Chapter 50; Reminded of one's mortality;
Characters of the Chapter
Alexander de Rozien, Chevalier of Orlais, Marshall of the Grand Army of Orlais, supreme commander of the Orlesian invasion of Westeros
Daenerys Targaryen The Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains, Queen of the of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men of the South, Queen of the South Kingdom of the Twin kingdoms and Protector of the Realm
Jerome Evander mage-healer in the service of Jon Snow
Jon Snow, also known as Aegon Targaryen and Jon Stark, King of the North Kingdom of the Twin Kingdoms
Lucan Holden Nevarran Dragon Hunter, advisor to the Grand Army of Orlais
"I still think you should not charge off on your own. Without an army supporting you the enemy can focus on you and the dragon exclusively. That's too dangerous." Jon argued as he and Daenerys were walking to where Drogon was basking in the sun. For several days now their armies had been pursuing the retreating Orlesian host. Twice the Orlesian force had turned around to face them in open battle. Both times dragonfire and the efforts of their soldiers had turned the tide, breaking the enemy anew, leaving the foe with lesser numbers than before. Between battles she had taken to using Drogon to make quick attacks against the Orlesian marching column to thin their ranks further, which was what she was about to do again.
"We have had this same discussion every time I have done this, and I win every time." Daenerys responded. "Are you perhaps planning to start a new tradition?" She asked, half in jest.
"I persist because it matters to me. You matter to me." Jon said.
"And I appreciate that, but I will be fine. I have been after every prior attempt." The Queen said.
"If I know anything of warfare, it's that even if something works nine times, the tenth time might still hold surprises." he argued.
"Your people need you as much as mine need me. To say nothing of how much I need you with me. If something were to happen to you… I couldn't bear it."
"I know it." Daenerys said compassionately. "And believe me, that's exactly how I feel every time you put yourself in danger. Even so…"
"There is no need to risk for you to risk yourself like this. Not this time. The Orlesians are in disarray, there is no need for these attacks." he interrupted.
"We should keep the pressure up, to make sure they remain off balance, to make sure the enemy is dealt with once and for all. Otherwise they might find a way to turn this back around to their advantage. This conflict cannot drag on any further, none of us can afford it. And so I must do this. There is risk of course, but there is always risk. Every time we go to battle it's a gamble. And yet it is a gamble we must take, because we have already asked others to so for us. If we are unwilling to take chances we ask of our soldiers, we don't deserve to be here. This is my choice to make, and I have made it." She said.
"And why is it you who gets to take these chances? Why not me?" He asked.
"You know why. I am the better flyer, just like you are better at commanding troops on the ground. But if you're willing to have a go at this then I'll gladly stay on the ground next time, assuming Drogon lets you ride him." She said. "This time, however, is mine." She added with finality.
Jon sighed, realizing that he had lost the argument once again. "You're one of the most stubborn people I know, did you know that?"
"Of course. It's one of my charms is it not?" Daenerys said, smiling playfully. Then she climbed on Drogon's back, fastening the straps that held her in the saddle. "You needn't be overly worried about me. I'm riding Drogon after all". She said in a more serious tone.
"I'll be back before you know it. I promise it." She called down to Jon one last time before the dragon took flight, rapidly shrinking as the Queen flew away.
"I'll hold you to that… my love." Jon said to himself as he watched her fly.
"You're certain that these weapons of yours can bring down the dragon?" Marshal Alexander asked of Lucan Holden back in the Orlesian camp, using Thedosian common for a change. A table lay between the two, upon which two sets of arrows were placed. The Nevarran dragon hunter was his spymaster's answer to the question of finding alternative methods of dealing with the dragon utilized by the enemy, finally here to aid them. With repeated defeats suffered by his army due to the beast, this aid could not have been more timely. Usually Nevarrans would be loath to work with Orlesians, but fortunately Holden was not a very patriotic man, and in any case he was being compensated very well for his services.
"There is a very good chance of it my Lord." Holden answered. "I would offer a more certain response, but nothing is ever certain with dragons, particularly one that favors flying around as much as your soldiers have told me this one does. These weapons, along with the mages in your service, offer the best chance to ground the creature, however."
De Rozien nodded. "Tell me of these weapons, and your plan to use them."
