Chapter 32: At Journey's End

Sighing, at least Arthur explained it was on short notice.

Daenerys brushed what had to be the fifth feather from her dress - not enough, for the fabric was covered in the down of the hold of caged chickens being transited on the large trading galley to Volantis from Lys. Apparently the only manner of passage Arthur could get to sail them out that night was work on the merchantman, allowing them to sail to Volantis in exchange for feeding the chickens in the hold.

Granted, Daenerys didn't mind, but it was a damned of a time trying to keep Lady, Ghost, and Moonlight from growling at the chickens. Or eating the chickens.

If she were a wolf the balls of feathers would seem quite tasty, she suspected.

"Never again." Sansa shuddered as she plopped down next to Daenerys. "When I get home I am taking a bath and never touching a chicken again unless it is on a plate in front of me."

Daenerys giggled, amused in spite of her fatigue. "I'll be sure to put a live chicken on a platter and give it to you."

"Shut up." Truly, the redhead looked the picture of comedy with feathers in her hair and white splotches on her dress. Dany didn't need to ask what those white splotches were. "The nerve." Even now, you look stunning.

But the Princess wouldn't say that out loud. "At least be glad we were able to get out of Lys."

A nod. "Aye, that was a close call, especially with a Rogare trying to capture us." Had they not left that night, certainly they would've been detained. Once in Volantis and out, the Lysene navy wouldn't follow them over this. Probably at least…

She wished not to think about that. They needed to get to Astapor. They had to. Dany frowned sadly in worry just as Sansa took her hand and squeezed it. "What?"

"I'm scared too, Dany. Scared for Missy."

Dany bit her lip. "I was thinking out loud, I see." At Sansa's nod, she sighed. "I don't know why I bonded so close to a Naathi slave girl, but I did."

"Even stranger for me, since Northmen really don't like outsiders - those like my papa and Aunt Lyanna notwithstanding."

"Practically every Stark alive," Dany figured, given Ser Benjen… or Sansa and Robb. "My muna always said I had good instincts. It's why I was able to hatch the dragons while even so young."

"Yeah, wasn't the last time you or Jon terrified me," Sansa snorted.

Daenerys couldn't help a smirk, but it fell. "Something is telling me that Missandei is going to be someone important in the future - that is why I was gonna try and buy her from Lady Caelia, and why I'm going to try and buy her from this Kraznys mo Nakloz in Astapor."

Silent for a bit, Sansa finally nodded. "Aye, I think you're correct about her… all we need to do is make sure Ser Arthur is on board with… something."

"We didn't plan this out very well, did we?" Dany mused. "And don't forget Lady Shienna."

"She didn't ask for this."

"No, she did not."

But it turned out she was much more… accommodating than they expected. "You've gone this far. Driven up a hornet's nest with the most powerful family in Lys, it would be foolish not to actually get something out of it by finding your friend."

As night had fallen, the group of them gathered far from where another member of the crew could hear them. The constant cawing and clucking of the chickens truly did help do that, annoying as it was. Arthur, eying Jon, was being as chivalric as expected. "While I am ensured to go about this, the three of you are not ones that I would risk in this manner." He sighed. "When we touch in Volantis…"

"No! The bad man is in Volantis!" Althor shouted, loudly enough to scare some of the chickens.

"Hush, my son," Shienna whispered. "But he has a point. I will not stay in Volantis more than a few days, so unless…"

"I believe Ser Aron was about to say that we would give you enough coin to sail to King's Landing," Jon stated, to which Dany smiled. They will be safe, and ready to resume our lessons when I return - with Missy. "That is where we're from and we owe it to the last of the fire maeges of old Valyria to save them."

"Dragons in King's Landing," beamed Baelgora, practically squirming with excitement in her seat. "I wanna touch one."

"We're not going to see the dragons up close - that's reserved for the royals," Althor said, disappointment in his tone. "We're practically dirt."

Dany bit her lip, feeling for him when Shienna spoke up. "I believe that now should be when you dispense with your masks, at least with us." The Princess could tell that Sansa and Jon shifted uncomfortably while Arthur straightened up - only Dany knew that Shienna had secretly happened upon the truth. "I want assurances before we sail for King's Landing of all places, since my house has never been to Westeros."

Finally, Arthur sighed. "It is true, we are not as we seem." He drew Dawn, making sure the hilt was seen, as was the rippling blade. "I am Ser Arthur Dayne. Such is the name I was born with."

