Finally a Daenerys chapter! Please take a second to drop your thoughts :)
CHAPTER 14: The Last Time
The slave masters of Meereen liked her little.
As Daenerys sat on a pavilion with two of them, flanked on either side by a translator and one of the Unsullied, they spoke of her harshly in Valerian.
"Tell the whore," one of them commanded a young slave girl, "that the Unsullied are an army beyond compare. Ask her if she has ever seen such an army in that savage tribe she walked with, or in that animal she married. Tell her I like her tits, and enjoy the dress she wears. Oh, and tell her I can fuck her better than her untrained savage could."
The Dothraki were not loved here. The nobles of Meereen paid the Khals of the Dothraki to leave their cities unmolested, and often bought slaves from them. But the horselords were mocked ruthlessly and disdained rather than hated. Khal Drogo must have been known, although Dany didn't know how.
"The noble master," the young girl said in the Common Tongue, "bid me to tell you that the Unsullied are rigorously trained in many ways, and they are the finest army to walk the world in a thousand years. They are put in training at the age of five and trained until their knowledge is complete. Only on child in six survives to become an Unsullied. Truly, Your Grace, the brave master confesses that he is loath to part with them, they have served him so well. But he is moved by your beauty and would part with four thousand of them."
Daenerys kept her face pleasant. "Four thousand is not enough," she said lightly in the Common Tongue. "I need all of them."
"All of them?" the girl asked, eyes wide.
"All of them."
She reported to her master, and one of the men laughed harshly.
"She could not afford all of them," the first snorted. "She is not that pretty."
"She is from Westeros," the second said thoughtfully, "everyone in Westeros is rich. Tell her it would be very expensive, and we could perhaps give her nine."
When the slave translated, Daenerys shook her head. "All of them. I would pay as much for a boy you cut yesterday as an Unsullied warrior."
Her words were relayed, and both masters laughed now. Aggo and Rakharo shifted behind her, angry to hear the laughter.
"This one is a moron," the second laughed, "we should take her up on her offer. Perhaps twelve thousand such Unsullied could be provided."
"No," said the first. "Untrained boys cannot be allowed to sully the Unsullied name. And we would have no more to sell when the next rich warlord comes asking. No, she can have the nine and that is all."
But Daenerys would not budge. "I would have all of them. Why do you balk so? Am I not making you a good offer? Untrained children for as much as the finest warriors? Tell you masters I would not use them in battle, except to pick up the dead and weapons from the field. To beat drums, as well."
That set them to debating. Finally, they agreed they could part with the twelve thousand.
"Only because you are so beautiful," the girl told Daenerys, although the masters had said nothing of the sort.
"Ask the whore how she presumes to pay for thirteen thousand Unsullied. We don't want her ships, nor anything of her Dothraki slaves. If she wants to get by with just that body of her's, she'll be disappointed."
"Don't tell her that," protested the first, "wait until after you've had her."
"The kind masters inquire as to how you would pay for the thirteen thousand Unsullied, Your Grace," the girl spoke over their laughter. "They regret to say they have no use for your ships, and would require payment in full right away, Queen Daenerys."
"They shall have it," Daenerys said, "although I will need a few days to prepare the gold."
"Yes, yes," the first master said impatiently, waving a hand. "Tell her she can have a week, then we will be forced to sell to another buyer. Tell her I'll wine and dine her on the finest cuisines in Meereen. We will eat candied bull genitals, and unborn dog brains, jellied and prepared savory. Tell her I'll be happy to service her in any way she requires, and that we can drink wine and I'll lick honey from her tits until she happily departs with her army."
The girl hesitated. "Truly, wise one?"
"No," the master said, reaching sharply to backhand the girl across the face. "Tell her she will have a week, and we require gold."
The girl hid her red cheek with a hand and a bowed head as she told Daenerys what she'd been told to.
"Very well," Daenerys said, blood boiling from the scene she'd been witness to and voice cold. "But the good masters of Meereen will do one more thing for me, I think."