"Well, the first set of arrows are explosive arrows." He said, pointing at the group of arrows to his left. "You have these in use in your army. We'll be aiming these at the wing membranes of the dragon. A few good holes in those and the creature should come tumbling down from the skies. Furthermore, even if these arrows do not pierce the dragons hide, shockwaves from detonations against the body of the creature may cause it disorientation and possible internal bleeding." Next he picked up the second group of arrows. "Now, these are the special deal. In addition to the arrows I have provided a few larger tips to your high engineer to be used on the few bolt throwers your army has left. You may note the high quality material: The tips are fashioned from Volcanic Aurum, the shafts from Sylvanwood, and the feathers have been prepared with extra care to ensure the arrows fly straight and true. Furthermore, these arrows have a rune design in them specifically meant to harm a dragon. On contact the magic causes reactions similar to burns on any dragon tissue. Again, even if the arrows do not go through the skin, the magic of the runes may do some damage. The only drawback is that their expensive cost means that we do not have all that many of them."
"The creature flown by the Queen is rather different from the dragons found back home." The Marshal commented. "What if the runes fail to affect it?"
"That should not be something we need to worry about." Holden replied. "I tried these on a wyvern once and they worked just fine. I reckon it's a safe assumption that the dragon we face today is a far closer cousins to Thedosian dragons than wyverns."
"Very well. Please continue." De Rozien said.
" I have handpicked some of your best archers to assist me. We will be working in groups of five. Four in every five men will be using explosive arrows, while the rest, the best archers in your army, will be using the dragon slaying arrows. Working in such small groups, we should be able to avoid the worst of the dragonfire, and with our special weapons there is a reasonably good chance we will be able to force the creature out of the sky.
"Will you be a part of the teams?" the Marshal asked.
"Of course." Holden confirmed. "I will be using these Dragon slaying arrows myself. Not to boast, but I am an excellent archer. It would be foolish not to apply all my skills in this endeavor."
"Let's say that you manage to force the dragon to the ground. What then?" Alexander asked.
"Assuming that the dragon and its rider survive the crash? Then it shall be up to your army to finish the job." Holden said.
"Even grounded, the beast will still be dangerous, and loss of life almost guaranteed. Even so, in that state it will be far more vulnerable to attacks, particularly from the heaviest weapons of your army. If your army has chains and grappling hooks, I recommend making use of them. They will be very useful in holding the beast down. The ice spells of your mages will also be extremely useful in containing the fire attacks of the dragon. Your troops should surround the creature and attack from all sides simultaneously and keep moving, so it cannot focus its efforts. Tell your soldiers to go for the legs, the eyes and the soft tissues around the mouth and wings. They should strike and retreat away from easy striking distance of the dragon. A dragon's hide is tough and will deflect most attacks, but every wound inflicted will weaken the beast that much further. Obviously your soldiers should direct their attacks on any existing wounds on the dragon to cause more damage. Once the dragon has been adequately weakened, the mages or bolt throwers in your army will need to deliver the killing blow. You will need to have both on hand the moment the dragon hits the ground. Then the main targets will be the head and the torso and the major organs residing within." He went on to instruct.
"Understood. Let's hope your plan works. If we are to have a victory in this campaign we must deal with the dragon. That is the only way." Alexander said.
"That is why I am here, what you pay me for. My teams are ready to deploy at once, as soon as you give the command." The Nevarran said.
Just then a horn sounded and shouts of soldiers could be heard all around, fingers pointing at the sky.
"Then it seems that the hour has come. Do as you have promised and the reward you receive will be such that you need not work a day in your life ever again." The Marshal said. Holden nodded, quickly grabbing the arrows on the table and running off to where his troops were waiting for him. Alexander left quickly as well. For the moment there was little he could do except encourage his soldiers and direct their efforts where possible. Once the dragon was grounded he would direct his soldier's efforts against it in earnest, but before that was done he too had no choice but to seek shelter from the wrath of this flying monster.
"Prepare to fire! Holden shouted when he reached his team of soldiers. In response the Orlesian's nocked arrows to their bows. "Not yet." He said when he saw one of them taking aim at the dragons. "Wait for it to descend. Then we fire for maximum effect. Aim at the parts of the dragon I instructed before. Maintain discipline and remember to lead your target. Like shooting at a galloping knight."
As he said this, the dragon descended for its attack, unleashing the first blast of flame,. "Now!" He shouted, and they drew their bows and fired as one. Other of his teams began attacking as well, joined by the rank and file archers of the army, the bolt throwers and the mages, filling the air with flying projectiles.
Daenerys spotted the sprawling mass of the Orlesian army on the march, looking like ants from the height she was flying at. She directed Drogon into a rapid descent. She selected as her first target a group of chevaliers on a small clearing. "Dracarys!" she said to her mount and a large eruption of flame followed. Some of the chevaliers managed to scatter and get away, but most of the group were caught by the fire and burned to a crisp.
