Chapter Six – A Storm of Flames
Part 1
The night time breeze chilled as it blew past him. She could feel her arm hairs stand erect with the characteristic goosebumps. He enters the bedroom with her at the pinnacle of his attention. A hand reaches up to untie the cloak which slides off his shoulders, draping it over a chair that overlooked the city.
They both stood there, staring at each other for some time. Daenerys trembled inside as fear spiked at the predatory gaze forming on Jons face. The same voracious look appeared the first time she saw his blue eyes. She began to get nervous as she thought of the possible reasons for his visit tonight. Jon moves with slow methodical steps in her direction but Daenerys mirrors each forward motion with a step backwards.
Daenerys holds up a finger, "Don't." Her bottom lip quivers, eyes swelling with tears. The situation was recognizable to the night she lost a part of herself, where her status was made apparent in this male dominant world. Except the eyes that followed her this time were not lustful but ravenous.
He glares at her, eyes boring into her face. His shoulders rise and fall in sync with his heavy breaths. All of a sudden Jon rushes her, grabbing a hold of her shirt. A startling yelp jumped from her mouth. Daenerys could feel herself begin to frantically shake, unable to look into his eyes. Her mixed emotions confused her more than anything. Her heart was pounding in her chest, begging to reach out to him while she still feared the unknown of his intentions. As well as the cold essence behind his glowing blue orbs. How was she to know if the man standing before her was the tormented Jon Snow or supreme leader of the Army of the Dead. The Night King. His demeanor transforms so unpredictably in the past, their identities blur together making it difficult to differentiate one from the Other.
"Please leave." Her whispers barely audible as she spoke through a shuddering sigh, keeping her sights to the floor.
Jon lets go of her with a flick of his wrist, scowling down on her before removing himself from the room. Daenerys lets out a sob as she falls to the ground, whimpering with tears rolling down her face. She wrestled with her thoughts, trying to make sense of them. Deep down she wanted Jon back. She wanted to blink and find his gentle brown eyes with that dorky smile. But she struggled to ignore the vacuum of darkness he produced. Starved of any life, looking to siphon stolen vigor. She drags her knees across the floor, crawling into bed. She pulls the sheets up to her chin, the soothing comfort and warmth of the covers console her to a point. Daenerys continues to cry, draining the remaining energy she had left allowing sleep to wash over her.
A loud knock at the door rips Daenerys awake and causes her to shoot up in bed, covering her chest with the sheets. Her head whips around to discover the room void of Jon and any sign of his presence here last night. There is another knock at the door. Daenerys flips the sheets off and tip toes to the door, pushing the wrinkles from her shirt. She opens the door to find Kinvara on the other side. Kinvara notices Daenerys puffy red eyes, like she had been crying recently.
"Queen Daenerys, are you okay?" Kinvara extends a hand to place on Daenerys shoulder.
"Yeah, yeah, I am fine." Daenerys sniffles, waving Kinvaras hand away.
Kinvara does not ask any further questions. "Well, why do you not wash up and meet me in the council chamber?" Kinvara says with a warm smile.
Daenerys enters the chamber where Kinvara is standing next to the table, waiting for her. "Please, sit." Kinvara moves to pull out her own chair and sits down. "I suspect you had a pleasant trip north of the wall." Kinvara expresses her discontent with Daenerys actions. Daenerys ignores the disapproval coming from the priestess, obtaining her own seat at the table. The sound of the wooden stubs dragging across the stone manifests her emotional exhaustion.
"Jon is no longer sheltered under the Lords light. Death cannot be understood. It cannot be reasoned with. It is unwise for my lords champion to be in contact with him."
"What I do in my spare time is none of your concern." Daenerys was quick to defend, standing her ground on the matter.
Kinvara continued to push the issue, "Daenerys you are the chosen one. The one to lead the people into the light, you can not be tainted by his darkness."
Daenerys could not deny the dark corruption that lingered in Jons shadow. It guided his actions more than he himself. She reflected on last night; how he lunged at her, the nature of his stare and how it all made her feel. But at her request, he respected her wishes without any added defiance. Something had to quell in the monster inside, keep it in check. She had seen revenants of the Jon Snow she knew, slowly emerging through the darkness.
"Shall I remind you what happened the last time you let Jon Snow get too close? How he betrayed you? Shoved a knife into your heart and killed you, thus preventing your assimilation to your destiny." Kinvara attempted to sway Daenerys away from the temptation.
