Author's Notes: Welcome to the final chapter of 2020! This year feels like it has gone blazingly fast, which is a tad alarming to me. I hope 2021 is a lot less messy and a little bit slower in cadence. I wish you all a Happy New Year! Thank you all so much for the support you have given to TDR. It is truly a wonder.

The next update for TDR will be on 1/23/2021.

The ever amazing Catzrko0l helped beta this chapter. Don't hesitate to show her some love!

Book III: The Wars to Come

Chapter 87

Daenerys IX

"That's King Aemon Targaryen?" Daenerys whispered.

"Yes, that is his Grace," Ser Barristan said. He was squinting and cocked his head. "Is that …?"

"A dragon," Daenerys breathed, a smile coming to her lips. Even from a distance, she could see the dragon sitting on Aemon's shoulder, flapping its wings and crying out to join its cousins in the sky. Drogon and Rhaellon circled above and screeched back. She didn't expect her children to get any closer. She didn't know King Aemon any better than he knew her and he seemed to have similar reluctance to allow his dragon unfettered access to hers.

She, Ser Barristan, Ser Jorah Mormont, and a few of her Unsullied were sitting in the dinghy waiting to reach shore.

As they had approached Westeros, Daenerys' eagerness to see her nephew had reached a fever pitch. When she was younger, she remembered enjoying sailing and had fantasized captaining her own ship one day, climbing the rigging, and seeing the world. Viserys had scolded her for such unbecoming ambitions of a princess. Despite the fact that he was no longer towering over her, she did not indulge much in her passion. It was the only common ground she and Captain Lucia seemed to have anymore, and she preferred to steer all conversations that way to keep the waters between them neutral. But she was a Khaleesi, the Mother of her Dragons. Hers was the ruling family of Westeros. Much as it would have pleased her to break up the boredom of the journey, she had to maintain a certain dignity. Her only recourse was to walk the ship from stem to stern, and now, after several months of that, she was eager for the vast expanse of dry land.

Twice they had been becalmed when the wind inexplicably died. It was not for merely a few hours, but a few days at a time. There had been concern that supplies would run out, but they had managed. They were scraping the bottom of the last of the water barrels by the time they sailed into Blackwater Bay.

So it is true. He carries the blood of my family. She could feel the tension ease from her shoulders at the news. She had grown to appreciate Ser Barristan, particularly as a fount of information, but Ser Jorah had continued to whisper that all was not as it seemed, and that by marrying this king, she could be potentially propping up a false legacy.

There had been a rift between her and Ser Jorah for a time, but he was still her first confidant. No matter his allegiances, he had provided guidance and companionship through the Dothraki sea. He had been the only other person who spoke the common tongue who wasn't her brother during that time. He had even saved her life. After having only her brother for so long, it had been a relief to have another man whose first emotion wasn't violent rage. Even as much as she had been desiring to see her family, his dire warnings tickled the back of her head. She had spent enough of her life being meek and kowtowing to unworthy men. She was not about to do that in Westeros. Whether she married or not, she wanted it to be her decision and no one else's.

Once the boat was closer, the first thing that struck her was King Aemon's youth. Khal Drogo had been much older and he had larger muscles to fill out his frame. Even wearing a doublet, a cloak, and his crown, King Aemon was slight in build. His face was open and she thought there was an eagerness about him. Too often the men around her, notably Viserys and Drogo, seemed to have their faces stuck in permanent scowls. Xaro Xhoan Daxos had been beguiling, hiding his true intentions from her, and he had turned her out as soon as she became a hindrance. Pyat Pree had been conniving. Looks were deceiving, she had learned, but she felt a warmth in her soul at the thought of being so close to kin. Nevertheless, she would not let her guard down.

The crowd around King Aemon was not all smiles. Most everyone appeared pleasantly neutral, though she saw many glance nervously up at her circling dragons. One man who stood just behind King Aemon caught her eye. His hair was golden in the sun and he was standing awfully close to his king.

She nudged Ser Barristan. "Who's the man just behind King Aemon? On his right."

Ser Barristan drew a deep breath. "That's Lord Jaime Lannister."

