Winter has Come by thepkrmgc
Chapter Four: Blood of Drakon
Standard fanfiction disclaimer: All intellectual property belongs to its rightful owners.
Daenerys wasn't sure if she believed her brothers tales of a world beyond the Circle of Magi. New apprentices were constantly being tossed in of course, but the cold stone walls were the only horizon she had ever seen. Viserys had told her that they had been taken from their birthright by the Templar usurpers when she had been a babe in arms. While Dany cherished his stories, she did wish that he would tell them quieter. The Templars were always listening and they frowned upon anything that might give mages ideas.
She knew he fought day and night to shield her from Templars and demons alike but for all he boasted about being "the blood of Drakon" he was only human. Dany had learned long ago that fighting only singled you out as "someone to watch" and had shaved her silver-gold hair in order to more easily blend in with the crowd. Viserys had never learned that lesson and wore his lustrous hair down to his waste, even as he gathered an ever growing collection of burns and bruise: carrying each scar like a badge of honor earned in his one man crusade for freedom. Had he not been among the most powerful elementalist's of his generation he would surely have been publicly executed. The Templars liked to make examples of mages who voiced their discontent. As it was Viserys boasted of foiling their numerous covert attempts on his person, loudly announcing things like, "A wizard who is tired of picking broken glass out of his dinner is tired of life" when rations were handed out.
Dany often wished that she could ease her brother's pain. But despite the countless hours of instruction spent with Wynne she could not heal so much as a stubbed toe, let alone the myriad injuries her brother earned in her defense. Yet the power the seven had withheld from creation they lavished on destruction: fire catered to her beck and call like a dog to its master, needing only her permission to be at her side. Though Daenerys was gentle by nature and would have preferred to heal pain rather then inflict it there was no denying its usefulness: the circle tower was a dangerous place.
Centuries of demonic incursions had sundered the veil, and the barrier between planes was so thin as to be almost nonexistent. Demons could manifest at will, any apprentice separated from the herd was easy prey for the hunger demons that roamed the labyrinthine corridors of the tower. Yet the common rooms held their own perils, as not even the most senior enchanters were completely immune to the voices in their heads. Every so often a mage would snap and fling themselves at the Templars, unleashing their magic on anyone in their way.
Not even the animals were immune. A blond haired apostate had managed to smuggle in his pet kitten a few years back. Poor Ser Pounce A Lot had hardly been in the tower a week when he was possessed by a demon of vengeance: the little thing had ambushed a dozen Templars before it tried the same trick on knight commander Gregoir and was put out of its misery. In the tower even the mosquitos were possessed by hunger demons.
While friendship among mages was discouraged by the Templar overseers, a cabal of sorts had sprung up around the Amell siblings. First had been Jowan, the klutzy boy had initially gravitated toward her brother in hopes of protection. Viserys always had a weakness for sycophants and jowan had toaught her the finer points of avoiding templar attention. And then there was Edric: she had met the young Surana during one of her fruitless sessions with Wynne. The rambunctious elf was a libertarian prodigy, and his nigh miraculous healing skills were often held up as an example of the good magekind could do if they were let off their leash. After Edric had cured the knight commander's favorite niece of greyscale such talk was carefully ignored.
Although one would be hard pressed to find a set of two individuals more dissimilar then the affable healer and timid pyromancer, the two soon became fast friends. If the disquieting atmosphere that pervaded the tower impeded normal relations, it ensured that the ones that survived the gauntlet were bound in blood. Of late Daenerys had taken increasing notice of his winsome smile and how she always felt safer when he was nearby, his warm presence like a cozy fire against the tower's cold stone. She had been building up the nerve to ask whether those feeling were shared when the day of her harrowing came at last.
Author commentary: World-building is HARD, and trying to keep a schedule amid the trials of life is even harder. Trying my hand at writing a fic of my own has given me a new respect for those masters of the craft who keep it together and tell the stories we all love to see.
While most of the ASOIF characters are older then cannon, we are seeing Dany at the age she is in in AGOT.
Enjoy!