Daenerys recollected that fateful day. Ash fell from the skies through the broken dome of the Red Keep with the throne in her grasp. Jon and her were embraced, their enamored gazes locked onto each other. She had finally done it, she had reunited the Targaryen name with the iron throne. So why did it not feel the way she expected? His words, 'You will always be my queen.' Echoed across her memories as she felt the coolness of a blade slip into her chest. Breathing became difficult at the realization of Jons deception. She could feel the agonizing hurt come flooding all back as she relives the memory.
Kinvara felt like she was making progress with Daenerys, "Westeros needs a leader. This realm is filled with nonbelievers who deserved to be purged and set free. Only the tools the Lord of Light has given you will accomplish that task. You were placed on this earth for a reason Daenerys Stormborn, do not let it go to waste."
Daenerys peered at Kinvara with sadden eyes, "What are you trying to say?" So many people have approached her in the past claiming of such prophecies. Prophecies that pointed to her leading Westeros from the seat of the iron throne. So many signs along the way would only confirm said prophecies. All she had known all her life was to relentlessly chase after her destiny but it came at a cost.
Kinvara covered Daenerys hands with her own, "They are lost." A sickening smile spread across her face. "King Bran and I have discussed the means to propel Westeros into a peaceful and flourishing future. A future covered in light but the lives that comprise this realm must be purified so that we may start a new. Too many scars cover the people, preventing forward movement. With your torch and Brans sight, we will be able to remake this world."
Daenerys can remember the screams of King Landing as she rained down hell from above in the name of her destiny. The faces of her advisors. The face of Jon. They were wrecked with disgust. Distaste for her actions. Thousands of innocent men, women, and children were slaughtered by her hands. Even from the beginning, when a mere farmer brought the burnt remains of his daughter and placed them at her feet. Another aftermath that followed the carnage of her dragons, an extension of herself. No more. No more suffering she thought.
"You are asking me to burn all of Westeros?" Daenerys fatigued eyes burned as they filled with even more tears.
Kinvara shook her head trying to make light of the situation. "Do you not see, this is your chance to remake the world. To make it better."
Daenerys thought of all the casualties that had transpired throughout her past. The deaths of her advisors. Family. Friends. Their faces flashing across her face. They supported her. They had the same goal as her, to reshape this world into a better one. Daenerys worked to keep her breathing under control as the gravity of her actions weighed heavy with repent. "I fought and I lost. So much."
"That is why you were chosen. Because of your strength." Kinvara could see Daenerys was struggling. She squeezed Daenerys hand then left the room and Daenerys to her thoughts.
Daenerys contemplated what Kinvara had said as she made her way to the courtyard. Though she put on a brave face that day in Kings Landing, it still haunts her. She let her emotions over shadow the bigger picture and as a result she sacrificed everything. Jon was now out of her reach. All of her friends were dead. No one was left but Drogon.
She humored the idea that restoring Westeros under Kinvaras guidance would give her a chance to start over. There would be no one to remember that ill-fated day, no one to be fearful of her. She would have love again, the devotion of her people. A chance to break the wheel and erase the horrors of her family history. The purging of what Kinvara called the 'lost' seemed to favor Daenerys and her ambitions of becoming Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Mhysa. Eyes filled with hope surrounded her, outstretched hands pleaded for the slightest touch. Back when she had the love and adoration of the people. She promised herself, she would have that again.
Drogon was sprawled out, sun bathing in the open courtyard. His wings were open to the fullest, filling the vacant space within the courtyard. Back legs kicked out to the side with his head rocking back and forth while he dozed off. She strolled over to him, placing a hand on his head. She was able to briefly forget her conversation with Kinvara as Drogon only brought her happiness. It was then she heard a voice call out.
"Daenerys?" Daenerys spun around to see Sansa Stark gawking at her with several north men by her side.
"Lady Stark, you look well." Daenerys placed her hands in front of her stomach in a tactful manner.
Sansa had never seen Daenerys in such a state. Her hair was long and wavy, highlighted by the sun rays. Free flowing unlike the braids it was normally trapped in. Her extravagant dress was replaced by a simple light purple gown which complimented her figure. "I thought you were dead."
"As do many." Daenerys let out a soft chuckle. "A um red priestess brought me back using a..."
"Why are you here?" Sansa stated without hesitation.
"I came to see the state of the seven kingdoms under the gracious rule of your brother. And to see Jon." She offered a gentle smile to deviate from her original intent. Deceiving Sansa would be difficult as gaining her trust was basically unattainable.
"Right. I was told Jon was in Kings Landing but nothing was mentioned about you being here." Sansa was a bit annoyed that Bran would leave out such information regarding the Targaryen girl. The same Targaryen that threatened the livelihood of her people and slaughtered thousands.
