see that she had been able to move past her grief in order to come up with a solution that held up to the great things he had heard about her.
"And in the meantime, we form alliances with the rest of the Seven Kingdoms," Dany gestures to the rest of the map. "We strip away any bit of power Cersei has left until all she rules is the castle itself."
"You already have allies with the North and the Iron Islands. Perhaps we start with the Vale and Riverlands and work our way south from there?" her hand suggests. "The Tulleys and Arryns have ties to the Starks; given your tentative alliance with the former King in the North who was raised by Ned Stark, it should be relatively easy to get those two kingdoms to acknowledge you as their queen."
"Rhaegal and I shall fly you wherever you wish to go, Your Grace," Jon Snow volunteers, eyes locking onto hers.
Before she can thank him, Tyrion is cutting in. "Your Grace, the best way to form strong alliances is through marriage. I think it best that you have someone more… knowledgeable present to advise you and aid in negotiations."
Her eyes linger on Jon, who has dropped his gaze, before she looks around the table at her advisors. "Lord Tyrion has spoken to me at length of the men of Westeros who may be suitable choices for king. If there are any other opinions on the matter, I shall hear them now."
Several long moments pass in silence, and her violet eyes again pass around the table.
"Then I shall use my judgment as queen to accept a marriage alliance if I deem it is in the best interest in reuniting the Seven Kingdoms. Jon Snow and I shall leave in two days."
Grey Worm carefully positions Missandei's body on the funeral pyre that had been built on the cliffs of Dragonstone. Once he has had time to say goodbye, Dany steps forward to do the same. She carefully places the purple dragon egg on one side of her friend, and Jon hands her the other two before moving back to the small group that had gathered to pay their respects. When the blue and orange eggs are also laid out next to Missandei, she places her hand over her friend's cold one as she whispers her goodbye.
Daenerys then moves to stand in between Jon and Grey Worm. After a few moments, she glances at the latter, who gives her a small nod to proceed. She turns to look past Jon at Rhaegal, who had joined the group near the funeral pyre. Her hear fluttering with nerves that he wouldn't obey her - and that the eggs would not hatch - she says, "Dracarys."
The green dragon lifts his head up and release a blaze of fire at the pyre.
Her gaze remains fixed on the fire in front of her as her hand reaches out to take Jon's. His fingers wrap around hers, giving them a gentle squeeze of encouragement. Several silent minutes pass, the entire group watching the pyre consumed by the dragon fire.
And then her hand drops from his as she slowly walks forward. She lets her cloak fall into the grass before she reaches the fire. Once she completely disappears into the flames, Jon looks around at the faces of awe that surround him.
Rhaegal moves closer to the edge of the fire as it dies out, and Jon's eyes search for her in the darkness. Just as he sees the moonlight reflecting off of her silver hair, the dragon lets out a roar. He gets to his feet and moves toward her. The ground surrounding her becomes too hot even through his boots, and he is forced to stop.
Dany smiles at him, and it is then that he sees the dark dragon wrapped around her neck, half hidden by her hair. A second tiny dragon climbs up onto her knee from her lap.
"The orange?" he asks when a third dragon does not appear.
Her smile dims slightly as she shakes her head and places her hand on the egg that rests next to her. She looks at him for a long moment before standing, the blue dragon wrapping around her leg and giving a small shriek in protest.
Jon grabs her cloak from the ground as the others behind him start to move closer to see the miracle that she had made happen once again. She has moved closer to him now, and as he wraps the fabric around her shoulders, the dragon at her neck stirs. It moves out from around her neck as he fastens the cloak, standing on her shoulder and stretching its wings to reveal a shade of purple similar to Dany's eyes. Dany feels a twinge of sorrow as the dragon's actions remind her of Drogon when she had first emerged from the flames with him on her shoulder.
