"She doesn't look very awake to me, Jon," said a suspicious voice quite close to Dany's face.
Dany's eyes fluttered open and she was greeted by the blurry, narrow-eyed look of Willa staring overtop of her much too close a distance for waking up. "Ah, never mind."
Scrunching her eyes to try and clear the film of sleep away, when Dany reopened them she saw Willa at a more comfortable distance from her face, as well as a few new additions to the household. Enda and Nerell hovered near the door, both peering over curiously at Dany. Tormund had already made himself at home and was tucking into some of the leftover porridge Jon had made for Dany earlier. And Rose. Rose in her father's arms. Rose safe. Rose back home.
Before even speaking, Dany reached her arms out sleepily for her daughter. Rose understood immediately, squirming in Jon's arms to reach Dany. Seeing the exchange, Willa wordlessly helped Dany to slowly sit up so that Dany could take Rose as Jon passed her over, sitting her next to Dany's side on the bed to make sure she didn't hurt the baby or Dany's bruised stomach.
"Rytsas issa tala," Dany murmured, "Issa Rosie." She wound a slender finger through Rose's delicate brown curls that now hung to her shoulder.
"Mama," Rose said, placing a tiny hand on Dany's cheek.
"Mama's here," Dany told her, "Mama's right here."
For a moment, mother and daughter sat simply enjoying being with each other. Rose mimicked Dany, reaching to pat her mother's hair and grinning when Dany smiled at her. Effectively breaking the moment, Willa asked Dany, "Should we all pat your face now that you're awake?"
Although it was not the most pleasant feeling for Dany to sit in a chair, she felt strange in the bed with everyone in her house and had shakily been helped to the table where Tormund, Willa, and Jon had all taken up seats.
It had taken some coaxing, but Nerell and Enda were now situated on the floor, Rose toddling between them. Another missed moment, Dany thought sadly as she watched her daughter take steps that weren't her first. Rose had, indeed, walked in the house for the first time. But it had been Jon and Willa to witness it, Dany unconscious like she had been when Rose said "Mama." Still, her chest swelled with pride each time she watched Rose make it from Nerell to Enda or back, having to walk further each time.
"How have they been?" Dany asked quietly, watching Enda stretch out her arms for Rose. The blonde girl's smile seemed more like a motion than a genuine feeling, as if she knew that what was Rose wanted, but could not relate.
Willa shrugged. "Sad," she said, her voice taking on a drained quality, "Quiet. They'll answer questions, but they haven't been talking much. Even to the other kids. You can tell they're listening when people speak, but I maybe hear five words a day from each of them. We've been trying very hard to keep them from being isolated. It's hard, you know? I can heal...but not something this deep."
"We need to figure out who will take them in soon," Tormund added, "Willa's house is...just too crowded for it to be permanent, but it's hard. They seem to feel so alone in the world, and we can't give them what they need."
Jaw set, Willa nodded, looking exceedingly frustrated. Dany knew she must not want to agree, but Tormund was right and was saying it nicely. Having two children would mean major changes to Willa's lifestyle and home, and Dany knew that her friend couldn't do that even with Tormund's help.
Alone in the world. Dany's heart sunk at Tormund's words. Enda and Nerell were so young. Sure they were old enough to hunt elk, but they weren't old enough to set off on their own. It reminded her of Sansa, cut off from her childhood by bloodlust and cruelty. And of her own childhood, losing her parents and guardians even younger than Nerell and hopping from Free City to Free City, taken in by the wealthy for amusement and then sent away when the "Targaryenness" lost its charm. Never a permanent place to grow up. Never a home or a true family. Just the few memories of sunlit, happier times that smelled of spices and always had a red door welcoming her. She was never certain those memories were real.
Home was never real or tangible. Until she met Jon.
Her husband returned her gaze with a curious expression, seeming on the verge of speech and even beginning to open his mouth, but Willa spoke instead. "That can be decided when we're with the rest of the clan and they'll stay with us until then. First we need to figure out whether or not this was a one-time invasion."
"Have any other ships been spotted?" Dany asked, blood running cold. Willa spoke as if more had happened.
Tormund shook his head. "No, but we know one of the people who attacked you got away. Willa said there were five men and we only found four bodies and not boat that they came on. We did see the ship the slavers came from and kept watch until it started heading south."
"That doesn't mean they're leaving for good," Dany said, "Not if they know there are dragons still in the North."
"I hardly think they'll be back very quickly after their men got scorched and frozen at the same time," Willa scoffed. Agreeably, Tormund nodded with what Willa said and even Jon, who looked at dragons differently than anyone else she knew, appeared appeased at the idea that having a dragon defense meant the slavers would go elsewhere. Why does everyone think that a dragon is the key to success? When Dany thought of dragons, she thought of Viserion and Rhaegal. Of Drogon in the fighting pits of Mereen. Nothing is infallible.
