"The Falcon is en route," The bodyguard reported.
Daenerys despised her code name. Falcon. Compared to the other code names of the family, Dragon, Eagle, Swan, and Raven, Falcon was terribly underwhelming. The falcon was a bird people trained to hunt for them. It was a bird for enjoyment, not a bird that commanded respect.
Stepping through the automatic airport doors, her eyes and ears were assaulted. The flash of cameras and the shouts of the paparazzi were much louder than she remembered. After six years in Essos, she supposed she'd lost her resistance to them.
As the car door shut behind her, the security detail fell in line. Ser Jorah sat in the backseat beside her, with another guard in the passenger seat and an armed chauffeur. The sirens on the police cars started up and they pulled away from King's Landing International Airport and into the busy streets.
The airport was located in the new city. An entrancing view of sleek and modern high rise buildings. Business headquarters, vegan restaurants, and clothing stores advertised themselves in the clear windows. It was the place of the nouveau riche and trendsetters, properly distanced from the mansions of the old money.
As they entered the old city, Dany remembered why she wanted to leave so badly. The air still smelled terrible and people crowded the streets. When Dany applied to the esteemed Braavos University, they were more than ecstatic to accept a member of the Westerosi royal family. Dany was just as excited to leave King's Landing.
Studying overseas was the best decision. People cared less about what was going on in Westeros and weren't phased when Dany and her security officer were out and about. Granted, there were still a few paps waiting outside her apartment but it was a much-needed reprieve from her life in Westeros.
People stopped and gawked at the heavy vehicles maneuvering the narrow streets. Did they know Dany was back, or were they waiting on an official announcement from the crown? She missed being able to smile at people as she passed them and take in the sun, instead she was hidden away under an armored hood and tinted windows.
She tore her gaze away from the saturated image of the world around her and looked at herself in the rearview. The bags under her eyes hadn't improved and her skin was dry from the airplane air. She was in no shape to see her family again. They expected a perfect princess and the best she could give them was a tired college student.
"Everything alright, Your Highness?"
The voice of Ser Jorah brought her back to reality.
"Nothing," she assured Jorah, "It just feels weird to be back."
"I know what you mean. A few years of people not giving you a second glance and now everyone's on your arse."
The chauffeur coughed to show his distaste for Jorah's language, to which he muttered an apology. Dany chuckled. They had grown too relaxed while in Essos, too comfortable with each other. That would have to change.
Of course it hadn't always been like that. When Jorah was first assigned to Dany, he took his duties with extreme seriousness, as they were drilled into him by years of experience. But when she had a breakdown while studying for her Essos Political Science class, he broke protocol and offered her solace. An odd friendship grew between them and soon enough she had Jorah trying to drink her under the table at college parties.
Despite people in Braavos not caring about Westerosi politics, they hesitated to befriend a royal. Probably afraid of the customs and rules that came with it. There was one girl in her Valyrian Studies class that managed to get over that fear, Missandei from Naath. Dany wished Missandei was with her.
The motorcade came to the front gates of the Red Palace. It had once been a great keep built of red stone that looked over the whole city, but Dany's ancestors had a great love for the grand mansions in Essos and had the Red Keep destroyed and replaced with a sprawling palace in red marble. It looked even more imposing than the original. Although Dany had only seen portraits of the old keep, she knew the pinkish stone couldn't have put fear into the hearts of those that would steal it.
Her ancestors knew what they were doing because the sight of it filled Dany with dread. Years of lessons and protocol, always in the shadow of her older brothers. She tasted freedom in Essos and was now expected to give all of it up to fit the family mold. She took a deep breath in an attempt to control the increasing speed of her heart.
The iron gate opened with the grace and opulence it commanded, allowing the princess through. The cars took their usual arc around the enormous fountain in the front courtyard. A silver scene of three dragons breathing water instead of fire. Come to think of it, Dany hated that fountain too.