The young slave's voice shook as she translated Dany's words.
"Fuck her till she's—" one of the master's volunteered, drinking heavily and laughing when he heard what she said.
The other was less amused. "What does she want?" he interrupted his fellow harshly. He was the one who had hit his translator and seemed to be in a bad mood for the incident.
"They will give me you," Daenerys said to the girl, "as a sign of good faith and gratitude for the thousands I'm going to buy from them. Tell your masters that. I will have you or I will have nothing from them."
The masters had been furious at her presumption, but they agreed. When Daenerys parted it was with the young girl next to her.
"What is your name?" Dany asked her as they sat side by side in the carriage that would take her to her small people and ships.
"Missandei, Your Grace," she said in a small voice. Her hand was still clapped over her cheek and didn't look her in the eyes. Fear was all over her, and Dany was mournful to see it. She put a hand on the girls wrist and gently drew her hand from her face to see where the bruise was forming.
"How old are you, Missandei?"
"Twelve, Your Grace."
"You speak the Common Tongue very well. Where are you from, Missandei?"
The girl shrunk backwards. She said nothing.
"Never mind," Daenerys said. "Did your former master beat you often?"
"No," the girl whispered.
They were silent for a few seconds. Dany carefully took her hand away from the child's wrist and stared at the bruise. She felt very tired. It had been nothing but trials, it seemed, and this was one of them.
"Missandei," Daenerys began gently, "I am a queen, but I am no slave master. From this moment, you are no longer a slave. I free you."
Missandei's eyes were wide in her skull.
Dany continued, "Tell me where you would go, and I will find a way to send you there. You are welcome to stay with me as a companion, but I can offer you no security. Sooner than I would like, I will find myself at war. The throne I claim is in the Seven Kingdoms, far from here. You may be hurt, you may starve or fall ill if you stay with me."
"I… I would stay with you, Your Grace. You've been very kind to me."
Daenerys didn't think she had, really. But the girl was still wary. What did freedom mean to someone who had never tasted it? Not much, and Dany thought she might fear it a trick. But there was nothing to be done now, so all Daenerys did was nod.
"Very well. Missandei. You do not have you call me your grace when we are alone. You can call me Daenerys."
"Yes, Your Grace."
Closeness was difficult… and everyone seemed to try and maintain separation with her, it seemed. She tried not to be hurt and let the matter rest. They rode the rest of the way in silence.
Daenerys studied the letter and read it again.
She knew the words by heart, but still, they brought a small, unsure smile to her face. Daenerys sat on one of her three ships, the one called Balerion, and considered for a moment. Balerion was in the docks, and if she chose, she could discard this letter and its sender and proceed into the city to somehow buy an Unsullied army.
Daenerys was a queen and her kingdom far from her now. Her followers were few. Currently she owned only three boats. Even the silver her Sun and Stars Khal Drogo had given her was gone.
In her company Daenerys had Ser Jorah of House Mormont and Ser Barristan the Bold of House Selmy. They were the only Westerosi she knew or had ever known. She also had with her her ko and bloodriders: Jhogo, of the whip, Aggo, of the bow, and Rakharo of the arakh, a long, curved blade the Dothraki favored. She had her handmaids Irri and Jhiqui. And she had her three dragon's eggs. The Kingdom of Daenerys Stormborn who hailed from House Targaryen and was of the blood of Aegon the Conqueror was less than a dozen people. The thought made her sad.
She claimed to rule Westeros but only ruled Dothraki now, and she was outside the city of Meereen, of all places. As for the Unsullied she had negotiated to buy—that had been a jest. A bad jest. She had nothing to buy them with. A dragon's egg, perhaps, but that was too valuable and too dear for her. She couldn't part with them, not even for an army.
Her two Westerosi knights had proved problematic lately. Barely a week ago the truth of Ser Barristan had been made known to her… and of Ser Jorah.
This letter perhaps posed an answer to the way forward… but Dany would have an answer to another of her issues here and now.