As had happened previous times, arrows and magical attacks began to fly at her and her dragon. She dodged these attacks as best she could, setting fire to more of the enemy at every opportunity. Even as she did this she noticed that something was different this time. The incoming fire was more intense than the previous times she had flown against the Orlesians, intense enough that many arrows and some spells were hitting their target. While many of the arrows flying at her were clattering harmlessly away as before, others were, instead of merely impacting, exploding on contact, violent enough that even Drogon's body shuddered at the shockwaves. Others emitted a green light as they struck, causing Drogon discomfort with each hit, as was evident from the pained screeches he gave. It did not take much of that for her to begin to hesitate in her attack. This was very bad. The Orlesian attacks were far more severe than she had anticipated, and if the Orlesians could do enough damage to make Drogon do behave like this…
Sensing imminent danger in the situation, she made a quick decision to retreat. She turned Drogon hard to the right, beginning to turn around and head back. The Orlesians were directing all fire against Drogon, making it impossible to avoid every incoming attack. It was as she was flying through this cloud, trying to get away when there was a blur of something moving in the corner of her eye, then something painfully impacting against her side. The impact pushed the air from her lungs, so her scream of pain came across as little other than a gasp. She looked down and saw an arrow sticking out in the area of her ribs, the tip having burrowed itself just beneath the plate. She had barely processed this as another arrow came at her, hitting her in the arm, shattering from the impact, leaving the tip lodged in her armor.
At the moment of impact there was a flash of green light, and this time she howled, howled with terrible pain.
The agony was unbelievable, feeling as if electricity was travelling the length of her arm, followed by a terrible numbness, her arm going limp, all sensations gone from her limb.
Somehow the wound she had sustained in her arm left her feeling exhausted and weak, like she had been sick for days. Barely conscious, she did not know how Drogon managed to get away from the line of fire, but away he got. Eventually she dimly noted that arrows were no longer flying around them. "Home, Drogon, Home." She whispered weakly, slumping against Drogon's neck.
Down on the ground a Nevarran dragon hunter cursed that he had failed to bring down the dragon, taking only small consolation that he had managed to wound it and drive it away, which at least proved that his method worked to a degree. And although he could not be certain of it, he was almost sure he had seen the Queen get hit as well. That alone could be a valuable outcome.
After about twenty minutes of flying Daenerys regained her senses to a degree and forced herself to sit upright again. The arrow in her side hurt, stinging her with every breath. She tried to pull the arrow out but could not manage to do it with one hand, and eventually the pain of the trying forced her to stop. Feeling was slowly returning her other arm, and with that she became aware of the even more severe pain on her arm, pain that somehow, to her surprise, reminded her of fire. It was crazy that it hurt so much. The arrow had not even pierced her plate! She reached out with her functioning hand and tried to pry away the arrow tip still attached to her armor, but as soon as her fingers brushed against it there was another flash of green light and she yelped as her hand went as numb as her arm. She decided it was better not to meddle with this thing in her armor.
Drogon continued to fly onwards, hopefully back towards the camp. She clung to the saddle, fighting off unconsciousness tugging at the edges of her thoughts. Eventually Drogon landed on a windswept plain of grass. With weak, clumsy hand she undid the straps the kept her in the saddle. Then, with the last of her strength gone, she slid sideways from Drogon's back, landing on the ground with a crash, the arrow in her side breaking under her. Lying on the ground she was dimly aware of the massive shape of her dragon looming over her. She smelled his sulfuric breath as he gave her a slight nudge with his snout, then licked her face with his tongue, giving a concerned rumble. Daenerys smiled at that. "You big softie. Your mother will be just fine. You'll see." She mumbled, her thoughts beginning to fade. The last thing she heard before the darkness swallowed her was Drogon filling the air with a long, piteous wail.
That was where Jon found her, with Drogon standing over her protectively. Having seen her land some distance away from camp, he had guessed that something was wrong and had fetched the healers at once. Two of them were following at his heels, carrying a stretcher with them. Jon's heart jumped with fear when he saw Daenerys lying there, unmoving. For the briefest of moments he was frightened that she was dead. But then he saw her turn her head ever so slightly, indicating that she still lived. When the healers saw her they moved to retrieve her, but the moment they took a single step towards her, Drogon roared at them, smoke drifting from his mouth, and they retreated in fear.
Realizing that Drogon was being protective of Daenerys, Jon took a few cautious steps forward, past the healers.
"Your Grace, don't!" One of the healers warned him, but he ignored his words. Drogon roared at Jon as well, but recognition soon reduced his roar to a half-hearted growl.