Shienna seemed to smile, while Althor's jaw dropped. "The… the Sword of the Morning?" It was as if he was in awe. "But you're a Westerosi Kingsguard? That would mean…" When the lad came onto the explanation, Dany saw himself go pale. Learning the truth of those he had befriended. "You're the Prince, aren't you?" He pointed to Jon. "The Dragonwolf."

"Is that what they call me?" Jon chuckled in that same confident manner that made Dany want to thump him - or kiss him. "But yes."

Baelgora seemed to jump for joy. "You're the Dragon Princess!"

"Hush, my daughter." Shienna smiled though. "I am glad that my suspicions were true… and given those wolves are likely direwolves, you are young Sansa Stark." Sansa nodded, to which the noblewoman sighed. Closing her eyes. "Vermithor is kind to me. At our lowest point he sends two hidden Targaryens to save us."

Dany smiled. "Tessarion is our patron, so perhaps they talked it out."

"Perhaps they did." She crossed her arms. "So, I wouldn't think I could just walk up to the Red Keep and ask for entry?"

"Don't worry, my Lady." Dany was insistent. "We'll take care of that… just make sure to get there."

"Your Grace," bowed Ser Aron Santagar, Commander of the Dragonkeepers.

Attendants outside the Dragonpit complex took hold of Moondancer as Rhaegar dismounted, his armor clinking - this was formal, so he best dress as a warrior King even though it was uncomfortable. "How are the dragons?" he asked, glancing back as Ser Barristan dismounted, while beyond the wheelhouse rolled into the courtyard outside the immense bowl.

Ser Aron sighed. "Agitated, certainly. The departure of Prince Baelon and Princess Daenerys have left Valyrax, Syrax, and Saephyra largely sluggish… I worry the former would lash out had the Sunrise Dragon not kept him in line."

Scowling, Rhaegar felt his heart clench. Certainly would be worse had Nymerion been here. It was luck that Tessarion was with Aegon in Dorne. At least she could fly with her rider and be happy. "Any concern with Goldenwing or Stormfyre?"

"None whatsoever."

"Good. The Princesses wish to ride."

"I shall arrange the saddles affixed." Ser Aron bowed again and hurried off.

Rhaegar turned and headed to the wheelhouse. Proud but not arrogant, his fierce daughter Alyssa held the wheelhouse door open. "Easy does it, uncle." Inside, Princess Myrcella led Maester Aemon out gingerly.

"I am not yet dead," he replied, half-amused and half-crotchety. "Give me my sight back and I could fly one of those dragons."

"If only I had your spirit when your age, uncle," laughed Alyssa.

"A blessing and a curse, I'm afraid," the eldest of the Targaryens murmured. "There are regrets I have, but ones I hope in youth you shant suffer from."

Alyssa sighed. "Alright, uncle, alright."

Rhaegar chuckled. "Daughter, sister, allow me to escort your uncle. Go ahead and mount your dragons. The dragonkeepers are getting them ready as we speak." Alyssa simpered in glee, kissing her kepa on the cheek and racing off. Myrcella… more gracefully did the same. "Oh, they're just like their munas."

"Aye, nephew." Aemon accepted Rhaegar's arm around his shoulder. "Alyssa is a fierce Martell with dragon's blood, opposite of your eldest, a fierce dragon of Martell… sociality." Given her uncle Oberyn, perhaps that was a curse rather than a blessing. "Myrcella, I can only hope she achieves what my dear Rhaella did far earlier."

"I shall not let what happened to muna happen to her."

"Good, very good."

They headed towards the Dragonpit, passing under the tunnels that led inward. Unlike the previous iteration, light shone from inside, dome open to the sky and allowing the dragons free reign. Roars echoed, and the wingbeats of what he felt to be Stormfyre blew a gust of air through the tunnel. Rhaegar entered just before Goldenwing did the same, ascending in the same gust of air and cloud of dust. "They needed this, with all that's going on."

"Aye." Aemon snorted. "I'm the only one that thinks Rhaenys will be fine, aren't I?"

"Only natural to be worried." Off in the pit, he saw Aegarax raise his head, yawn, and then amble towards them.

"Aye, but don't let it infect you. A dragon will find a way." Aemon noticed Aegarax, and his lips curled into a beaming smile that lit up his whole face. "This never gets old." Drifting his snout down, Aegarax seemed to grasp the unseeing nature of the Targaryen elder - his frailness as well, nudges and nuzzles ever so gentle for such a massive beast. A gentle snort, showering Aemon with an exhale of hot air. Making Aemon laugh. "Oh, you would've been beloved in Castle Black, sweet one."

'Few would call me a 'sweet one,' uncle,' Aegarax said, voice amused as he continued to nuzzle Aemon.