Grim, she turned to her bloodriders (they were never far from her) and said in their tongue, "Bring me Ser Barristan at once."
Since Ser Barrister had revealed his true name to her and told her the story of how he came to be in her service after being dismissed by Joffrey, she had refused to see him. She had thought him a squire named Arstan… to see Ser Barristan the Bold, one of the Usurper's dogs and a traitor to her family had been a horror. When he had told her of Ser Jorah's betrayal, and she had had to deny seeing either of them while she considered what to do.
But now she knew what she was going to do. Now Daenerys was sure.
Aggo and Jhogo brought Ser Barristan, forcing him to kneel before her. He submitted meekly, and Dany thought then she was truly his queen.
"You can go," she said to her bloodriders, who had brought him, in Dothraki. They did.
Ser Barristan didn't move from the ground. "Your Grace," he began but she didn't let him continue.
"I don't want to hear what you have to say."
"But, Your Grace, please-"
Daenerys was direct. Her voice was cold, and her eyes colder. Impatience was upon her, clenched in her hand.
"Ser Barristan," she said, her voice less than forgiving, "I forgive you for lying to me of your name when me met and for the few weeks after. But I would know why you did it."
The knight was startled, but he recovered quickly. "I—Your Grace, I needed to know."
"Needed to know what?"
He faltered and looked to the ground. "Has anyone told you of your father, my Queen?"
Daenerys did not understand his dark tone. "I have heard many stories of my father from my brother. Speak clearly, Ser, what are you asking me?"
Ser Barristan took a long moment to think then said, softly, "I served His Grace faithfully for many years... Faithfully and silently… but… may I speak frankly, Your Grace?"
"Always."
"King Aerys was as he is said to be, Your Grace. He was… he was not the king the realm deserved. Far from it, in fact. I'm sorry to speak ill of the dead and of your father… but I will speak the truth, Your Grace. Forgive me."
Daenerys did not quite understand. "'Is what he is said to be,'" she repeated, confused. "What is my father said to be?"
Ser Barristan blinked once, twice and seemed to hesitate. He dropped his gaze to the ground and said, carefully, "Your father is said to be mad, my Queen."
She sat up straight in her seat and glared. "That is a vicious lie of the Usurper's," she declared coldly. "Nothing more."
"No, Your Grace. I'm sorry, but it's true."
She calmed slightly at his mournful voice. "My brother always said that was nothing more than the false justifications of a Usurper, and that they were lies."
"I… I cannot speak to what your brother knew or did not know, Your Grace. But I knew your father."
Daenerys hesitated. "Why do you say he was mad, Ser? What did you see that makes you say this?"
"Many things, my queen."
Again, his voice gave her pause. "How… In what manner was he mad, then?"
"Many, Your Grace. I… I would prefer not to enumerate the sins of the dead, if it's all the same to you, my queen."
"It is not the same to me," Daenerys said, her voice sharper than she had intended. "I have been told all my life that the Usurper lied. Now you tell me it was the truth but offer no proof? No, I must hear what my father has done."
Ser Barristan bowed his head. "Very well… King Aerys… There are many examples I could give you, but… Have you heard the story of how the Starks died, Your Grace?"
"I wasn't aware they had."
"Lord Eddard lived, as did his younger brother, but his father and oldest brother died, Your Grace. They were the Starks I meant. The Lord and his heir."
"The Starks." Her voice was scornfully. "The Usurper's dogs, you mean. No, I don't know how they died. Tell me, Ser."
"It… was before Robert's Rebellion, Your Grace, but not by much. Lord Stark and his heir, Brandon, were summoned to King's Landing. But when they arrived, they were both wroth with fury. Brandon was in full armor, my Queen, I still remember it to this day. His father wasn't with him when he strode into the throne room and demanded that Prince Rhaegar come out to die."
Daenerys's face was cold. "Then that proves my point, Ser. They are dogs. My father was well within his rights to kill them."