She carefully hands him the orange egg as she is surrounded by others eager to see the new dragons. The egg is pleasantly warm in the chill of the night, and his heart leaps when he feels a movement from deep within the shell. If their ancestors did not walk into a fire to hatch their dragons, perhaps there is still hope for this egg yet.
His attention is drawn from the egg when Rhaegal looms over them, a soft growl coming from his throat as he looks down at the new dragon on her shoulder. The little purple dragon chirps, and the turquoise scampers out from under her cloak to join in.
Late in the afternoon, Jon finds her in her chambers. The two dragons leave her side and race toward him, their tiny wings flapping as they hop and hiss at him, when he enters. He kneels down and extends a hand, but they just look at him warily.
Dany approaches, and they both scramble up her body, the blue settling on her shoulder with its tail curled around her neck and the purple stands on her hand which she holds in front of her. Both hiss at him again when he stands and takes a few steps closer to her. "Jon is our friend," she tells them.
As they quiet, he gives her a smile, "I suppose this means you are indeed the Dragon Queen again."
"Did you come here to gloat about being right, Jon Snow?" she smirks.
"Never, Your Grace."
She takes another step forward and reaches for his hand with her free one, the one that has been wrapped once more to protect the cut on it. "I am grateful to you for this. I never expected this to be possible, and I thank you for having faith in me when I was doubting myself."
"Always, Dany."
They stare at each other for a long moment before she looks away, worried she will do something to jeopardize this tentative friendship between them after the collapse of their romantic relationship. "I was just going to feed them. Would you like to help me?"
"Aye," he says and follows her out onto the balcony attached to her chambers.
She sets the dragons on the table beside a plate of raw meat and takes a seat. He circles around the brazier next to the table to sit across from her and then picks up a piece of the meat and holds it out to the purple dragon.
Dany laughs, "They don't like it raw. But they don't like it cooked as we do either. I struggled to get them to eat anything the first time until they were able to cook their food for themselves."
He follows her lead, spearing the meat with a fork and holding it over the brazier to char the outside. "Have you named them yet?"
"No."
"And the orange egg?" he asks as he places the now semi-cooked meat in front of the dragon.
She shakes her head, "It was probably damaged in the fall from the ledge where the other two were found."
Jon turns sharply toward her then, "You didn't feel it?"
Her eyes search his face for a moment before she stands to retrieve the egg from her bed. As she approaches him, she says, "When I was given the dragon eggs at my wedding, I could feel… something when I touched the egg that was Drogon's. Like I knew it wasn't petrified as everyone had said. It wasn't as strong with the other eggs, but with this one, I've never felt anything at all."
He holds his hands out to take the egg from her and again feels a stirring underneath his fingertips as he touches it. "I can feel it, Dany. There is still a dragon in there."
The dragons start protesting at the humans' distraction, still hungry, and they prepare more food for them.
"Perhaps you should walk into the fire with it."
"I assure you I am not immune to fire, Your Grace. I feel as though I am already getting burned with my hand this close to the flame," he laughs. "We shall have to figure out how our ancestors did it without burning themselves."
"The eggs just hatched. Or at least that it was everyone told me," she shrugs. "Then again no one alive today was there nearly two centuries ago when the last dragons were hatched."
They continue feeding the dragons until the plate is empty. Jon sits back, the egg in his lap as he continues to watch them play together, and asks, "How long until they can feed themselves?"
"It was about a moon's turn until I taught Drogon to cook his own food. Perhaps now that I know better what to do and with Rhaegal's help they can learn sooner, though it will be a while until they're large enough to hunt for themselves."
"And flying?"
"They couldn't do any significant amount of flying for a few moons, just the awkward wing-flapping and hopping that you saw earlier. But I had to keep them in cages or locked in my room during much of that time for fear of them being stolen."
"I am not so sure that they are going to be safe now," he reluctantly admits. "My own people were still hostile toward you despite the fact that you were there to prevent all of us from dying. Then again, the wars that have consumed Westeros for the last several years have taken their toll, and people need a strong leader who wants to change things for the better. Perhaps the other kingdoms will be more accepting."
