Wide obsidian eyes dart around while taking in the bustling crowd of red priests maneuvering throughout the gaps between the tiny city of tents. The young child hasn't been with the band of priests for but a couple moons.
'They're usually more orderly than this' the boy muses..
They have been taking down tents that had been used to house fellow practitioners all morning, carrying the various pelts, cloths and poles used to make the tents.
He's lucky his lady Quaithe's apprentice, so he doesn't have to worry about his sleeping area being taken.
"Oi, you runt, get out of the damn way" the voice jolts the boy as he dodges a wide pole about to swing into his head.
Spinning he turns to scowl at the stout man who spoke. He's the type of follower his lady mentioned was for fodder, cause they can only do parler tricks.
The man pays the boy no head and continues on with his task muttering how he didn't think he'd be put to manual labor for 'following a fucking torch'.
Just as he's about to tell the man his thoughts. His name is called.
"Xique", the familiar tone of his lady, brings a grin to his face. Making pace toward Quaithe he can't help but feel hero worship. His lady saved him from slavers, she saved Him, a lowly orphan. He's got a great debt to repay for all she's done for him.
When he reaches her she holds out her hand decorated with various jewels accenting her delicate fingers. Grabbing the woman's hand not before giving his greetings he follows her passing large piles of black and white wood. He knows of the Black-bark tree, but the white wood is new to him.
"What's happening?" He asks as she leads him away from the commotion. Turning his head back from straining his head over his shoulder he looks up at his masked guardian. The rays of the sun flickering off the metallic veil.
"We're going to revive the Mother of Dragons."
——-
Breaking through a giant cloud destroying its formation reveals the form of the second coming of the black dread, who has been flying for the last two days. The dragon hasn't stopped once, ever since the essence of the strange lady, they've only had one destination in mind. The lady being their only hope at getting their mother back.
They're able to see all the disgusting humans he flys over, the fire made of flesh has always been indifferent towards humans, their mother being the exception. Their siblings had a more tolerable outlook towards them, though if they could see their mother now would that still be the case?
The only reason he didn't burn that pup-dragon was because he was standing over his mother, and they weren't sure if their mothers body would have still been there if they roasted the halfling. Something told them their mother still had a chance. And at that point the dragon just wanted their mother, his siblings were dead, now their mother.
Again, they felt in their bones that they still had a chance to save her, the lady only certified the dragon. It was not amused to hear that tiny human demand them, a dragon to come to her. The dragon didn't want to but something told them this was the best way to regain their mother. With great reluctance and a severe promise of death, allowed the woman to enter their mind and show them the location.
They felt the essence of the weird one in the pushing seat who can merge into another's mind. But the silly human shouldn't have thought it would be so easy to enter theirs. A mere human entering such a great being's mind, no matter how much magic is in their blood. The thought makes the dragon almost huff in amusement. A mortal with magic flowing through them, doesn't compare to a being made of magic.
His mother is the closest one to understanding how intelligent they are, that dragons are, though even she can forget it at times. They may be a young dragon but they're one of the only dragons left. Magic has put a heavy burden on Drogon. Being one of the only beings left that brings magic into the world is daunting.
As the feeling of magic intensified, the great beast knew that their destination was closing in. As they lower themselves out of the cover of clouds they see a collection of red tents compiled into a makeshift village. Reminds the dragon of their mother's traversings back before. When their only worry was getting the big piece of meat before their siblings.
"Great R'hllor Look!"
"It's the Dragon!"
"The black Beast!"
The shouting of the people reaches the beast ears as they enclose in the area. Their wings pick up the dust from the ground as they land in the spot that is seemingly designated for them. As they land they make sure to carefully lower their mother on the ground, using the cover of the dust to curl protectively around her body not trusting them, but having no other choice.
With their mother safely tucked under them they watch as the dust settles. Preening at the wide awed gazes staring at them. Though they only care for anyone other than the masked one striding towards the field.
The woman seems to have a child clinging to her hand, but when she reaches Drogon they separate. She walks into the area they created for them, bowing before them.
"Your greatness, thank you for listening to me, being connected to your mind however short it was, was very enlightening. it honors me the trust you put into my people and I. Her Grace will be reborn by the will of R'Hllor." The dragon doesn't care for the silvery tongue of the woman. But knows they'll only stall if they interrupt.
"Would you allow my people to prepare your mother, you have my oath that they'll treat her with the utmost respect that the Queen deserves." The woman finishes sending a group a subtle glance stopping their stroll towards them.
