authorsnote: we are moving slowly because this will be the slowest portion of the story, trust me when I say it will HEAT up (pun intended)

again ships wont be revealed for a lil while (but are set)

songrecs: I'm sorry for today - got season 4

'If I look back, I am lost'

- thoughts of Daenerys Targaryen

-x-

It was only a month after they'd visited the market (and not returned, they could swear the number of guards had doubled after their little jaunt), that things seemed to take an odd turn of events.

A polite way of suggesting everything suddenly went completely and utterly crazy.

A visit from Varys started the insanity, usually he produced sweets, asked for tales of their education and they begged for tales of Westeros. It was a little dance in a spider's web, sweet, kind, unchanging since they were young children and Dany had bounced on his lap. It was a kind of … continuity, a nice one.

And yet, the consistency was broken, as he came hurrying in, a look of concern on his face, not even pausing to greet the children (who were stuck in lessons and so not even aware of his visit), but quickly called for a servant to fetch Jory and Wylla.

Not for children's ears.

"They're coming" His words were hurried, eliciting a gasp from Wylla and a resigned sort of sigh from Jory, nothing more needed to be said to indicate what he meant, they knew, they had almost been waiting for this and it was here.

"When?" The Northern man asked, and Varys shook his head.

"Soon, too soon" He scowled then, and glanced over his shoulder, thankful the children couldn't hear him, "The assassins will be crossing the narrow sea as we speak, I only didn't know because the King kept this between him and the swords he ordered here, even my little birds couldn't penetrate those walls, concerning, I must recruit more"

"Then we'll flee" It was Jory who seemed to get ahold of himself faster, though Wylla was nodding then, what other choice did they have? Assassins came for the children, and they must be protected, protected at all costs.

Kings and Queens … Targaryen Kings and Queens, no assassin would have them, not whilst he had breath left in his body, and as Wylla straightened he knew she was the same.

"We leave tonight" Jory said, and Varys nodded. "Wylla, get the servants to pack the essentials, food for a journey, a change of clothes or two for the children and you and I, and the gold, silver, and jewels, stuff we can sell easily, things that will give enough gold to last"

"I must get back to Westeros" Varys nodded, "But this couldn't be trusted by raven, nor what comes next, I'll be back soon, sooner than normal if possible"

"Where do we go?" Wylla asked, and even Jory paused then.

"Volantis" Varys said, with little explanation, "Larger, easier to hide, and you can rent a house there, find Master Lolias, tell him I sent you and he will find you a place high in luxury, cheap in rent" The three nodded then.

They had known this day would come, as the children grew, as they became threats, not just babies hidden away. It had come sooner than expected, but it was here, and they had to act.

"How is Ned?" Jory asked, as he always did each and every time.

"Fine, he doesn't know, I go there next then back to the South, would you like me to tell Lord Stark anything?" Varys shot back, there was no time for the Spiders usual word play and dilly dallying.

Jory just shook his head, always practical, loyal, and Wylla took his hand in comfort.

"I'll be back soon, look after them, they are the future" Was all Varys said, a bow and then he was gone, a spider scuttling through the manse, and away back to Westeros.

Jory and Wylla moved then, but they didn't scuttle, they ran, and by nightfall, their valuables packed in bags, hoods hiding their heads, eyes wide with fear, so did the children the assassins sought.

'They are the future'

It was something they had said so many times, again and again, because it was the truth. The three children, two Kings and Queen were the future of Westeros.

Robert Baratheon with his drinking and whoring was no future, and worse vipers would come after him. The Lannister's, mad with incest, greed, and cruelty. No, they could not be allowed to rule their home, not when there was another choice.

The children, the children were the future, just and smart Aegon, honourable and skilled Jon, kind and learned Daenerys, the Targaryen dynasty, and Jory and Wylla would see them safe and returned to that home one day.

'They are the future' That saying was burned into them as they fled in the night from the knives at their back, towards a future unknown.

The journey to Volantis was hot, uncomfortable, and dull.

She missed the Manse, she missed her lessons (strangely enough), her nice clothes and the good food. Here there were only harsh lessons from Jory and Wylla in how to hide, basic self defense, and practical lessons she'd never needed to learn – how to haggle, barter and blend in. Here her clothes hadn't been washed and were dull and sand coloured, here they ate at the side of the road, and the food was bland.

And yet, she understood why it was this way, had barely looked forward, always over her shoulder since they'd fled, but even if she understood, she didn't have to like it.

Jon and Aegon adapted better, Jon the most. He was fine with plain clothes, sparring on the side of the road, the basics. Aegon adjusted better than her but he liked his luxuries and too complained at the scratchy tunics and bland food – though only a little, like she did, complaining was good natured, they knew why this was as it was.

Jon struggled more with the heat pounding down on them. With her and Aegon's fair colouring they adapted to it easier, their Targaryen blood used to the beating sun. Yes, she had to be careful not to burn, her and Aegon both wore sand coloured cowls that protected their skin, Jon did too, but grumbled, he was too Northern to ever enjoy the sun.