Daenerys felt goose pimples prickle her skin and she suddenly felt chilled in the warm, muggy air. Her father's murderer was part of the greeting party. Her mouth firmed up into a tense frown and she felt fury fill her belly and make her heart pound. How dare a dragon include the Kingslayer! Just as quickly, she remembered Ser Barristan telling her that King Aemon had made the Kingslayer his Hand of the King. It stood to reason that the second most important man in the Seven Kingdoms would be there to greet a returning family member of the king's.

She abruptly tore her eyes from him and her gaze landed on a dwarf standing even with King Aemon. Her curiosity piqued, she asked, "Who is the dwarf?"

"That is Tyrion Lannister, Lord Jaime's brother. Awfully peculiar that he would be at the front," Ser Barristan replied, frowning pensively.

Daenerys blinked. She hadn't expected the infamous Kingslayer to have a dwarven brother. The dwarf maintained his dignity better than most people present, but when he glanced up at the dragons she thought she saw a smile playing on his lips.

As soon as the dinghy bumped into the dock, Aemon offered her a hand up.

"My lady," he said.

She hesitated a moment to give herself time to study him. She noticed he was trying to keep a sense of dignity and decorum, but there was no mistaking the excitement and happiness in his eyes that filled her with a sense of warmth and belonging. His dragon remained perched on his shoulder and now leaned with him, cocking its head and studying her in much the same way. She placed her hand in his and he helped her out onto the deck.

"Welcome home to King's Landing, Aunt Daenerys," he said and planted a chaste kiss on the back of her hand.

She smiled back. His happiness was infectious. "Thank you, Your Grace," she replied. "I must admit, there were times I wasn't sure I would be back."

"You can now banish the thought of ever being forced away again."

"It warms my heart to hear that, Your Grace. Who is this?" She asked, turning to the dragon. It had stopped calling out to the dragons above and seemed entranced with her.

"This is Rhaegal."

Daenerys worked to smother her smile. "Beautiful name. Interestingly enough, I gave one of my dragons the name of Rhaellon."

Aemon blinked at her in surprise. "Really? What a coincidence." He glanced up. "Which one?"

"The cream one. The black one is Drogon."

"Your dragons are quite a bit larger than my own. When did you hatch them?" King Aemon asked.

"I believe it's been about six months. I remember when they were as small as Rhaegal. They don't stay that small for long."

"I can imagine. Rhaegal's only five days old, but it feels like he's already doubled in size."

The rest of the party had been helped onto the dock by that point. King Aemon seemed torn as he looked between the two and then he said, "If you're willing, I would enjoy speaking with you more about your dragons. And possibly meeting them?"

"Of course, Your Grace," she replied, feeling the warmth of a kindred spirit.

She noticed that he seemed hesitant to tear his eyes from her, but he did so to address the rest of her party.

As soon as Ser Barristan had found solid ground, he went down to one knee in front of King Aemon. "Your Grace, I have returned Princess Daenerys to Westeros as you ordered."

"Thank you, Ser Barristan, you have performed your duty admirably. Was there any trouble?"

Ser Barristan hesitated just a hair. "Yes, there was an assassination attempt on Princess Daenerys, but I reached her in time to prevent any harm coming to her."

A shadow fell across King Aemon's face. "Were you able to determine who attempted it?"

"I did not investigate. Making Princess Daenerys safe was my first priority. We made a quick escape before Qarth authorities might stop us."

"Hmm …." King Aemon seemed troubled, but he nodded. "You did well, Ser Barristan."

"Thank you, Your Grace."

"You may rise," King Aemon said. As soon as Ser Barristan was on his feet, he fell back to stand just behind Aemon. The king then turned to Ser Jorah, who stiffened at the attention. "Ser Jorah Mormont." She thought she heard a measure of disdain in his voice.

"Your Grace," Ser Jorah replied coolly.

"You do not have to fear for your life and safety here. I did promise a pardon after all. As I understand it, you have been key to keeping my Aunt Daenerys safe, is that correct?" King Aemon turned to her as well.