"Well within his rights," Ser Barristan echoed. "Yes, Your Grace, he was… I've said that to myself many times to comfort myself for the inaction that shames me still. I would say now, Queen Daenerys, that just because it is within your rights… does not mean it is right."
Her brow furrowed as she thought for a moment. Something on his face gave her pause and turned her stomach. Ser Barristan's face was shadowed.
"Why did he want to kill my brother?" Daenerys's hand clenched on the letter she still held and thought she knew.
"Prince Rhaegar was accused of kidnapping Lyanna Stark, Lord Stark's daughter and Brandon's sister."
She nodded. "I've heard the story. I have heard only good things of my brother… But you knew Rhaegar. Was it true? Did he kidnap her, Ser?"
Ser Barristan hesitated and said finally, "I did not know Rhaegar to do something like that, Your Grace. But I do not know."
"Is it not possible they ran away together, Ser?"
Ser Barristan nodded. "That was the rumor at the time, Your Grace. It is very possible. But if she did, she did not tell her family… and Rhaegar…"
"What?"
"I was with him, my queen, at the tourney of Harrenhal when he looked past his wife Elia to crown Lyanna his queen of love and beauty and… and there is more to the tale, but it is not for me to say, Your Grace. The Kingsguard is sworn to keep the secrets of the royal family."
"I am the royal family. I am the queen. My brother's secrets are mine own. Tell me."
Ser Barristan seemed relieved. "He said to me the day before that he and Elia were at an end… I asked how that could be, was Elia not his wife? Was she not in love with him? No, he said, she had agreed, and he would soon put her aside for an unspecified other. Rhaegar was loyal to his father and family, Your Grace, and he did not have it in him to betray his wife by setting her aside, unless, I believe, she had agreed. Unless Princess Elia wanted it as well."
Daenerys nodded slowly. "So you're saying it is possible, that Rhaegar and Lyanna could have been married."
Ser Barristan's brow furrowed slightly. "Married? It is… very possible, Your Grace, I suppose. It fits much better with what I know of Prince Rhaegar. He was a good person. He would never have hurt Lyanna Stark, I believe. But I cannot say for sure. It might be as the Starks and Robert Baratheon maintained and she was kidnapped… I do not know, Your Grace."
Daenerys was thinking hard. "She was betrothed to Robert Baratheon, was she not?"
"She was, Your Grace."
"Did she love him? Do you know?"
"I don't know, Your Grace. All I can tell you are my own recollections. The talk of the day was that Lyanna had fought hard against the match. But that all could have been and even likely was just baseless gossip. I wouldn't put much stock in it, Queen Daenerys."
The Queen nodded and didn't look to him for a few seconds.
"Should I… should I continue with the story of the Stark's death, Your Grace or would you like—"
"Continue. I would hear the story to the end. Thank you for telling it to me, Ser." Daenerys waved with her hand for him to continue with his story. She still didn't look to him. Her eyes fell to the letter in her hand, and it was it she studied.
"The king commanded that Brandon be seized… Later he was… arranged in the court room and his lord father was summoned. He was seized as well…"
"Go on, Ser." Dread had built in her stomach.
"It is… not a nice story, Your Grace. I'm sorry I brought it up."
"No matter, Ser Barristan. I would have you continue."
"Are… are you sure you wish to hear it?"
"I fear I must. Go on, Ser."
Ser Barristan did. When he told her of how Lord Stark had been tied up, then set on fire her face had paled. When he told her of how Brandon had been collared and made to strangle himself to death trying to reach the sword that would free him and his father, her eyes were wide and damp. Her hands trembled and she felt ill. When he was done, they sat in silence for a long time.
"You may rise, Ser Barristan," Daenerys said finally. "So. Have you seen me and do you know?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
"Well? Do you see my grandfather come again in me?"
"No, Your Grace. I had wondered if you would take after your father or after your mother, as Rhaegar did. And now I know."