"Your grace." Sam interrupted their conversation.
Daenerys raised an eyebrow, "Your grace?"
"Bran granted the North their freedom and with Jon sentenced to the Nights Watch, they chose me to lead them as their queen in the North." Sansa explained.
Daenerys raised her chin in realization, "Of course he did." The Norths freedom, something she refused to promise Sansa. Her protectiveness over the north caused strain in their relationship as Daenerys past intentions were clear to the people throughout Westeros. But she still considered the North to be one of the Seven Kingdoms.
"The king awaits, your grace." Sam persisted.
Sansa looked to Daenerys one last time, "Good day to you, my lady." Turning to follow Sam into the Red Keep.
Daenerys spent the rest of her day flying Drogon across the country side and over the edges of the Narrow Sea. Her mood always improved after flying through the untamed sky above. The wind glided over her face as she appreciated the power rippling through Drogons muscles. She had resided to her quarters for the evening and was putting the finishing touches to her hair. Her fingers pranced elegantly, twisting and looping the strands into four braids, when Ser Davos made himself known at the doorway.
"My lady, your presence has been requested at dinner service." He awkwardly stood there with his hands behind his back. Daenerys completed her hair before being escorted to dinner, coiling it in and around itself to create a taut bun.
She was placed next to Sansa, who was to Brans left with Kinvara to his right. Surprisingly enough, Tyrion had been already sitting one seat over from Sansa, placing him to Daenerys left. She decided not to engage in small talk and keep to herself as courses were being served.
"I thought Jon would want to wait for my arrival in Kings Landing or I would have at least seen him on the Kings Road during our travels. Did you not mention to him I would have cared to see him?" Sansa asked Bran.
"Have you not told her?" Kinvara blurted. The nonchalant comment sparked the decline in the relatively calm evening.
Confusion glassed over Sansas face, "Told me what?"
"Jon. He is not quite himself anymore." Bran gave a vague answer, avoiding the subject and his sisters involvement.
"What is that suppose to mean?" Sansa was growing more and more restless by the lack of input being offered.
"My dear, your brother, he is no longer one of us." Kinvara tried to portray sadness in her voice but Daenerys sensed a hint of sarcasm and mockery.
"That still does not tell me what is going on?" Sansa expressed an elevated level of urgency since her pleas were being ignored by those around her.
"He has been turned. Twisted by the very magic that created the Night King we fought against. He is one of them now." The emptiness in Brans voice, the lack of sensibility created a picture that Jon was some feral animal. Daenerys recognized the horror, the hurt and denial plastered on Sansas face. The explanation felt like her head had been dipped in ice water.
"I am so sorry my dear." Kinvara reached out to cradle one of Sansas hands but was rejected as she pulled away.
Sansa stood, "Excuse me, I need some fresh air." Bolting out of the dinning hall. Daenerys continued to eat, quietly bringing spoonfuls of soup to her mouth.
"I do not know if that was the proper way to inform her that her brother has become one of the dead." Tyrion called out Bran and Kinvara on their lack of empathic approach.
"Lord Tyrion, your advice is always welcome but not always needed." Bran slapped back. "Ser Podrick I would like to retire for the night." Ser Podrick without delay escorted Bran to his room.
Kinvara graciously waved to Bran as he was wheeled out. Once he had completely left the room, she rose from her chair moving down the table to find another exactly in front of Daenerys and Tyrion. "Now, here are two people who can get the job done." She poured a glass of wine as both Tyrion and Daenerys watched her with speculating eyes. "The people of Westeros..."
"I must stop you there." Tyrion disrupts her mid sentence with his hand raised. "I have been involved with numerous people who thought they knew what was best for the realm. As a result, I am responsible for advising the death and destruction of innocence. I was apart of the elimination and extinction of several noble houses. I will not assist in another mass genocide." He flashes an obvious fake smile at Kinvara. "So if you will, I bid you goodnight priestess." Tyrion grabs the pitcher before sliding off his chair. "And to you my lady." Raising the container to Daenerys, shuffling out of the hall.
Daenerys glanced at him as he drunkenly stumbled away with a new profound respect but no less did it diminish her loathing for him.
"So what have you Dragon Queen?" Kinvara swirled wine in her glass, awaiting a response.
Daenerys reflected on her past, trying to find a new definition for herself. A better understanding of the enemy would allow her to play both sides of the board, even if it went against what her heart ached for. She cranked her jaw to one side, "Where do we begin?"