"Yes, Your Grace," Daenerys said confidently. "I owe him my life on more than one occasion. He has also been a voice of reason in a sea of enemies." Whatever she felt knowing that he had acted as a spy reporting on her whereabouts, it did not change the fact that he had worked for her welfare. Amidst numerous enemies, he had proven himself a stalwart advocate at the least.

"Very well. We shall discuss your pardon in full detail at a later time."

Ser Jorah raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Full detail? Is it not a full pardon?"

"You have been pardoned of all wrongdoing. That does not mean you will be reinstated as Lord of Bear Island," King Aemon replied. "As I said, I would prefer to discuss the details later. I am sure after so many months on a ship, you would be interested in settling in."

Daenerys stiffened as King Aemon started leading her back to where the other members of his court were standing. She came to a halt still some feet away. Rhaegal cried and leaned for her from his perch on the king's shoulder, the chain at his neck pulling taut. King Aemon turned back, his expression was knowing and he was careful in his approach to her.

"If it bothers you so, I would dismiss everyone, but they are my allies. You will have to meet them eventually."

"How can you be so sure?" Daenerys whispered. "Ser Barristan told me you made the Kingslayer your Hand."

King Aemon nodded. "I did. He is trustworthy."

"He murdered your grandfather, my father. His actions led to the slaughter of the rest of our family," Daenerys hissed at him, feeling the emotion well up inside her. She had been especially torn after Ser Barristan related to her the circumstances of her father's death. There was no denying that he hadn't been a good man or even a sane one. But Princess Elia, Princess Rhaenys, and Prince Aegon had lost their lives. She would even argue that her own brother would be alive and sane today had they not been made pariahs in their own kingdom. With the Kingslayer there, walking into the Red Keep felt akin to walking into a death trap. "I don't trust him."

"I understand. Lord Jaime needs to earn your trust; I have already made that clear to him."

Daenerys drew her mouth into a firm line. "Why do you trust him?"

"Lord Jaime backed my claim at my most desperate hour. You have to understand the power his family holds. We wouldn't be here today if not for him. He arrested his own father for treason against me merely six weeks ago while I was sailing back from Dorne. He is a good man. He is an honorable man. He certainly takes some getting used to and he is not quick to trust."

Daenerys cast her eyes down and then up again, determined. "Would you not be able to dismiss him from the Red Keep?"

For the first time that morning, King Aemon's expression became tense. "Please, Aunt Daenerys, I beg that you not make me choose between the two of you. He is a member of my council and one of my most steadfast allies. After all that he has done for me, the Seven Kingdoms would consider it a slight against the both of us if I did such a thing."

Her insides twisted at the thought that she would likely be forced to become familiar with her father's murderer, but she knew King Aemon spoke sense. She was no stranger to temporarily allying with people who certainly did not have her best interests at heart. She made those gambles because she'd had few options, if any. But surely there were other choices than the Kingslayer either as a Hand or as a member of the Small Council. Ser Barristan and now King Aemon impressed upon her the power of the Lannister family. They had to be powerful indeed to overlook such crimes.

Rhaegal edged along King Aemon, his head leaning towards her and she scratched the back side of his neck. She thought he managed a type of guttural purr like that of a cat as he arched into her touch. When her own dragons were far above, Rhaegal gave her a sense of peace.

"Very well, but I must ask that you send him away for now. I am not ready to meet him."

"That will be done. Is there anyone else? Would you prefer not to meet my uncle, Lord Stark?"

Daenerys hesitated. "I won't mind your uncle. Ser Barristan told me about the rebellion, why it was started …." She grimaced.

King Aemon nodded. "'Twas a sad state of affairs all around."

He glanced over to the crowd and gave a simple jerk of his head. She watched in no small amount of awe as the Kingslayer immediately turned and threaded his way out of the crowd. She only started breathing easy once she saw him mount his horse and start riding back.

"Are you ready?" King Aemon asked.

She hesitated. "Yes."

She was not enthused that the first man she met was the Kingslayer's younger brother, Lord Tyrion Lannister, the new Hand of the King. He also placed a chaste kiss on her knuckles and said, "Welcome to King's Landing, Princess Daenerys. The city will be all the more beautiful with your return."