"Oh, few are dragons, dear one." A gnarled hand reached out and rubbed the scales. "Gods, so warm." His toothless mouth opened in a merry laugh. "Oh, if only you could be here, Egg. Wonderful, simply wonderful."

Rhaegar smiled softly, knowing that his dragon enjoyed this quite a lot. Arms crossed, he watched, allowing the scene to grant him a hard-found serenity… until he almost fell over, pushed by an unstoppable force. Nevertheless flexible for his age, he spun about to find the blue scales of Saephyra close by. "Girl… you have to be more careful."

The dragon cooed - more a growl. Only another dragon could decipher her noise. 'Forgive me, grandfather." Her snout dropped, eyes lidded. 'I miss muna and kepa.'

Sighing, Rhaegar moved to comfort the great beast. "I know. So do I." Stroking the sapphire scales, it was the least he could do for the riderless dragon. "If only you could find a rider, Saephyra."

'I yearn for one, grandfather… and my rider is out there. I know it.'

"I've brought your uncles and aunts to you, have none of them connected?"

'I love them, don't get me wrong… but none felt right. The eggs will bond with them. Mine…' The dragon seemed to trail off. 'It's nothing.'

"What?" He'd heard this in his babes often. The dragon was… worried that he'd think less of her. Much as Aegon and to a lesser extent Jon and Rhae when they were younger, worried that any setback in their training would result in him losing love for them. Since he couldn't pin Saephyra to the ground and tickle her till they were both giggling madly, he could only continue to stroke her scales and attempt to circle her head with his arm. Smaller than Aegarax or Valyrax, it was… just barely possible. "Tell me."

A huff of hot breath left Saephyra's nostrils. 'I… I think I know who my rider is supposed to be, but she's not ready.'

"Come again."

'The… the divine one said I must wait.'

His eyes widened slightly. "Oh." Dragons… they were magic. So much was lost after the Dance, even before when the Doom occurred and House Targaryen slowly drifted away from what they had been and instead as yet another House under the Faith of the Seven but only with dragons. The Wise King and Good Queen, pious and delivering many of their children to the Faith and the Citadel. Young Princess Daella, unwilling to read anything but the Seven-Pointed Star to the point of refusing to marry a wonderful young man in Royce Blackwood because he was of the Old Gods.

Since Rhaegar had married one of the Old Gods… it wasn't a bad thing at all. Oh, certainly not.

'Do you think me a fool, grandfather?'

Taken from his thoughts, Rhaegar rested a cheek against his… scaly grandchild. "Stranger things have happened, girl. I no longer am surprised by anything."

A snort from Aegarax drew Rhaegar's attention back. 'You'll be quite tested in that sentiment, I'm sure of it.'

"Quite amusing, boy. Quite amusing." At least Rhaegar hoped it was a jape - and not an omen of what was to come.

"Get up!"

"Unnnnhhhh." Rhaenys felt someone's foot lightly kick her side, jostling her awake - but she wouldn't budge or open her eyes. "Unnnnhhhh…"

From the groan, it was clear that Ygritte was annoyed and it made Rhae struggle not to grin in her attempt to remain asleep. "Blizzard's gone. We need to get a head start over Val's thugs."

"I don't wanna get up, muna…" She structured her tone as if she were talking in her sleep. Readying for when Ygritte kicked her again.

But the wildling surprised her. "For fuck's sake." Light steps circled Rhae… and then suddenly a warm pair of lips pressed against hers. Ones so soft and lovely that she couldn't resist opening her mouth and lashing her tongue out to tangle with Ygritte's. Going all in by grabbing the wildling girl's waist and dragging her on top of her. Their locked lips muffling her yelp.

Arms wrapped around her back, when she broke off the kiss Rhaenys grinned at the half-cross, half-breathless Ygritte. Their eyes locking. "Well, that's the proper way to wake a woman."

"I'll be sure to tell the damn knights of the south how to wake the Princess they'll wish to woo."

A snort. "Truly?"

Ygritte scowled. "Fuck no. I rather like you for myself." They kissed again, treated to Ygritte's moan when Rhae sucked on her tongue.

This was nice. It was all nice, the happiest Rhae had been since leaving Winterfell. Quite ironic since they were in a cave with nought but a few packs of gear, their weapons, and Nysar, but turned out the simplest pleasures were clearly the best. Another irony, she had found the solace in the lovely body of a wildling girl. Imagine the scandal. Especially when it became clear that Ygritte both not one to be trifled with and one that had been very reciprocated in her desire for the Targaryen Princess.

