Chapter 9: Fire and Blood
AN: Wow it's been two years, quite a hiatus. Truth is, boarding school had taken up all my energy and now that I am on exam leave I have all the time in the world to ponder, so I decided to write this story a new chapter. I know I usually answer comments her but it's been two years and you've probably forgotten what you've even said in your last comment. But without further ado her is the new chapter, I hope you enjoy it :).
•Daenyre's POV: •
The sky looked as though it was covered in dark purple and lilac splotches as Rhaenyras cut through air and resistance like a knife. For a second Daenyre believed that she was about to fall off as she felt the wind about her hit her like a thousand whips.
Crack! She still remembered the sound of Viserys' wrists being snapped by the Khal's two Kos as if they were made out of simple fabric. Few things have fazed Daenyre Blackfyre in her life, Baelon Greyjoy's sons being routinely put to the sword by the usurpers' dogs, a woman whom she considered like her mother dying in childbed. She stood vigil and to both, remembering the horrible screams ringing in her ears, the stench of fresh blood overcloud her nostrils. But the act of kinslaying before her shocked her to the bone, an end to a short sad life indeed thought Daenyre calmly.
As she sped through the turbulent winds bareheaded , she lost herself in the atmospheric splendour of the infinite sky and the coolness of the air contrasting the warmness of her dragon. She never felt like a true queen, not when the Golden Company proclaimed her as such, placing a silver forged circlet on her hair, not when her dragon finally hatched. But when she looked bellow her at the vulnerable scanty settlements, and felt the heat under her thighs be produced and shot out of the dragon against the cold night sky and into the billions of stars. she realised that that is how a queen felt.
Daenyre landed with a thud, as she felt her prolonged flight was due to an end. She could not neglect her duties for too long, she had reminded herself, and despite her not wanting to do nothing more but to ride off into the darkness and away from the world and all its cruelty. She had an army to reassure, and a failure on her behalf to justify, as she was about to remount she felt the presence of thousands of men behind her, half with solemn looks, the others with disappointment and the rest were riddled with melancholy, all were upset as their loyalties were dwindling.
'Our word is as good as gold' they claimed, but over the past centuries they were led by none other than the most fearsome of Dragons, she knew she was about to find out if their worlds were true, or if they only applied when chanted by strong leader such as the likes of Bittersteel.
Balaq ever the faithful servant awaited her, together with the fewer followers she had left They'll rid off me, and follow Daenerys as soon as they have delt with me thought Daenyre as she looked at her pale shivering hands against the dragon's purple scales. She knew perfectly well the true reason why they were shivering and why she felt a pang of sadness overcome her.
'My queen' bowed Balaq as he looked down in an attempt to hide his thoughts 'What of the invasion?'
'What of it?' Asked Daenyre fearing what he would say next
A short silence followed, where the young queen could feel the distrust in her sworn swords' eyes reach her as they wondered how she could be so oblivious.
'My friends, I truly apologise for the mistake I have made, I could never have dreamt that the pretender's death would be so untimely, I thought... But now that Robert is dead, I believe that now is the time to...' She stuttered, unknowing in the ways of leader, her natural charm was no aid in those circumstances as she surveyed the reluctant stares that graced the troops' faces. As she grew more nervous, she stopped. The opportunity of stopping seemed most arousing to her in this Instance.
She sighed sadly as she realised that with no more than five words she could prevent another Blackfyre rebellion, she could save the lives of the thousands that were about to be slaughtered to make way for her throne, while doing nothing. She could return to Saerra's establishment and live out her days as nothing but a young girl with a special lineage, amongst her other Lyseni fair-haired friends.
Whilst already seven and ten, she was still a young and eligible maiden, impoverished herself but hopefully she would be able to make up for it in beauty and wit, and find herself a sell sword or even a prince if she was delusional enough to believe so. She could sell Blackfyre and live out her days as a wealthy woman until her last breath, her womb quickening with children and then her stomach with the best food money could buy.