"Thank you, Lord Tyrion," Daenerys replied, surprised by his deep voice. Her brother had spoken of the Kingslayer as a monster and she would naturally extend that impression to the rest of his family, but if her first impressions were accurate, Lord Tyrion seemed intelligent and cordial.

Next she met Lord Eddard Stark. "Princess Daenerys, I am pleased that you have finally returned to your rightful home," he said, dipping his head. She had to restrain herself from laughing. Lord Stark gave the impression of a humble man with simple woolen clothes. She would never have taken the man to be the ferocious wolf of Winterfell.

Her head was spinning as she met a few more people who were members of the Small Council. She was particularly amused by Lady Olenna Tyrell. "Ah, you truly do look the part, my dear. And you have dragons? Hah! I thought it was impressive when King Aemon came back in the night with his dragon a week past. It seems the old magic is returning and the dragon blood is strong again. I will be particularly keen to hear your story. The rumors flying around here have you whipping slavers with their own chains. Nothing the brutes don't deserve."

One final encounter in particular pulled her up short. A handsome man with tan skin and dark hair gave her a bright smile. "I have seen little else to match your beauty, Princess Daenerys. I am a bit surprised and concerned that you appear to be alone. We had heard you had a brother."

King Aemon started. "That's right. I had heard my Uncle Viserys was with your party. Is he yet to come ashore?"

Daenerys' smile became fixed and her words had the sting of frostbite. "Had. My brother is dead."

Prince Oberyn frowned. "That is most unfortunate. Might I inquire as to how he died?"

King Aemon stepped between the two. "Prince Oberyn, this is hardly the appropriate occasion or the time to discuss this. My aunt is tired—"

"He sealed his fate in Vaes Dothrak when he entered the city with a weapon. My husband, Khal Drogo, killed him," Daenerys replied.

It felt like the air had been sucked out of the vicinity. King Aemon's mouth fell open in alarm and Prince Oberyn grimaced. "I beg your forgiveness, Princess. It was rude of me to ask. I understand your pain."

"Thank you."

With Prince Oberyn out of the way, she was offered a ride in a carriage or on a horse. The mare offered to her was white with a darkened nose and feet. It reminded her of her silver mare and so she opted to ride the horse. Men dressed in gold armor lined the streets to keep the people of King's Landing at bay. The people screamed and cheered and gaped at her, many of them lunging with outstretched hands, but there was just enough space that their fingers missed her. Chants of "Targaryen" filled the streets and she felt tears pricking her eyes. Her brother had always told her that they were secretly beloved and the loyalists in Westeros were awaiting their triumphant return. It seemed this was the truest thing her brother had ever told her, and she smiled.

The ride to the Red Keep was brief and uneventful, though Daenerys repeatedly caught King Aemon staring at her. The impression he gave was that he could not quite believe his eyes. They rode through the gates of the Red Keep and the nobility were lined up much like the peasantry. There were cheers, but it lacked the energy from the people. Already she felt her smile tightening, wondering how many of the nobility were already spinning their schemes against her. If one thing rang true about Ser Jorah's advice, it's that she could always expect someone to be working against her.

I have to make nice. I expect to be here for years to come. King Aemon is my nephew and I do not wish to be split from him again, she thought. His proposal of marriage suddenly loomed large in her mind, but she pushed it away. He'd been wise enough already to not mention it first thing on the docks; she would be interested in seeing how long that lasted. Perhaps now that he'd hatched a dragon—undeniable proof of his claim as a Targaryen—he would not be so desperate for a marriage straightaway. She would see how long it took him to bring it to her attention. So far she found him remarkably polite and pleasant. He'd even sent the Kingslayer away at her insistence.

At the thought of the Kingslayer, she looked around among the faces while atop her horse. She did not see the familiar golden blond and angular features that had caught her eye before. Perhaps he had actually hidden himself away. Whatever the reason, she was still glad of his absence.