"Now you know." Daenerys studied his face. "I have need of you, Ser Barristan. I would name you as the Lord Commander of my Queensguard, if you would have me. You would be its only member, but not for long I think."
He nodded and for the first time that day a smile rose on his face. He kneeled again before her. "I would be honored, Your Grace."
"Then rise, Ser Barristan the Bold, the first of my Queensguard. You are forgiven for your lies, and I would have your council in all matters to come. I will have need of you soon, as I have need of you today."
He bowed his head. "Your Grace, you honor me."
Daenerys smiled at him, kindly. She still felt ill after hearing the death of the Starks, but it was what he had told her of Lyanna that she mulled over. "The honor is mine, Ser Barristan. Now I will speak to Ser Jorah. Send him in!" she called to her bloodriders at the door. Daenerys hardened her heart and made her face blank.
Ser Barristan stood behind her chair, his sword restored to him and now acting as her guard. She was grateful for his presence. It felt right, in a way she couldn't explain.
When Ser Jorah was brought to her, he didn't take a knee, as Ser Barristan had willingly done.
"Khaleesi," he said gravely, looking at her evenly.
"Ser Jorah."
"I—You must forgive me, Daenerys, what I did, I did before-"
"Do not presume to tell me what I must do, Ser."
There was a heavy tension in the room. Daenerys sat tall and looked at the man before her. She planned to forgive him, but he didn't exactly seem repentant.
"What I did, I did before I knew you, Khaleesi," he started again. "I would never do anything against you now, not when I-"
"Not when you what?"
Ser Jorah didn't answer except for to stare at her.
Daenerys continued, looking at him coolly, "When was the last time your reported to the Usurper's spider?"
His face looked ashen in the dying light as the sun set. "Please, Khaleesi-"
"When?"
He just looked at her, and made no answer except the quilt on his face.
"Tell me, Ser Jorah. Tell me now."
"When… when we were in Yunkai, Khaleesi."
"Barely a moon ago?" Daenerys looked at him in horror. She had been hoping his treachery had stopped long before. She thought back for a moment and saw the truth she'd been oblivious to. She had known Ser Jorah to be a spy, but the specifics of his crime had never been laid before her. But the timing was too much to be denied, now…
It dawned her quickly, then, and she stood in rage. "It was you who told the Usurper of Drogo and my unborn son, wasn't it, Ser?"
He knelt then and looked at her in hopeless hope. "Please, Daenerys, I, I didn't-"
"Don't lie, Ser," said Ser Barristan from behind her, sharply. "I was in the room as the Spider reported to Robert and when he commanded that the Queen and her unborn child should die."
"But I stopped the poisoner from killing you, Khaleesi." He was desperate now; It was in his voice and on his face. Jorah was devoted to her, but how could she forgive this?
"Fixing your mistake does not negate that which you did in the first place," said Daenerys. She had so wanted to pardon him. Her own voice was tinged with desperation as she said, beseechingly,"Will you admit no mistake?"
"I—I made a mistake, Khaleesi, I know that now. I beg your forgiveness."
Maybe there was hope still. It lightened her dark heart just slightly to think so. "Were you ever going to tell me, Ser Jorah?"
He looked at her, silent. She supposed that was answer enough.
"You—You must forgive me, Daenerys, you must. I… I love-"
"Do not presume to say that to me!" Daenerys was breathing hard. Again, she hardened her heart. She made an effort to calm herself and said in a more even voice, "Nor to call me that, Ser. I am your queen."
"Yes. Yes. You are my queen, Khaleesi."
"And yet you have betrayed me."
"No! I… I have not betrayed you, Khaleesi. Please, you must forgive me!"
"How can I forgive you if you have not betrayed me?" Sweat broke out on his face. She turned her own face away and did not look at him again. "You ask the impossible."
"No! No! Please, Daenerys you must forgive me! I have made mistakes, but I will never do it again! Please, Daenerys, please!"
Coldly she said, "I have told you not to tell me what I must do."