Still, this was the road they were led down now, the uncomfortable, itchy road.

She remembered a week before, being shaken awake in the middle of the night, dressed quickly, leaving so many of her things behind, hurried onto a horse and fleeing their home without so much as a goodbye. She remembered Aegon and Jon both fierce but terrified as they ran around to help pack, stuffing gold and necklaces and rings into bags to sell later, as she hurried, grabbing fine silks and silver coins too.

They had enough to barter with now, more than enough, but the food was running out, hard bread and oats swilled with water sustained them, but they'd need to reach Volantis soon. At the time getting enough riches to see them not begging further down the journey had been key, but now she had wished to have the forethought to pack some apples or cheese.

But no, they had little space, and aside from packing riches to sell, they had each been permitted one small bag to carry personal items.

Danys held a hairbrush her Mother had owned, it was silver, carved of whale bone, opulent and glittering, with their family sigil carved into the back. It also held a shawl Aegon and Jon had purchased her for her 12th nameday, it had been spun from azure silk and had tiny diamonds on the edges, Dany knew her brothers had saved for months (out of their allowance) to buy it, and so she treasured it dearly. She had also packed her lute, a cherry red, wooden instrument she had spent hours plucking in her lessons, and then an ornate necklace she had never worn, again her Mothers, but not to be worn by her yet. It was heavy with rubies and diamonds, dragons carved into the silver and it was the necklace she had always envisioned herself wearing as she sat on her Throne, as Queen.

Finally, she had managed to pack three of her favoured dresses (but didn't dare wear them on the road), and that was her bag full, she had shown Jon and Aegon the first night they'd made camp, huddled in in a little shelter between some rocks, and they had shown her there's.

Aegon's held two of his favourite tunics, both screaming his Targaryen heritage, red and black and proudly displaying the dragon. It also held a carved dagger Jon had given him for his latest nameday, it was engraved 'to my brother' which he cherished dearly. His also held his favoured money pouch Jory had given him years ago, it was his least opulent thing, simple, leather, with his initials carved delicately into the handle, it was less expensive but held great value for its practicality and usefullness. Finally, he had packed a glittering, shimmering with diamonds knife holder that had been gifted by his Father before he had been born.

It was the last item that had struck Dany as she had seen it though, it was a drawing she had done of the three of them, on a simple scroll, sketched with pencil and dark chalk. She had some talent with drawing yes, but she had never considered any of her siblings would keep anything she drew, but here it was. She had misted up when she had seen it.

Jon's bag was … it was fair to say the most practical of all of them.

It held a dagger but unlike Aegon's it wasn't carved or intricate, it had been his first dagger from Jory, simple, made of wood at the handle and then razor sharp steel, with the Stark sigil on the hilt but roughly carved not ornate. It did sit in a dagger holder Aegon had gifted him, which shimmered with diamonds, though she knew Jon valued it more as a gift than for the opulence. His did hold two tunics as well, of very good quality, the Stark and Targaryen sigils proudly displayed on both, a mixing of his heritage. It also held a spyglass which Wylla had found for him at a market, it was long, of very high quality but without any fancy carvings, it was purely practical but had an excellent lens. Finally he had one sentimental item at the bottom, a blanket, small, impractical but the one his Mother had wrapped him in before her death, it even had a winter rose (long dead but the petals dried out) pressed between the threads.

All three had also managed to pack a book each. Dany's: 'The Targaryen Queens and the Dragons they rode' a newish volume that depicted the stories of Good Queen Alysanne and Silverwing, Rhaena Targaryen and Dreamfyre and many others. Dany had read it many a times since receiving it two years earlier and had even placed scraps of paper to mark her favourite chapters.

Aegon's was an extremely old and weathered copy of 'Aegon's Conquest: The Forging of a Targaryen Dynasty' it was his favourite story and he had often read it to them before they'd all slept when they'd shared a room (and sometimes when they all snuck under Dany's bed with a mountain of pillows and stayed together, less now they were older but still at least once a month).

Jon's had managed to cram in two books: 'The Reign of Jaehaerys Targaryen, the longest reigning monarch Westeros has seen'. Jon admired Jaehaerys, their ancestor who by all accounts had been a good, just King with a long reign. His copy too was well thumbed, and he had even folded down the corners of his favourite pages. His second was: 'The History of the North' A simple title for a large volume that Lord Stark had sent over to them. This was much older, much more worn but Jon had read it at least two dozen times, and he had found room for it.

And so, they had fled with about ten possessions each to their name, a mountain of goods, jewels, and silks to sell on, enough (tasteless) food to last them the journey, five swift horses and that was all.

An entire Manse, a childhood, everything gone in the blink of an eye.

Not just their possessions but their memories, their childhood, gone. All because of assassins sent by men not good enough to rule the Throne. To look at all three of them you could see it weighed on them. Aegon had been pacing more often, his lips curved in a grimace. Jon had been brooding even harder, his mouth turned down in a frown, and Dany? Dany was perhaps taking it hardest of all.