King Aemon was at her side with yet another outstretched hand. Ser Barristan had similar ideas of courtesy and chivalry, but it rankled her to be helped with every little thing. Just cooperate, she reminded herself. She took his hand and jumped down. It had been easy to do with her blue dress and trouser combination. She eyed the poofy bustles of the noblewomen in the courtyard and frowned, hoping that she would never have to convert to such formal levels of dress. She wouldn't stand for it.

Her dragons screeched above and wheeled through the sky. Their shadows passed over the courtyard and she noticed everyone gasp and duck. She called out to them in Valyrian: Stay away, children. I will call for you soon! Their cries faded into the distance. She felt a pang at their absence, but tried to stay aloof and self-assured. Focusing on King Aemon's own dragon steadied her. Rhaegal once more called out to Drogon and Rhaellon. King Aemon delicately stroked his scales.

"Steady there, Rhaegal. You'll meet them soon enough," King Aemon said to him in a low voice that soothed her as well. "We will be meeting them, right?"

"Perhaps tomorrow," she said, a smile playing on her lips. "When we're not exhausted."

"I would be most grateful," he replied. "Shall I show you to your rooms?"

"Please."

Ser Barristan, Ser Jorah, and her bloodriders followed them. Apart from the sounds of their footsteps, they walked in silence. She would say it was the silence of new acquaintances rather than it being awkward. A dockside chat and a short ride to the Keep was hardly a solid basis for friendship. She appreciated that he did not punctuate the air with nervous gibberings. For one so young, he seemed remarkably at ease. Then again, they were of an age. Perhaps it had to do with their proper breeding. They were true dragons, where Viserys hadn't been.

"These are your quarters," King Aemon said, holding the door open for her.

She walked in to find it spacious and airy. A single tapestry with the Targaryen seal hung on the wall, but otherwise the room was in yellows and soft blues. After nearly five months aboard a ship, it was a simple blessing that it did not rock. A line of half a dozen young ladies stood on the other side of the room.

"These will be your handmaids. They will get you anything you wish," Aemon said.

"I have my own handmaids. I would have them continue to serve me. They are Missandei, Jhiqui, Irri, and Doreah."

"I believe Lord Velaryon is overseeing the disembarking on your ships. I will pass the message along to send them to you."

She nodded. "What of my Unsullied?"

"They are yours, yes? What do you expect of them?"

"I wish for them to be my protection."

"It will be done. How many Unsullied are there?"

"Ten thousand."

She was surprised at the lack of shock that registered on his face as he simply nodded.

"We'll find a permanent place for them. We weren't expecting such a large force, so it could take some time."

"I'd prefer to talk about their accommodations with my Commander, Grey Worm, present."

"A place will be found for them tonight and we'll discuss it in the morning. Is that agreeable?"

"Yes, that will do. There's also a certain Captain Lucia Hardy. She provided the vessels necessary to carry my army here to King's Landing. She still expects compensation. I presumed you'd be willing to pay her price."

King Aemon glanced back at Ser Barristan with a puzzled frown before turning back to her. "That can also be an item we discuss with her tomorrow."

"I presume there are to be festivities tonight?"

King Aemon grinned. "Of course! Your arrival has been much anticipated."

"Then I would appreciate the time to freshen up," she replied.

King Aemon nodded at her. He turned to walk away and then she said, "Wait. I wish to see my dragons tonight. I understand they are likely too big to be kept in my rooms but they still need me."

"We have a godswood. Ser Barristan will be able to show you where it is," King Aemon said, glancing back at the knight.

"Of course, Your Grace."

With that, they departed. Daenerys closed her eyes and breathed deeply. This is home. I am home, she told herself. It was a surreal feeling knowing that she was finally in a place where she was actively wanted and not only as a means to an end. Though that remains to be seen, she thought ruefully.

Although Ser Jorah and her bloodriders were standing just outside the door, she wouldn't feel like she was on solid ground until Missandei was at her side. The young woman had become a confidant that she had originally hoped to find in Captain Lucia. With little else to do, they had spent hours talking, and for the first time in her life, she felt she had found a true friend.

Daenerys was gratified that she would not have to sail these uncharted waters alone.

Author's Notes:

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