Daenerys swallowed and felt for a moment that loneliness would despair her. She pursed her lips and summoned her courage and said, no longer looking at Ser Jorah, "And this… this I cannot do. You have twenty-four hours to leave my riders and me. Do not let us see you again. I will see you hanged before I allow you back into my service. Get out."
He was removed from her presence. Jorah stared beseechingly at her, his eyes wide and longing and Daenerys could see by his face he thought never to see her again and found it unbearable. Daenerys sat still for a moment after he was gone.
Softly, she began to cry. It came upon her suddenly, and she couldn't stop it.
"Your Grace?"
She opened her eyes and wiped her face. "I'm sorry, Ser Barristan." Her voice trembled in a way it had not in years. How odd, to cry for a man who had betrayed her. She hoped she never saw him again; she hoped it was unbearable for him.
"Not at all, Your Grace."
Daenerys sniffed. Ser Barristan avoided looking at her, and Daenerys smiled to realize he was embarrassed by her tears. "Will you tell me more of my brother, Ser Barristan?"
"Happily, Your Grace. Prince Rhaegar was a good man, and he would have made a fine king. I accompanied him many times when he took walks about the city. Many times, Your Grace."
"What did he do on these walks?"
"Sometimes we would just walk and speak to people. Many times he would play a harp and sing for the common people. Crowds gathered to watch him play. It was my job to collect the coins they threw at him."
Daenerys was fascinated, and it was a happy reprieve from thinking of Jorah. "What did you do with the money?"
Ser Barristan grinned. "Sometimes he would give it away. Sometimes he'd buy food and hand it out. A few times we got really drunk."
She laughed. "Were you the Kingsguard assigned to my brother then?"
He nodded. "Yes, Your Grace. I protected Prince Rhaegar from when he was a young child until… well. I was with him on the Trident, Your Grace. When he fell."
Daenerys nodded. He had told her a week ago of how he accepted the pardon the Usurper gave him. She didn't want to talk of it now. "Did you meet his children? Rhaenys and Aegon? They would have been my niece and nephew. And Rhaenys, had she lived, might have been queen instead of me."
It made her sad to think of the girl who would have been. Rhaenys would have been about the same age Dany was, a few years older. They would have been friends. Rhaenys would have been like an older sister to her, not the niece she was.
Ser Barristan looked thoughtful. "I didn't see much of them, Your Grace. Jaime Lannister was assigned to protect the children… although, I believe during the Sack he was assigned to the King."
"You believe?" Daenerys looked at him doubtfully. Of course the Kingslayer had been with the king when he died. But he had kept his voice light, and Daenerys did not want to discuss her father's death, not now that she knew he had indeed been the Mad King. Quickly, she said, matching his light tone, "But never mind, Ser Barristan. Did Ser Jaime like my niece and nephew?"
"Oh yes, Your Grace. He was quite devoted to Rhaegar, he idolized him, I believe. And in turn he was devoted to Rhaenys. Very devoted, and that little girl adored him. Aegon was just a babe, and more often than not with the queen and Ser Jaime did not often accompany the Queen. And so, Ser Jaime was set to guard only Rhaenys most of the time. They got along quite well, if I remember correctly."
Daenerys was intrigued. Ser Jaime Lannister had killed her father… his own kingsguard had broken his vows to do so. She had hated the man, but something in Ser Barristan's tone and words made her hesitate on her condemnation.
"Rhaenys adored him, you said. How so?" she asked, curious.
"He was her protector but also her closest friend. Her only friend. The children of the royal family were very well protected… and very lonely for it, my queen. Rhaegar himself told me once he was isolated for much of his childhood. His daughter was much the same. She latched onto Jaime, someone who gave her more attention than either of her parents combined, I believe."
"And yet it was him that killed her father. And his father that killed her."
Ser Barristan bowed his head and hesitated before saying quietly, "I am certain Ser Jaime didn't know of what his father planned, Your Grace. I saw his face when the children were put at Tywin Lannister's feet… He stormed out of the room after yelling at his father, Your Grace… I thought for a moment he was actually going to strike Tywin. And that is… perhaps understating an ugly conflict."