Dany shook her head. None of them understood that. Even if the slavers were going elsewhere, they still came here initially. They still would have gone kidnap and murder, most likely at another village along the coast - Shadowedge wasn't the only one - and then they would be back. Others would come too. All the same as Kraznys, she thought bitterly, all thinking they could be infallible.
"They'll be back," she said firmly, "Because of the dragons."
"What do you mean? Not that we've had much of a choice at the start, but my first instinct would have been to stay as far away from any whiff of dragon as possible."
Though her interest was piqued by Willa's last words, Dany pushed herself to answer the initial question. To make all of them understand. "Dragons are different in Essos," Dany started, "In Westeros, all they've ever been viewed as is someone else's weapon. Something to be feared, even if it's protecting you. Just like you said. Westerosi hold survival and self-preservation in high regard, which usually means looking down upon anything foreign or strange.
"But in Essos...in Essos dragons can be your weapon," Dany said, looking to Jon, who had heard how Dany got the Unsullied and of her dragons' kidnapping in Qarth. "Legends in Westeros are all about slaying wild dragons, surviving against them until Aemon Targaryen conquered the Seven Kingdoms. But dragons came from Essos - whether you believe it to be the Fourteen Flames, Asshai, the moon over Qarth - and the legends are about how the Valyrians tamed the dragons. If they could, why can't others? Any Essosi could have Valyrian blood from the old empire. So if a single woman sold to the savage Dothraki could have three at her command, why couldn't others?
"They've seen the success of dragons - even if it wasn't to their benefit, even if that success came with a horrifying price - where the Westerosi have only ever seen the destruction. The downfall of letting in the new. Essosi want that success. That's why they'll be back, whether that's here or where Drogon and Saphira are now. What are the few slaves that would survive the journey back to Essos compared with dragons?"
Dany could tell that her words had struck a chord. Jon's appeasement had changed to a brooding frown and she could tell that he was going over what she had said again and again. Both Tormund and Willa looked apprehensively at each other, a hint of the shadow of fear from the slavers flashed behind Tormund's blue eyes. It must be hard to see a warrior like Dorand fall, Dany surmised. Tormund and Dorand were so much alike, though their paths had been so different: uniting everyone or keeping one family alive. But they had both ended up in Shadowedge and stayed put for their loved ones. For one to die and leave his behind...his fear doesn't make him any less strong.
"They'll be back here, then," Willa said finally, seeming to have digested everything quickly, accepted it would happen, and looked to Dany again to remain in the present. "And that's the last news we have: the dragons haven't left."
It had been a short battle of the wills with Dany and Tormund against Jon and Willa, but in the end, Dany found herself victoriously (albeit slowly) walking out of the house and the clearing with Tormund in the lead.
With a quick word of "you're in charge" to Enda (who merely nodded, not looking up from watching Rose play), the four had left as Dany insisted she see Drogon. He hadn't left her again. Dany was still shocked at the explanation: how Drogon and Saphira had come just in time to save the party of children, Dany, and Willa on the beach from the slavers, how they had then been circling above until Jon and the other villagers came to help, and how everyone thought they had disappeared back into the frozen wastes until Jon walked outside the next morning to feed Embar and came face to face with a huge black head peering around the side of the house.
Initially, Drogon had been extremely defensive of the little clearing Dany and Jon called home. He was loath to let Willa come on the first day until, in true Willa fashion, the huge dragon was sternly reprimanded. "I remembered you once saying about how intelligent they could be so I kindly told him to fuck off, that he did his part and now it's time to let me take care of his mother," Willa recounted.
"I was listening," Jon chimed in, smiling at the memory, "It wasn't kindly."
After that, Drogon became slightly more docile as far as dragons go, but still periodically appeared in the clearing each day. Jon's catchphrases had become, "She's still not awake" and "Don't eat the horse," but he wasn't sure Drogon understood (although Embar was still in the barn and not in the dragon's stomach).
On the second day, while Willa and Tormund had come with Rose, Jon decided to follow Drogon when he left the clearing. He and Tormund only had to go a short distance before the air turned colder and they came upon a huge ice-white form with two small silver forms curled up together under the heart tree in The Gods' Clearing. Like Drogon, she had been quite defensive at first meeting, but recognized Jon immediately, as did her two children. Jon described her as much more shy than Drogon, and very docile compared to when she was nesting. She watched lazily while the Scarlet and Violet curiously greeted Jon and Tormund and barely batted an enormous blue eye when Willa met them as well.