She slid out of the car, trying to move quickly so the paparazzi outside the gates couldn't capture her dressed in leggings and athletic sneakers. Varys would have her head if even an inch of her body got published in something so casual. She added the dress code to the mental list of grievances she started when her plane landed.
Petyr Baelish, Lord Chamberlain and resident pain-in-the-ass, met her inside the doors, matching her brisk pace through the cavernous entry hall. Their footfalls echoed in the space, a haunting sound.
"Princess Daenerys, it is so good to see you again."
"Wish I could say the same to you," she deadpanned.
Baelish was never her friend and Dany was more than willing to take out her frustrations on him.
He sighed and continued, "As I'm sure you know, the annual charity gala is tonight. The seamstress has already prepared selections for you to choose from and is waiting in your room. I suggest you hurry there."
Dany rolled her eyes.
"It would also be in your best interest to know that the King of the North, Eddard Stark, and three of his children will be in attendance tonight," Baelish reported.
"The King of the North?"
"Yes. And his three children. Crowned Prince Jon, Prince Robb, and Princess Sansa."
"What are they doing down here?"
The North was an independent country. When the last in the line of Aegon's to conquer Westeros reached the North, he respected Torren Stark's refusal to kneel, leaving them independent from the United Kingdoms of Westeros, but not without repercussions. The North was cut off from the rest of Westeros, no access to trade or military support. Members of the royal family hadn't traveled south in a hundred years.
As far as Dany was concerned they were a boring lot. Their names were rarely mentioned in the tabloids and they never did press interviews. They never appeared on TV and the paparazzi seemed uninterested. The complete opposite of the Targaryen family, whose faces were plastered on every magazine cover and nightly news editorial, who existed to be seen in the best of lights at all times.
"The charity represented tonight is the champion cause of His Majesty, Eddard Stark. The palace extended an invitation to them and they accepted," Baelish explained.
Dany hummed in acceptance of his statement, but she had the suspicion there was something deeper going on. Rhaegar learned from their ancestors to always have an ulterior motive, to never allow a stranger into your home unless the stranger had something to offer. That philosophy was one Dany lived by, although she employed it specifically for romantic partners.
Another set of footsteps entered the hall. Her heart lurched at the excited patter of little feet, icy exterior dissolving.
"Auntie Dee! You're home."
Her niece and nephew, Rhaenys and Aegon, sprinted through the corridor. She bent down to hug them, giving them kisses on their foreheads. She didn't want to let them go. The ache in her chest reminded her of just how much she missed them.
"How long are you going to be home this time, Dany?" Rhaenys asked, hope in her dark eyes.
"I don't know yet, Your Royal Highness,"
"Longer than a day right?" Aegon begged.
"I think I can manage that."
The children's governess appeared from around the corner, red-faced and out of breath.
"I'm so sorry, Your Highness, they saw your car pull through the front gates and took off. I told them that you'd want to be alone, but it appears they no longer listen to me."
"Don't worry about it, I'm glad to see them," Dany assured the woman.
"Do we have to go back to lessons?" whined Aegon.
"We'd much rather spend time with you!"
Dany laughed, "I'm afraid your lessons are more important than me. How else can you become the greatest Queen and Prince there ever was?"
The kids groaned but didn't protest when Dany took their hands and led them back up the stairs. The whole way back Rhaenys and Aegon filled her in on how well regular school was going and all of the friends they made. And she praised them for their wonderful jobs and promised to see them as soon as she could before handing them off to the governess.
As soon as she turned around, there was Baelish, looking rather upset at the distraction.
"Your Highness, if you would please pick up the pace. Or you'll go to the gala half-dressed and Gods know we do not need another headline like yesterday."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Of course, she did know. Maybe drinking Red Priestess vodka all night was a terrible idea, but in her defense, she wasn't buying the drinks. Braavosi custom dictated that it was rude to refuse a drink when someone else was buying.
"I see. And the topless sunbathing incident with the Khal off the coast of the Summer Isles? That wasn't you either?"
"What are you implying?"
"Your Highness, your exploits in Essos are not lost on Westeros. People talk and what they have to say isn't nice."