"Drogon, listen." he said to the dragon, keeping his voice calm and even, hoping that he could make himself understood. "She is hurt. She needs help. We can help her, but you must let us get to her. We won't harm her, I promise. Let us help her, please." He pleaded.
Somehow Drogon seemed to understand what he was saying. Although he continued to growl a little just to make a point, he slowly, slowly backed away. The healers were still afraid to get any closer, so Jon walked to her, picked her up on his arms and carried her back, gently lowering her to the stretcher. Then the healers picked up the stretchers and headed back to the tents with Jon walking at their side, refusing to leave his wife's side even briefly. Only once they reached the tents of the healers was he forced to remain outside, the healers insisting that they needed peace to work. Not even his position as the king could sway them. He remained just outside, wringing his hands anxiously and made several attempts to barge in, to no avail.
"Burned? Are you joking?" Jon asked incredulously some time later of Jerome Evander, who had been detailing to him the condition of his wife. Daenerys was still unconscious, lying on a bed, her armor removed and her injuries tended to.
"Joking? I assure you your Grace, this is no laughing matter." Jerome said, not understanding why the king thought he was making a joke.
"You don't understand. She cannot be burned. As in, fire does no damage to her." Jon insisted.
"It does not? You're certain of that?" Jerome asked.
"Yes. She showed this to me once. Took a red-hot coal into her hands and held it there. There were no burns afterwards." Jon said.
Well… be that as it may, there is certainly a burn on her now." Jerome said, looking perplexed. "Take a look for yourself." he said, beginning to remove the bandages on her arm. When Jerome finished his work Jon's eyes narrowed at what he saw:
On her arm, almost exactly in the middle between her shoulder and elbow, there was a perfectly circular burn of angry red color, around the size of a palm. Tiny blisters had spread outward from the center in a spider web pattern.
"What the… how?" Jon breathed, not believing his eyes. "This looks like no burn I have ever seen."
"Me neither. That is not an ordinary burn, that's for sure. There are also burns of on the fingers of her other hand, but those are not serious and will heal on their own." Jerome agreed. "That thing is resistant to healing magic, so I suspect the attack itself was magical in origin. That might be how she could be burned in the first place."
"What caused this?" Jon asked.
"Near as we can tell, this." Jerome said, lifting up an arrowhead from a metal tray. "We found it lodged in the armor just above the burn. There is some kind of magic on it, brought about by a rune in the metal. But that still leaves a lot of questions. Both the rune and its magic are of a kind that I have not seen before. I cannot figure out why the Orlesians decided they needed special arrows or what they are for. One possible clue though: The others, they told me that they saw burns on the dragon too."
"You believe there is a connection?" Jon asked, even more puzzled than a moment ago.
"Possibly. I still don't quite understand why it would affect her." The healer answered.
"A fascinating mystery certainly, but I think for another time." Jon voiced his conclusion. "Will that heal?" He asked, pointing at the burn.
"We are confident it will." Nervander assured. "We have treated it with ointments and as much healing magic as we could make it take. That will speed up the healing process, but even so it will take some time."
"What about the other arrow, the one you told me she had on her side?" Jon asked.
"That is already dealt with, fully healed. She got lucky with that one. It was not ultimately all that serious, but it could have been lethal. It was a good thing she was wearing armor, and that the arrow struck a rib on its way in, stealing strength from the impact. Without that the arrow would have buried itself in her lungs. As it is, she won't even have a scar."
Jon gave a relieved sigh, comforted by the fact that his Queen would be all right. "Thank you for what you have done." He said to the mage.
"You're welcome." Evander replied, giving a bow of his head. "Now, if your Grace would excuse me for a moment, I should reapply her bandage.
The king nodded and Jerome went to work on applying a fresh layer of ointment to the Queen's burn. Meanwhile Jon interest was captured by the arrowhead. Wondering how such a little thing could cause so much, he reached out to take the thing into his hand…
…but the moment his hands brushed the surface of the arrowhead he withdrew his hand hastily, giving a shout of surprise and pain. Alerted by the sound Evander turned around to see the king clutching his hand and the arrowhead pulsing angrily with green energy.
"What the…? Your Grace, are you alright?" The healer asked.
"It… it stung me!" The king said, completely astonished.
"Show me your hand." Evander told him. Jon complied, and Evander saw that his fingertips had burned.
"How in the…? It affected you too? But I was handling that thing just a moment ago! You saw! Why didn't it do anything to me? How come this thing works only on you two?" He exclaimed.
"I don't understand it either." Jon said, sounding confused. "The only unique thing me and Daenerys have in common that I can think of is that we both have Targaryen blood."
"So you are saying that there might be something in that thing that only affects Targaryens?" Evander said, pondering. "And… and the dragon." he gasped in realization.