'Your grace...' Started Balaq as his eyes were transfixed on the girl before him, who stood before them, in a stately composure not moving, just staring into the ground. Was she truly worthy of their company? Could she lead troops into battle if she couldn't even inspire them? She was nothing but a girl to the other commanders, and to him she now seemed just as well, The Blackfyre cause seemed just as doomed as Valyria now.
With that Lysono quickly silenced him, with a deadly stare, and stepped forward ready to once again criticise her, whatever it was.
No, I am not here to bargain, the dragon does not explain herself, these men swore their oaths to me, they shall follow me into their deaths
She was blood of the dragon, the only woman alive in the last hundreds of years to bring the likes of a dragon, a dragon that was already fast enough to set an entire army ablaze in just seconds, as even the tides parted to let the beats through. The Lord of light or whichever god made it clear that the throne was meant for her, as she achieved what hundreds of other Targaryens have perished trying to do.
'I am made for greater marriages than a sellsword, I, am, made to carry the next heir in her womb not another bastard' she repeated in her mind, in constant repetition.
Undistinguished. Unimportant, those two words kept repeating in her head relentlessly as images of her would-be life that she had yearned for minutes ago flashed in her head.
I will not be Undistinguished. unimportant, the dead pretender of a dead pretender.
She stood up as straight as possible and looked Lysono Marr squarely in they eye.
'Followers!' She shouted loud enough for all ten thousand men to hear clearly in her ears. To the majority it was clear she was about to breath fire.
'Khal Drogo's Khalasar remains savage as ever, and I do not care if we did not trick them into our side as I had originally planned.' Daenyre reaffirmed herself as her voice adopted a more savage and strong tone. 'I do not stand here to win you over with empty promises of lands and lordships once I take back the throne that rightfully belonged to my father and those before him, but I am here to promise you that under my command none of the 10,000 of you will be deprived off blood and a good killing'
In haste she picked a branch off the ground, 'Dracarys' she commanded as a violet tinged flame shot out of the dragons' jaws igniting the wood. It was finally under the light that the daring princess could finally see how many men were stood before her.
Men seasoned in battle, men ready to kill while she stood there appearing like an innocent maid of King's Landing peering at the thousands' capable of spilling rivers of blood under her command. She shrugged, 'everyone had to start from somewhere, they were all boys once' she thought.
Her face adopted a stern and confident expression as soon as the fire made her authority over these masses more clear, yet her knees knocked together in fear.
Daenyre stood, today she looked like a Dothraki savage, like a twin of Daenerys in her Dothraki garb and braided hair, but her mannerism and untouched Westerosi accent told a different truth.
She pointed at the violet and blue scaled beast behind her, a beast the size of a horse with frightening reptilian violet eyes approached her 'witness before you the dragon, a true dragon what my petty cousins the Targaryens have been lacking for the last century, this is worth one hundred thousand Dothraki screamers' shot Daenyre 'and it is mine, and with it I could give every one of you the opportunity to spill the blood of any living man that dares to oppose us' she stood, surprised to see the rest of the mercanies gather up behind her, she smiled a malicious smile, which to the older members was more akin to Maelys' than any cutthroat in the world 'and my fire will do the rest' she ended with a smirk as she saw even the skeptical Lysono Marr bow before her prompting the 10,000 men to follow shortly after.
As she saw the bent figures of thousands of men before her, that majesty made more majestic by the flame light contrasting against the cold night sky, she felt more powerful than ever, 'this is what Daemon Blackfyre should have felt' thought Daenyre as she proudly remembered her great-grandfather. 'I shall give you another battle of redgrass field' she promised 'A bloody one to match the last one' as she started waving her beacon as she paced around the drown -trodden land.
But hopefully with a very different outcome
Cheers far and wide met her whilfulness, and Daenyre knew that what was done was done, Westeros was now only moons away from another coming of dragons. But first she had to march east to go west.