Sparing a moment of the morning in a kissing session, hands roaming over each other's furs and skins, Rhaenys finally was able to admire the girl in all her glory. A non-traditional beauty for sure, but deliciously slender. Tits and arse small, but Rhaenys rather liked that - an athletic body, able to fight and scrounge for survival.

Not to mention red of hair and blue of eye. Rhaenys found both truly made her wet.

But as they kissed, a thought came to mind. A wildling… hated in the Realm. Whatever the initial purpose of the Night's Watch, now it was seen as either a penal colony or a line of defense against wildlings. Savages, brutal savages. The huntress sought to gain freedom away from Val by coming with her, but would she find freedom in King's Landing? It… made Rhae hesitate.

Which Ygritte seemed to notice as she pulled back. "I know, I know… now it's yer' turn to get us movin'. I'm goin' then." Rhaenys instantly missed their closeness, but as the heavy breathing of a returning Nysar brought her attention back to the here and now, she sighed and rose. Feeling her joints creak from sleep.

Grabbing their meager gear didn't take too long, and the bloody maw of Nysar greeted Rhaenys as she hiked to the entrance to the cave. Certainly took advantage of the break in the weather, didn't you, girl? The direwolf's tongue lolled out of her maw as Rhaenys ruffled her fur. But the sight of the glowing yellow orb in the sky truly brightened her mood. "Ah, the sun." Rhaenys extended her arms, sighing as she basked in the warmth. "I may still be freezing my arse off, but it's still lovely."

Ygritte rolled her eyes. "Mance used to say some story about how you dragons are mad as fuck. I used to think it stupid, but mayhaps he's right."

Rhaenys frowned and punched her on the shoulder - knowing her newfound lover could take it. "You'll feel just as out of place in the heat of King's Landing."

"Never knew heat outside of a fire, or a hot springs." She scrunched her nose. "Eh, should be an experience, I'll give you that."

"You'll like King's Landing… but don't think you'll need to go the same place I do." Rhae bit her lip, again thinking she presumed too much. "Wouldn't want to deprive you of your freedom."

A shrug. "No, safest place for me is with you, considerin' what my kind are thought of by the southerners." A smirk. "Besides, I like being with you."

"You do?" She smirked back. "Interesting…"

"I'll kill you if you repeat I said that to anyone."

"I believe you." Ygritte shook her head as she sat, stabbing her spear into the snow and stretching her legs ahead of the long trek. Good idea. She did it too… and before long her upright stretches had elicited a… puriant stare from Ygritte. Like a fox eying a squirrel. "My eyes are up here."

A smirk. "Just enjoyin' the view."

Rhaenys snorted. "So, I presume the approach to Castle Black is guarded by Val's scouts." They'd long since written off Mance the Impotent. If he hadn't been killed in a palace coup, he would be soon. When Ygritte nodded, she continued. "How else do the Free Folk get to the south?"

It felt strange to refer to her muna's ancestral home as the 'south.'

"I don't feel I should tell you… seems like treason, betraying our secrets."

"For fuck's sake, Ygritte…" She'd clearly give Asha a run for her coin.

"Aight, aight, just twisting your tits - which I also like to do." She chuckled before growing serious again. "There are tunnels cut through the wall at some of the abandoned Crow castles. The Crows think we don't know about them but they're wrong." Giggling, she grabbed her spear out of the snow. "But Val will be watching those too, so I wouldn't chance it." A sigh. "No, we're gonna have to climb it."

Rhaenys' eyes widened. "Climb the Wall?"

A roll of the eyes. "You fly fucking dragons and you're scared of that?"

"At least my dragon is large and I can fit snugly on her back. You're talking of climbing that monstrosity with what? A pick axe and some rope?"

"Rope won't help except as a lifeline," Ygritte chuckled.

"And you've done this?" Rhaenys was still skeptical.

"If I had, would I be here? I'd be enjoying that southern sun, which I hope yet to do with you." That lessened Rhaenys' tension. It was still there, as was her fear, but lessened. "I'd seen men do it."

"And did they live?"

Ygritte shrugged. "Most made it I think."

That did not make it better.

"So she's trapped north of the Wall?"

Ser Jonothor Darry nodded. "Aye, your Grace. The information is solid, and confirmed by the fact that both the dragons of Princess Rhaenys and Dowager Queen Rhaella are at Castle Black."

Sarra Blackfyre pursed her lips, pensive as she traced the implications of this. If they could be used as a weakness to hammer the red dragons into submission - or at least weaken them. Weaken them it obviously would, but mayhaps… "The information is welcome, but I see no path for us to use it except simply wait."