It felt like a turning point for the three Targaryen's, the moment they had left the Manse behind, only a backward glance the last look at it before they'd been hurried along. A turning point, a change, an ending of something.

Childhood? Calm? None of them knew, but they did know they would likely never return, and they said goodbye to one home as they looked forward to another.

Later that day, when they had stopped for the night, the burning sun giving way to a muggy night with the stars twinkling overhead Dany contemplated all that happened that week, as she sat under the sheets of fabric Jory had secured to cover them, the makeshift almost Manse like structure flapping in the sandy wind over them, but protecting them from the elements.

Was she childish to mourn for things? Material possessions? Pretty dresses she'd never got to wear, books she hadn't had room for, her bedroom she'd never sleep in again? She felt childish, but she couldn't shake the sense of loss as they settled in for the night, the heat persistent, annoying. What she wouldn't give for a nice bath … she even felt a slight twinge for the tub at the Manse, she remembered the small chip on one side from where Jon had dropped an ornament (and had run into their once shared room in a towel, flustered and made them promise not to tell anyone), and that was when it hit her.

It was the memories that came with the Manse. Yes she still had them, but she felt a pang as she thought of her home, they had no choice in leaving it, ripped away, to make no new memories there, and that perhaps hurt the most.

She could see Jory taking watch then, she knew he and Jon and Aegon took turns keeping watch (Jon and Aegon had insisted on helping when Jory had sat watch two nights in a row), could see Wylla sorting them each out some water for the night ahead before settling herself. She could see Aegon was fast asleep, and Jon settling down. Only she remained sat up, wide awake, unable to relax.

She felt an odd sense of change about them. Yes, they'd been warned before this could happen, cut throats could hunt them across the sea, the Baratheon's and Lannister's ready to come after them finally. They knew this was a possibility, but it had seemed so far away, she'd grown comfortable, at ease, happy.

And now it had all been ripped away, and the future seemed so unknown. It scared her. When she thought past the Manse and the life she mourned there it was even worse, to think of what was next, and the fear she felt with it.

'A dragon is not scared, Targaryen's do not cower or flee' Aegon would laugh as they had in the past talked about the assassins chasing them.

'It is sometimes wise to be afraid' Jon would council, 'Bravery can come from fear, and then the opponent stands useless, all threat gone on the battlefield as bravery prevails'

Both spoke of bravery as though it were natural. Aegon may have just had his bravery or trusted his name and blood to give it, Jon's came from fear and certainty to overcome it, but where was hers? Did it exist?

All she could feel about the future was fear, so how brave was she?

"Looks like someone's worrying…"

She was shaken out of her thinking by Aegon's teasing tone, as he sat one side of her and then Jon the other, she had been so absorbed she hadn't noticed them coming over to her.

She did notice as Jon shoved Aegon and glowered at him though before taking one of her hands in his, "Don't be horrible Aegon, it's a worrying time for all of us"

At her expression and Jon's words Aegon seemed to grow solemn and his hand took her others, the three of them connected, in a line, the three Targaryen's. It gave her some ease, but not enough.

"I'm sorry" Aegon could be arrogant at times (as could she and Jon too), but he was at heart kind, "What's worrying you Dany?"

"The future" She admitted, for she would never lie to her family, not between the three of them. They had a special kind of connection. They all loved Jory and Wylla of course, like Uncle and Aunt but it wasn't the same as what they had.

Connection, sibling bond? She wasn't sure what to call it, but it was there, the three of them forged and connected, that none could break.

"It is worrying, not knowing what's coming" Jon said, and she nodded, that was expected. Jon was a tactician, he liked to plan, to know what was next, "But we will face it" Ahh there was his arrogance, though was it arrogance on Jon? Or more a confidence she envied?

"We will" Aegon confirmed and squeezed her hand, though when he saw the worry still in her eyes, he hushed his tone, "We're all scared Dany" She knew only she and Jon could hear him. Aegon did feel fear, he just didn't like anyone to know it.

"Really?" She asked immediately, she had known they were worried, but scared? She felt an odd sense of comfort she wasn't alone in her fear.

"Of course, everyone feels fear, or at least anyone who is smart" Jon said, and then he smiled at her, and she saw Aegon clap his spare hand on his brother's shoulder.

Connected.

"And we'll get through it, the fear" He said with a nod, "Together"

"Together" Aegon confirmed, and she nodded and repeated.

"Together"

It was hard to feel scared as the three of them settled down, still holding hands as they settled in for sleep. Hard to feel scared when they had each other when they had reassured her so. Some still lingered of course, to the unknown, the change, the new, the threat that pursued them, but she felt a sense of hope too, a bloom of encouragement.

Together.

They could face anything.

Together.

yes our poor bbys are not wed to one place, I always think of viserys/dany having to run about

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let me know watcha think and speak soon!