"Strike him? He was angry then?"
"Angry, yes. Angry and something else, I think. He and his face were terrible with Jaime's… grief, I suppose. He looked… stricken, certainly."
"All he did was yell, though? That was the extent of his grief for the young child he'd sworn to protect? That was the end of his regard for her and his anger at her murder?"
"He… Your Grace… There is… I would rather not say."
"He did more then? Is it bad?" Daenerys was curious.
"No… In fact, I would say it quite became him, Your Grace."
Now she had to know. "This was after he slew the king he was to protect?"
"That's so, Your Grace."
"And you say it became him?"
"I… I don't condone what Jamie did… but I can understand it. He's an oath breaker and Robert should not have pardoned him. He should have stood trial for his crime and allowed justice to have its way, Your Grace. But yes, I think it became him. Aerys's death may be a sin of Jaime's, but Rhaenys's is not."
She had to know. "Please, Ser Barristan, tell me."
"Very well, Your Grace… I was part of Robert's Kingsguard with Ser Jaime. In those first few days after Aerys fell and Robert was established as king, I was positioned close with Ser Jaime. We often were stationed together. Twice, Your Grace, I witnessed him crying. And I'm sure it was for that little girl."
Daenerys was astounded, then unsettled. "Crying?"
"Yes, Your Grace. Many times his eyes were red and bloodshot, Your Grace."
"Crying… crying how?"
"…Very quietly, my queen. Jaime didn't know I'd seen him, I think. I watched him unobserved both times."
"How did he… you're sure?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
Daenerys sat back to think. It was hard to reconcile the image of the man who had killed her father and the image of a suddenly much younger man crying for a child his father slew. "How old was Ser Jaime then?"
"I believe… he was 16 or 17 when Rhaenys died, Your Grace."
"Oh." Hardly a year older than her now. She supposed that was very young for a kingsguard… mayhaps he had seen Rhaenys as something like a younger sister? Or a daughter? Clearly she had not been just the granddaughter of the Mad King to him.
"And there was more, Your Grace. I don't know for a fact but it was a rumor among Robert's court that it was Jaime who arranged for the bodies of the children to be buried. Robert had wanted to mount their heads."
"Mount their heads?" She was aghast. "They were children!"
"Robert hated Targaryens," Ser Barristan said simply. "He didn't see them as children. Dragonspawn, he called them, Your Grace."
"But Ser Jaime had them buried?"
"That was the rumor, Your Grace. I don't know where he had them buried, if indeed he did. I don't even know for sure what happened to their bodies."
"He should have had them burned." That was the Targaryen way, after all. They were of the dragon, and they burned in the end.
"As you say, Your Grace."
Daenerys's mind was racing as she mulled this all over. She thought of the letter again, still in her hand, and asked, "What did Eddard Stark think of this?"
"Uh…" Ser Barristan cleared his throat. "Lord Eddard Stark?"
"Yes."
He waited for an explanation, but Daenerys didn't offer one. "Think of what, Your Grace?"
"Of his good friend the good king Robert wanting to mount the heads of two children."
"I don't… I don't believe Lord Eddard was there. He was heading North, I think, by this time… But I doubt Eddard Stark would have approved."
"Why not? He helped overthrow the rightful king and place his friend on the throne."
Ser Barristan bowed his head. "That is so, Your Grace. But Eddard Stark was known as an honorable man." He hesitated then added, carefully, "When Robert wanted to kill you when you were with child, Your Grace, Lord Eddard spoke against it vehemently. When Robert refused to be strayed, Eddard Stark resigned as Hand at that very meeting."
She was surprised. "For true?"
"Yes, Your Grace."
She stared at the wall opposite her as she thought. "Why would he do that?"
"He disagreed with Robert, Your Grace. They argued and both yelled at one another."
"I was always told he was nothing but a dog, leaping to do as the Usurper commanded."