—
• The Dreamers •
Thirty leagues from where the vengeful dragon queen re-bought her army with promises of fire and blood, another stood brooding, waiting, worrying there was not much she could do about her situation.
As Daenerys' violet eyes quickly dashed across the room observing the ragged and tattered surroundings of her new home she tried to find a reason why she could not sleep.
Perhaps it was the fear of Viserys' smile as he was promised the one thing he had fought for being branded in the back of her drowsy eyelids for eternity like the 'T' they brand on the thief's of fleebottom.
Perhaps she was scared of Viserys' screams ringing in her ears in times of true silence and peace when all the noice was gone, if there were ever such times.
She felt as scared of the memory of his death now as she was of his ambitions when she was alive.
She hoped it was truly the baby in her that caused this restlessness within her, as she clutched her quickening womb, she knew that the stallion who mounts the world is eager to be let out, the stallion that very nearly got speared by his jealous uncle, jealous that an unborn child received more appraisal than he ever had, a mindless, unseasoned little boy commanded more respect of her people then the men who allegedly paid for them with Daenerys' maidenhead.
She shivered as she imagined his body outside left to the dogs as she did not have enough nerve to tell her sun and stars to burn his corpse, the Targaryen way.
But then the baby continued kicking in her womb, reminding her of his coming, 'my child' she thought sadly 'and he was to take him away from me'.
In a sweep of her sand-coloured silks she was up and walking towards the eggs, picking each one up in turn and glaring at their beauty, 'what would it be like to have a dragon, a dragon so mighty and strong, one to match Daenyre's she thought jealously.
As she was about to once again feel the ragged nature of the White and cream one, the one that had chipped the most.
A brusque sound was heard behind her. An unsettling feeling creeped around her body, and her eyes widened as she turned around to see none other than Daenyre Blackfyre.
'You scared me!' Daenerys said trying to regain her composure as Daenyre's coming broke a silence that she got used to.
She looked at her and she looked much the same, same sun touched skin, same wide dark plum eyes but to her surprise they appeared lifeless and cold.
The women were from the on standing in silence for a moment longer than comfort would allow until Daenyre, finally looked down at her worn-in sandals and said; 'You once told me that It would be better for the last dragons to stay close'
She finally looked at Daenerys this time her eyes filled with fire, the fire they lacked at the demise of their cousin. 'And I agreed' however circumstances divide them, that much was obvious, Daenerys knew.
Her cousin was the black dragon, the last Blackfyre on this world, descended from a family of princes whose blood rights and claims were slaughtered one after the other by the men serving her house. No wonder the death of Daenerys' brother shocked her.
As the night darkened, the two reflections stared at each other, the last two dragon ladies alive, The same they looked as if they were sisters. but as different in nature, as Dany supposed Visenya and Rhaenys were as different as Daena the Defiant and Naerys were.
As this farewell, was becoming uncomfortable to bear Daenyre advanced towards Daenerys and hugged her. 'Keep safe sister' she said in a softer voice than ever as she pulled away and let her touch Blackfyre for one last time, as she came to fetch it.
'Keep on growing strong', those were the words Daenerys remembers as her last blood left the tent flaps, and her steel-blonde braid became a memory.
As uneasiness grew within her she found it harder to remind herself that she would be able to thrive on her own, with no brother, mad or not to tell her fibs (as she came to realise) of home, without the closest human she has ever had to a sister.
'It is for the better' Daenerys finally repeated as she clutched Rhaego with one hand and the White and gold egg in the other, and before she realised, she fell into a deep slumber, dreaming of her three eggs hatching, the White dragon evaporating the rivers, the Green dragon setting the grass to ashes, and finally the Red dragon, the mightiest of them all cooking the usurpers' dogs within their castles.
Little did she know that not too far away, there was another one, another of her blood and house, dreaming of his own dragon as he wished he had one, to match Rhaenyras. Unfortunately, all he could now do was dream as he lay there helpless and awaiting a delayed death.