She's waiting for their permission, it seems she's actually an intelligent mortal. Drogon knows their emotions are on edge with their mother being so close yet so far, if one would have attempted to get near without letting them have their moment…
Looking at the masked woman for a second the beast slowly nods before uncurling around their mother. The threatening growl that leaves the dragon as the group of humans carefully pick up their mother begrudgingly doesn't startle them as much as the great beast had hoped, but the smell of fear still clung to the air, so they'd say they succeeded.
Watching their mother being carried away almost made a kneeing noise escape them, but they'd never lower themselves in front of the puny humans.
"Don't worry mister dragon, lady Quaithe is the best, your mamma will be better in no time." The softly spoken words reach their ears as they curl into themselves willing themselves asleep until they're woken by their mother.
———-
"Nothing, there's nothing after you die" the words of Jon resonate in her head as she floats in an abyss of darkness. The last thing she remembers is the roar of her sweet Drogon.
'Is this nothing?' she thinks.
She or more accurately her soul floats in the bleak place, feeling like she's encased in water, without the strain of not being able to breathe. She doesn't need to breathe,honestly she doesn't need to do anything.
She doesn't have to feel anything if she so chooses to.
It's almost as if with a single ounce of will she could delete her own identity. She could get rid of all this grief, rage and regret. She wouldn't have to hurt anymore.
But her sweet Drogon?
He's all alone, but she's dead and she can't protect him. Not that she did a great job at that. her three other children were killed because of her selfishness. She still regrets locking them up, she let the fear of others control her when it came to her babies. She doesn't even want to think anymore on the subject, especially her sweet first born Rhaego.
She doesn't think she deserves to be with her family in the afterlife, nor does she deserve to be with Drogon. She brings nothing but destruction and death, but even with those thoughts she doesn't want to die, she still has much to do, or had.
'Is that selfish?' To want to live.
She just wants to hold her precious Drogon, she can't believe she ever let her emotions over her infatuation with Jon Snow control her. She shouldn't have let herself be diluted to the fantasies that she thought would happen. She shouldn't have done a lot of things but she can't do anything about that now.
Daenerys was lost in thought, so much so she never noticed how at the edge the bleak abyss a steadily growing flame started to form. The fire unnaturally red in its hues as it slowly starts to encase her soul.
Feeling a warmth enter her 'body' jolted Danny out of her thoughts. 'Blinking' at the sight in front of her she sees a beautiful fire pulsing. The warmth washes over her in waves as the ethereal flame envelops her. The comforting presence makes her mind go slack.
She's never felt something so tranquil. She lets out a gasp as flame like hands reach out of the fire with its brightest receding. The humanoid figure in front of her cups her face, the indistinguishable but male features creep closer as the being leans in for what seems like a kiss.
As the deity, because that's the only thing the being in front of her is, kisses her. The warmth that was pulsating around her invades her very being in a way no lover can ever repeat.
The feeling of being embraced by life itself is the last thing she feels as she abruptly feels restrained,
She opens her eyes as the sudden need to breath assaults her. Her fingers clutching around the dagger wound on her breast, as her chest heaves. The night sky being the first thing she registers. Going by the constellations, she absentmindedly realizes she is in Essos.
She achingly tries to sit up, her whole being feels like she's just been shoved into a full body corset. She doesn't understand what's happening. Her gaze takes in the abundance of people surrounding her.
As she sweeps her eyes around she happens to catch the gaze of a little boy who's practically jumping up and down with excitement, she can't help but give the boy a smile despite her confusion. She inhales solfy as she catches the masked gaze of Quaithe, someone who's helped her in the past and seems to be the one who has brought her back.
"Your Grace-" whatever the woman was going to say was interrupted by the desperate roar of Drogon. This causes her head to whip around behind her, as much as her sluggish body will allow.
"Drogon" she whispers in disbelief, and grief.
The urge to be near her Child overrides her common sense as she abruptly tries towards him. Her child seeing this lets a kneeing whine as he almost tentatively trench's towards her. The people rushing out of the way of the dragon.
Stepping hazardously out of the circle she was laying in she feels her leg buckle under her weight but before she can topple over the familiar weight of her child presses gently against her. The soft whining noise Drogon makes as he nuzzles into her causes a broken croak to escape her.
"My sweet child" she murmures drowsily sliding down against him not caring how she'll look or where she is at the moment. All that matters to her, is the comforting presence of her child. The recently revived queen soon falls unconscious, those around the two mystical beings go on to return to their business, though they'll never forget this night.
The night the mother of Dragons was reborn.