Dany rolled her eyes, "So what? Dragons don't care about the opinions of sheep. Besides Baelish, if there was an issue here Rhaegar would've told me."
She lied straight through her teeth. Obviously, Rhaegar said something about her behavior. And she was confident Baelish knew too.
"Of course, Your Highness. Whatever you say."
Baelish made a gesture for her to walk ahead of him as they approached her apartments.
They hadn't changed since her graduation from secondary school. She ran her hand over the painted walls. Scenes of courtyards, gardens, and ancient castles painted like they were straight from a medieval manuscript. She tapped her finger on the nose of a princess engaged in a dance with a prince, as she did every time she passed. The princess was supposed to be the fair Alysanne but there was a surprising lack of a dragon anywhere near.
The plush bed looked inviting and Dany could feel the exhaustion under her eyes. She had too much to think about and doubted sleep would come easily. When she turned the corner she laid eyes on Elia Martell, resting on the ottoman in the closet through another set of archways. She stood and opened her arms.
Dany ran to her sister-in-law, crushing her in a hug, the familiar perfume of floral citrus filled her nose. Elia squeezed back and rubbed Dany's back reassuringly.
"I'm sure you know all about it," Dany sighed into Elia's chest.
"I shouldn't tell you this," she warned, "but Rhaegar was very upset."
"I figured."
"Dany, how did this happen?"
"Elia, I don't know! I wasn't even drunk."
The in-house seamstress was well prepared for Dany's arrival. A rack of red gowns waited for her. Red was Dany's favorite and she always wore it to important functions, much to the dismay of Varys. He claimed the color was too bold and harsh for a young, unmarried princess.
"Either way, there's a stinking mess and it's stressing Rhaegar out. If his hair wasn't already so light, it would be turning grey. And who was that man you were leaning on?"
Dany ran her hand over the expensive fabrics. Velvets and silks, embroidered with silver and detailed in black, dramatic and rich. They were perfect for pushing the envelope during an evening amongst high born and elite.
"Daario Naharis."
Dany selected the first dress and held it up to her frame. Dark red knit with a shimmer. Shape hugging with a slit up the back and low cut neckline. She stepped behind the privacy screen to try it on, slipping out of her regular clothing.
"You mean the Tyroshi tech millionaire?"
"His father's the millionaire. Daario will just inherit all of it," Dany called from behind the screen.
"Why do Rhaenys and Aegon have lessons? It's summer."
"I wanted to make sure it was just you and I today."
The seamstress zipped up the dress and Dany stepped out and onto the fitting platform. As she turned about, her many reflections mimicked her and the sparkling dress she wore.
"What do you think?" she stuck out her right leg to accentuate the slit.
"It's a little plain," a voice said from the doorway.
Dany whipped her head around to see her best friend all the way from Essos.
"Missy!"
She hiked the skirt away from her feet and charged at her friend, wrapping her arms around the girl's slim frame. They had only been apart a couple of days but Dany already missed the comforting aura of her best friend.
"What are you doing here? I thought you had a family emergency in Naath," Dany questioned.
"That's just where my flight connected. Elia called me a few days ago and told me I should be here."
Elia gave Dany a playful glance. So they'd been scheming to drag her back to King's Landing for a while. It made sense, foreign royalty breaking protocol to visit the southern court required all senior members of the family to be present. But Dany wasn't exactly a model of Southern excellence and pride, she spent six years trying to ignore it.
"Well, it's good you're here. I need someone to agree with me on everything."
The seamstress coughed, a sound of acute annoyance, and Dany left her best friend's arms to try on the next option. A crimson A-line piece in chiffon, dark and flowy.
"Are you sure you don't need someone to make sure your boobs stay in your dress?"
Elia snickered but Dany rolled her eyes.
"We get it! I made a bad decision and it came back to bite me in the ass. Add it to the list."
Dany let out a strangled breath as the seamstress pulled the ties tight around her. The dress was supposed to flow, why did it need to be so tight? She stepped back up to the platform.