"Or hopefully they will at least hate Cersei enough to give me a chance." With their bellies full, the dragons jump up onto the railing of the balcony and curl up to nap in the rare sunshine of the late afternoon. Daenerys watches them, and though the grief and sadness over the loss of her other children and her friends and advisors is still there, she is grateful for these new children and the hope they have given her.
Jon pushes the empty plate to the side and reaches across the table to place his hand on her forearm. "Dany, there is something I need you to know before we leave tomorrow."
"What is it?" she lifts her other hand from her lap and places it over his.
His eyebrows furrow as he struggles with the fear at what his news will bring for them. "I don't want you to be angry with me."
"In spite of my anger at finding out who you really are and at everything I lost by going north to fight in your war, we have managed to rekindle our friendship over these last few days. There is nothing you can say now that would make me angry with you, Jon," she gives him a small smile of encouragement. "Well, unless you have changed your mind about being king."
Unsure exactly how to respond to this, he stays silent.
A pained expression crosses her face as she removes her hand from his. "After all of those times you assured me you have no interest in the Iron Throne - after all the encouragement you've given me to continue pursuing it when I lost everything and contemplated giving it up - now that we have a solid plan to take it without the loss of innocent lives, you want to take it all away from me?"
"No, Daenerys, that is not at all what I intend," he quickly reassures her.
She lifts an eyebrow in question, "If it isn't about you being king, then what is it you have to tell me?"
"I don't want to be the king," he repeats the words he had so often told her before. "But despite the difficulties that we have faced because of my true identity - in spite of the fact that we are related - I find myself wanting to be your king, Dany."
It is her turn to sit in silence, her expression unreadable.
"I know I had made it seem like I was no longer interested in you in that way, but as we've grown closer again I realize that I still love you. And maybe it should be awkward and wrong, but it doesn't feel that way to me; it's just as easy as it was before we knew the truth." His hand slips down her arm to cover hers. "I promise that the throne would be entirely yours; it has been your dream to rule the Seven Kingdoms, not mine, and I would only play whatever part in the politics of ruling that you want of me."
"Jon…" she whispers.
"I'm sorry to be laying this all out for you now with everything else going on. I just can't bear to fly off with you tomorrow and have to watch you be forced into another marriage alliance with a man you don't love in order to try to secure your position as queen. Not that I expect that you still love me or would even see me as suitable for marriage -"
Daenerys leans across the table then and presses her lips to his. After a brief moment of surprise, he eagerly responds to her kiss, having missed this intimacy with her over the past several weeks. When she finally pulls back, a faint blush colors her cheeks as she grins at him. "In case that wasn't answer enough, Jon Snow, I would be happy to have you at my side as king."
Pleased, he brings his hand up to the back of her neck and pulls her in for another kiss. Seconds later, a cracking sound causes them to separate, and he looks down at the broken egg in his lap. The orange dragon lifts its head from the shell and lets out a shriek, causing its siblings to wake from their nap. It looks from his face to hers, then stands and stretches its wings out before climbing up to sit on his shoulder.
She smiles at him and then reaches out to stroke the dragon's chin, "Well, it appears you are a true dragon now, Aegon Targaryen."
Though it isn't the same as the freed slaves welcoming her, the people line the streets to watch them walk through the city to the Red Keep. The three young dragons dip and dart around overhead, showing off their new flying abilities, while Rhaegal circles higher up, watching over for any lingering danger. Rather than the terror that the northerners had initially shown at the dragons, these people's faces are filled with wonder. A cheer goes up in the crowd as the reach they top of the castle stairs and turn back to look at their people.
Daenerys is smiling, but Jon can see the sadness in her eyes and knows she is feeling several absences today as she finally achieves her goal. "They would be proud of you," he whispers in her ear.
She turns her violet eyes from the crowd to him, grateful to have this man beside her as she claims the throne.