They had not let any of the children or villagers meet the dragons yet, though all of them knew they were around as Drogon had flown over Shadowedge a few times since the first day on the beach. And the whole of Shadowedge felt the effects of having Saphira nearby. It seemed that although Saphira was not freezing everything to the point of certain death anymore, her presence did still make the world around her much colder.
"It balances out a little with Drogon near her, like he's the opposite and makes the world warmer. But she's a much stronger influence," Jon was saying as he now walked towards The God's Clearing, holding Dany's hand to help her along. He had moved past telling her that it was a bad idea to go when she had just woken from being barely conscious for a week, though Willa was still looking mildly sour. "People thought that the Targaryen dragons made the summers longer, and that when they started dwindling, the winters became harsher and crueler. Maybe there was some truth to it."
"I never really noticed how my dragons affected the seasons because it was always hot in Essos," Dany replied, trying to keep the tired from her voice. Though she didn't want to admit it, Jon and Willa had probably been right about exerting herself too hard. But she needed to see Drogon. The ache was greater than anything her body felt right now, and Willa had begrudgingly agreed that taking a short walk would not hurt the baby or Dany. "And there were only three of them for such a short while in Westeros, so we couldn't have noticed anything there either. But you could be right. Maybe ice dragons are the opposite."
As she said this, Tormund and Willa stopped ahead, right at The Gods' Clearing's treeline. Dany was struck with the memory of the last time she stood here, beneath the stars waiting to take another step towards her future and her future husband. The squeeze of his hand told her he remembered the same. But the joy of their wedding and the news of their new baby seemed far away now.
Drogon is good news, though, Dany reminded herself, regardless of what else he brings.
The first thing she saw in the clearing, however, was not the black shape of her child or the massive translucently white Saphira, but a zooming silver dragon roughly the size of an eagle flying pell-mell at Willa's head, scooting to a halt just before it crashed and flapping to hover in mid-air. From the reddish sheen on its scales when the sun caught it, Dany knew this was the Scarlet; virtually a silver copy of Drogon that young - and maybe Saphira too, though Saphira probably would have been much larger.
"Why do you always do that, Nut?" the healer scolded crabbily, although she stroked the baby dragon's cheek gently, eliciting growling purrs from the hatchling.
"Nut?" Dany asked incredulously, glancing at Willa and then Jon and Tormund, who shrugged and rolled his eyes.
"The reddish one is Nutmeg and the purple one is Lavender," Willa said as if it were the most obvious fact.
Tormund pursed his lips. "Not exactly names for dragons," he grumbled.
"Who made you the authority on dragon naming?" Willa snapped playfully, now stroking both hatchlings as the Violet - er, Lavender? - had flown over as well.
Behind the two infant dragons, Dany glimpsed both Drogon and Saphira coming from under the weirwood tree. Perhaps it was because both times she had met Saphira, her body was in a traumatized state of near-freezing or death, but Dany had remembered her being a lot smaller.
She had heard legends among the free folk, and Jon's recounting of Old Nan's tales as well, about the ice dragons being massive creatures of living ice that could swallow ships whole and freeze entire seas with their breath, but never believed they were real. Legends were, of course, based in some fact, but Dany always thought that there were simply wild dragons in the North, becoming more fantastical with time. Now, seeing Saphira with fresh eyes, she realized how wrong that assumption was.
The dragon really did look to be made of living ice, her scales crystalline and translucent as if they could melt from too much sun. The little sun that was peeking through into the clearing refracted of the tips of her spinal plates, throwing thousands of tiny rainbows across the clearing and even across the jet-black scales of her mate.
With relief, Dany saw that Drogon seemed much less sick than the last time she had seen him. He was no longer dull and pathetic-looking, his scales had a vibrance greater than the rainbows dancing across his body and although Saphira was much larger, Drogon was equally imposing. To an outsider, Dany imagined he would still be the one to strike more fear into their heart, for he looked much more menacing in the stark contrast of black against white and red weirwood leaves. But to Dany, Drogon looked relaxed and relieved.
While Saphira stopped a length from the small knot of people, Drogon continued until he was looking directly at Dany down his long snout. He inhaled deeply, flaring his nostrils like Embar would, but with much hotter breath that reminded her of summer. Tentatively, Dany reached up to stroke the black dragon's scaly nose. Her hand moved gently across the warm scales, and a small smile passed over her lips as Drogon's great eyes closed happily and his head lolled into her hand. The worry and pain, exhaustion and anxiety, that she had been feeling melted away as she traced along the map of her oldest child.
"Kesīr iksos aōha lenton," she murmured, "Kirimvose."
It seemed like a very "Willa" thing to name dragons after plants. Anyways, we'll continue Dany's journey of catching up to life in the next chapter. Until next time.