"Lord Connington thinks he can find a way to make contact with the wildlings and purchase her. That they'd take a low price."

Snorting, Sarra tried not to laugh in Ser Jonothor's face. "Please bear in mind, Ser, that Connington might be a good tactician but his strategy is foolish. How in the name of the gods would we even make contact with the wildlings?" She shook her head. "Whatever happens, the Targaryens will come out either no better than when they started, or significantly worse with the loss of Rhaenys and possibly Rhaella - it all requires us to do nothing, and nothing is what we shall do."

He bowed. "At your command, your Grace."

"Good, begone."

Sighing, the matriarch of the black dragons wondered if she'd ever meet a man that wasn't a fool. Even a lowborn one, there had to be one that was her equal or close to it? Mayhaps she should give up hope? Shaking her head, she proceeded towards her daughter's chambers. Keen on her sweet, powerful Daella calming her from the annoyance of her subordinate's stupidity.

But when entering her chamber… "Daella, my sweet?" The slight, fair figure of her favorite child was curled up on the bed, head buried in the pillows. Her body was wracked with sobs. "What's wrong?"

Daella looked up, sucking in a breath to compose herself. The sobs stopped, but her face was streaked with tears and eyes red. "He… he left, muna."

"Who left?" I think I have an idea.

"Eddard… Eddard Snow…"

Sitting next to her, Sarra wrapped her up in her arms. "Daughter, have you found a lover?" Biting her lip, Daella nodded. Ah, Daella, you're just like me. Took what she wanted - Sarra felt pride swell inside of her. "And this lover of yours left you?"

"It's not like that," she hurried to his defense. "It's not like he wanted to leave me, but he had to." That made Daella sigh. "I can't do anything. Losing him has left me unable to rise out of bed… unless it's to void my stomach."

Brow raised, Sarra looked over her daughter. Seeing the poor dear… aye, her breasts seemed swollen. And the man that she claims to love was a 'northern bastard.' Sarra was very skeptical, and her past visions gave a hint as to who this man really was that defiled her daughter. No, not defiled… gave us the perfect opportunity. "Come with me," Sarra insisted, dragging her daughter out of her bed. "If what you are saying to me is true, then I must make a confirmation."

"Muna… please don't tell anyone."

"I won't, not until the right time." Not even my other children would understand, let alone the pusillanimous, narrowly ambitious fools that run our armies. None were witness to true greatness of the Valyrians.

Only her, and soon so would Daella. The pathetic romantic infatuation had inexplicably led to something truly beneficial. Now, Sarra would make sure such feelings were properly channeled into a new Daella. A strong Daella. Visenya in the flesh.

Fire and ash, hot enough to vaporize blood.

Thankfully none of her other children, or especially those such as Connington, Jonothor Darry, or Harry Strickland weren't present. Some servants scurried about, but they gave Sarra a wide berth. Intimidated by her. Good, she wanted that. Reveled in it. Her mentor had, in age, changed from the vain woman she was in her youth. Regretting her choices, wishing for the love she had squandered long before.

Weakling. Sarra smirked at the memory of when she killed her. The student becoming the master… or mistress rather.

Silently they entered Sarra's personal domain, immediately greeted by the pungent scent of herbs and smoke. Daella's nose wrinkled as it always did, but her neck and cheeks went green with nausea. "Muna, can we go somewhere else…?"

"Hush, child. We must seek the truth of the gods. You must see the truth of the man you fucked, that you loved."

Her brows furrowed. "He was the half-Lysene son of a hedge knight… wasn't he?"

She chuckled. "Oh, daughter. So naive." Sarra leaned down to kiss Daella's forehead. "The man you gave your maidenhead to is no ordinary man. No, this was preordained, the combination of the might of Valyria into a dynasty that will rule from the Sunset Sea to Asshai." Before Daella could ask anything else, Sarra grabbed her wrist and produced the dragonbone knife. Quickly slicing a tiny cut along one of her daughter's fingers. The girl winced, but the blood dripped into a bowl below. It was empty, but soon there was a puddle of crimson liquid.

"What are you doing, muna…?"

"Shhhh." Daella grabbed her flint and made a spark, chanting all the while. The flame set alight the blood, burning hot. An acrid smoke ascended from the fire… which changed into a black color, then a red… then over again. "Just as I thought. You're with child, daughter."

Daella stared at her stunned. "But… with child…?"

"Kessa, Daella. You're having a child with Crown Prince Baelon Targaryen."