"I like that one," Elia offered.
"Too sweet," Missy and Dany said at the same time.
She stepped down and back behind the screen, the seamstress undressing her again.
The last time she tried on that many dresses was for Rhaegar's coronation. They were still mourning for King Aerys so everyone was dressed in black, somber and subdued in a time of celebration. Dany remembered the dress she chose. Strapless, black a-line, covered in dark flowers that turned silver at the bottom. She remembered standing in the front row of the Sept, weighed down with silver jewelry and watching Rhaegar ascend the steps. And all she could think of at that moment was their father and how gaudy and disrespectful it all felt.
The seamstress pulled the ties of the next dress painfully tight and sent her off. The soft red satin pleated around her chest in structured pleats like a seashell. It hugged her hip and gathered into a burst, fanning around her feet. Dany did a few turns and twists, her many reflections copying her.
"That's the one," Missy praised.
Elia hummed in agreement. The more conservative fashion columnists would shame her for the lack of straps and the figure-hugging shape, calling it a degradation of traditional values rooted in their precious religion. But the nu-age reporters, the ones who preached secularism and progression, would hail it for the strong stance it promoted. When Dany just wanted to tick off her brother and their stuffy court.
On her way to change Dany said, "We can figure out the jewels later. We need to discuss my fall from grace."
She wrapped a black silk robe around herself and walked straight onto the settee at the end of her bed, turned, and let herself fall. The thick duvet and memory foam mattress broke her fall. Missandei crawled up beside her and stroked her silver hair.
"Remember at Galazza's lecture when she said that there's no such thing as bad publicity?"
"I'm afraid it doesn't work that way for royalty. We try to keep our names out of the papers these days," Elia stated as she appeared at Dany's side. "The more invisible we appear, the more the public likes us. Although they seem to love when we dress up and spend time among them."
Her dark hair fell over her shoulder. They used to have girls' nights where they would watch sappy movies, eat popcorn, and braid each other's hair. They always watched a dated Dornish film about a Rhoynish prince disguised as a Meereenese pit fighter. Dany would always gush about the leading man. Elia mentioned she went to school with him and they dated for a brief time. She wondered what Elia's life would be like if it weren't for the arranged marriage between her and Rhaegar.
"I need a drink," Dany pouted, sitting up.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Missy asked, the tone in her voice made it clear what she was referencing.
"If I'm going to get through this evening of ass kissers and sticks-in-the-mud, I'm going to need something stiff."
"I think alcohol is the last thing you need," Elia said sternly.
"This is so unfair. If I were a man and that picture got out, this wouldn't be an issue-"
"Dany," Elia warned.
"-but because I'm a woman my boob is deemed offensive and-"
"Dany!"
She looked to Elia, who never snapped at her, with wounded eyes.
"I know you're upset and that's understandable. But it's our lives. So please, do me a favor, and deal with it."
Missandei watched Elia with enraptured interest. She'd never seen someone put Dany in her place before. But then again, Dany was usually in the right.
"How long am I going to be stuck here?"
"What?" Missy asked.
"We called Dany home because she needed a time out," Elia explained to Missandei before turning her attention back on Dany, "And that's indefinite for right now. You need to tell me more about this Daario."
"We've been hooking up for a year and he wants to make it official."
"Well I hope you told him no," Elia gasped.
"Don't worry about it Elia, he won't be coming to Westeros anytime soon. And Rheagar would never let me formally date a Tyrohsi."
"Why?" Missandei asked, she'd never been a big fan of Daario.
"The monarchy is already in a delicate position because we represent an outdated establishment. Allowing Dany to seriously entertain a foreign millionaire would make us seem unpatriotic." Elia stroked Dany's hair and tucked it behind her ear.
"Your Majesty, the hairdresser has arrived," Elia's assistant reported.
She sighed and got up, brushing the wrinkles out of her pants.
"I'll see you two at the gala."
Dany groaned and Missandei giggled, "You still have to find me a dress."