"That… that was not so, Your Grace. Lord Eddard was wroth when Robert went forward with arranging your assassination. He intended to leave the city then and there."
"Why was he so angry? What did he care for me?"
"You were a child, he said. It was wrong."
"So it was just morality?"
"I… I believe so, Your Grace."
She absorbed that for a moment. Then she said consideringly, "What is your opinion of Eddard Stark, Ser Barristan? You knew him when he was in King's Landing as Robert's Hand, didn't you?"
"Yes, Your Grace. I… I thought Eddard Stark to be an honorable man."
"Yet he conspired to overthrow the rightful king and engineered the murder of children."
Ser Barristan seemed very tired… and he was very old, it occurred to her.
Suddenly the intricacies of the man who had helped overthrow her father didn't interest her much. "Never mind, Ser. Did you spend much time with the Queen? With my mother?"
He brightened, but only slightly. "Some, Your Grace. Queen Rhaella was very kind."
"Kind. I know nothing of the woman that bore me, Ser Barristan." She gave him a teasing smile, happy to lighten the mood. "Surely you can do better than kind?"
"Her Grace loved her children very much, my Queen. She was singularly devoted to them, and I'm sure you as well."
They spoke of the past for a while more, before Ser Barristan asked her what they would do.
She smiled and said, "I will go home, Ser Barristan. I will go home." Then she thrust the letter to him and said simply, "Read this. I would hear your thoughts, Ser."
He read it, and his face turned paler and paler. When he finished, he looked at her, stricken.
"Is this true, Your Grace?" he asked, voice hoarse.
"I could not speak to its honesty, but it is the letter I received from a rider when I returned from Meereen a few hours ago, Ser."
"This… do you believe this, my queen?"
"I would hear your thoughts on it. You were with Rhaegar on the Trident, when he fell. Before he would have been at the Tower of Joy, where Lord Eddard later was. Is this true?"
He was remarkably pale. He didn't tear his eyes from the parchment in his hands as he croaked, "Yes, Your Grace. By the gods, we were at the Tower of Joy in Dorne. He left Ser Arthur and some of his men behind, and I didn't understand why… he didn't tell me either, but he must have…."
Ser Barristan left the thought unfinished and raised his eyes to meet her's. She was startled to find his eyes were damp with tears at some memory of Rhaegar.
"Must have what?"
"We… he was dealing with the High Septon a half a year before we marched… Jon Snow speaks of a letter of the High Septons nullifying his first marriage and creating a second… Your Grace, from what I can verify, this all makes sense with what I know."
"Truly?"
"Yes. Yes, Your Grace. When we left the capital to meet Robert in the field at the Trident I didn't understand why he took a carriage with him, why we had the wheelhouse, nor why he refused to let me see in it… but I don't recall seeing it after we left Dorne. It all makes sense, your Grace."
"Then I'm right in believing his tale?" It was more than she had dared to hope for. All the loneliness fell away before her like mist in the morning sun. Her mind crept back to half remembered dreams and the man in them… Daenerys smiled.
"Yes," Ser Barristan said. "Jon Snow—"
"Call him Jaeherys, Ser," Dany told him. "Call him by his name."
"Jaeherys," Ser Barristan echoed. "Son of Rhaegar. I believe it, Your Grace."
She did as well. All that left was what to do about it. Dany smiled as she had not in years, and felt a bond of connection in her mind where she had never felt one before. Three heads to a dragon… and she had found one.
Ser Jorah had once spoken to her of the three heads of the dragon, after Viserys's death. He had urged her to take two husbands… Dany had never wanted that. She had only needed one, just one person who she could trust. Out of the entire world, there must surely be one person she could trust, she had thought at the time.
There was. She knew it to be true now.
And she had found him.
What was she in Meereen for? Her home had always been Westeros, from the moment they left the red-doored house when she was a child. Her home had always been where her family was. She had thought she was lost, but if she had been, now she was found.
"Tell the captains, Ser. We sail in the morning."