"The dragon?" Jon repeated, unsure what Evander was trying to say.
"Yes. This is going to sound strange but… I have heard it said that the Targaryens are the blood of the dragon. How… literal… is that?" Evander asked.
Jon was surprised by the question. "I… I do not know. I always assumed that was just something they said, because of their sigil, like saying that Starks are wolves or that Lannisters are lions. But maybe…" He glanced at Daenerys, wondering.
"Well, if you will permit it, I could send messages to some Inquisition contacts of mine. If anyone would know what this rune is really, it would be them. They could confirm some suspicions that I have."
"Of course. Answers would be welcome. See to it." Jon said, nodding. "But what of her?" He asked, motioning at Daenerys.
"All that can be done for her has been done, so now it's just a matter of waiting." Nervander said.
"Understood. Thank you again." Jon said.
Evander made his leave, while Jon remained with his Queen, wanting to be there when she woke up. Now and then his people came by to give him reports, but none of them lingered for long. He knew that the army would have to move out to keep pace with the Orlesians, so he had given orders to be ready to set out at dawn the next morning. Even so he refused to leave her side to oversee those preparations. He was half asleep himself by the time his wife stirred, his head nodding, but when he saw her waking up he immediately returned back to full awareness. She opened her eyes and turned her head to look straight at Jon.
"Hi. Welcome back." Jon said, smiling as he knelt beside her, caressing her cheek.
"Jon… what happened?" She asked with a voice full puzzlement.
"I was about to ask you that." Jon replied.
Daenerys frowned as she thought back to her past flight. "I… there was an arrow. It struck me in the arm, there was a green light, and then… pain. Terrible pain." She said, looking at her arm, seeing the bandages there, the fingers of her other hand brushing over them.
"It still hurts. Unlike anything I think I've ever felt and bloody hells I've given birth. How can it possibly hurt this much? What did they do to me?" She asked.
"It… this might be a shock for you to hear." Jon said, trying to find the right words to explain.
"Tell me." She insisted.
"There is a burn on your arm." He more or less blurted out, finding no better way to say it.
Daenerys looked utterly shocked: "What… a… that cannot be!"
"That was my reaction as well. But I saw it with my own eyes. It's true. And I got my share of it too." He said, showing his burnt fingers.
"But how?" She asked.
"We don't know exactly, but this was caused by an enchanted arrow unlike any we have seen before. It turns out it does damage to you, me and dragons if Drogon is any indicator, but apparently no one else. I have people looking into the why as we speak."
"It just doesn't make any sense…" She said, still finding it difficult to wrap her head around Jon's claims. "Is Drogon alright? You said he was hurt as well."
"He was fine, last I saw. I doubt these arrows had a chance to do more than make him grumpy." He calmed her.
"Please do check up on Him when you get the chance. Right now the two of us might be the only ones who can approach him safely. That means we are the only ones that can see how bad his wounds really are. I put him in harm's way. It would take a great load off my chest to know he's going to be fine." She said.
"Of course. But there is something I would like you to promise me first." He said.
Daenerys looked at him questioningly, unsure what her husband wanted her to promise.
"I want you to promise me to never scare me like this ever again. There was a moment there I thought I had lost you, and that notion scared me half to death."
Daenerys smiled. "It seems only fair payback for all the times you scared me."
"Dany…" Jon said seriously.
"I know, I know, a bad joke. I promise to be more cautious in the future. And I am sorry. I didn't think such a thing could happen to be honest. I mean, I was riding a dragon. What could anyone do against him?" She said.
"You know full well dragons are not invulnerable, and you are not the dragons you ride." He said. "Our enemies can always do something to you, particularly now that they wield weapons unlike any Westeros has ever seen."
"True." She said solemnly. "But while on dragonback it is easy to forget such a thing. Easy to think yourself invincible. After today though… I don't think I'll forget again."
"Are you sure you are ready to do that?" Jon asked as Daenerys sat up on the bed.
"Yes." She said firmly. "I still feel exhausted, I think because of the magic on the arrow, but it's not like I'm going straight back to work."
"I think I want to see this burn for myself. Accept it as real." She said after a moment of consideration.
"I'll send for one of the healers. They can help you with the bandages and reapply them afterwards." Jon said.
Daenerys grimaced and rubbed the bandaged wound again. "Damnable thing!" She cursed. "Is this really what burns feel like to the rest of you?"
"If it feels anything like mine, then yes." He confirmed.
"I'll need to remember that the next time I plan on setting someone on fire. I had no idea this is what it feels like…" She said thoughtfully.