The Fallen Queen - A Game of Thrones Fanfic

Chapter 3 - Promises

The change in the atmosphere was almost null; the smoke and clouds were constant, and the yellow and orange were always there. The mountains were boiling, although never erupting, anyone could feel the threat as if they were about to in any second.

She still preferred her surroundings. In this lost world, she felt safe. She couldn't nor wanted to go further, at least not without Drogon, and even with him, she only wandered around the main towers and grass fields. Every two or three days, he would fly for some time and then come back with food for her. She didn't need to go further.

-*-

"Please, my king, reconsider... we are not sure of this, we can't..." The priestess begged him.

"While I am gone, my people will lead for me," Daario finally declared, leaving no more room to question his decision.

Guttan, his second in command though seemed unsettled. "My king, we want to follow you. Please at least, consider taking some of us."

He pondered about it, while he was grabbing some things and moving around his room. They followed him there, after he gave the orders of who would be in charge while he left. No one was happy.

Guttan was appointed regent while he left. His people and everyone else was shocked to hear this; he had never left Meereen after he became the king, and he seemed to never want to. He accepted his new position quietly in front of everyone, but now in the room, he was speaking his mind. "Most will remain here, as you commanded, but some can go with you to help you."

Daario looked at him with a smirk. "I can take care of myself, Guttan."

His second nodded. "Of course, you can my king. But we could help you there, and find her faster."

To everyone, he was going after the search for a new weapon and more soldiers. He announced there was a wild tribe interested in joining them, but he had to go see himself first if those people would adapt and fit the life of Meereen because he did not want to disrupt the order he fought hard to establish and keep. But his core circle knew well where he was going, and who he was searching for.

One of the witches knocked on the door and the priestess rushed to open it. She walked in quickly and another soldier followed her. Daario stopped and watched them expectantly.

"Speak," He ordered.

The witch nodded, fearfully she started talking. "The Unsullied have arrived at the shores of Naath, so they are closer than you, my King."

He smirked. "I want a message to be delivered."

The second soldier nodded and gave a step forward. "To whom, my King?"

He turned around and took his sword, unique and special in all its value, then he delivered it to him. "When you reach the land, they will stop you. Do not show signs of fear, nor anger. Ask for their leader, Grey Worm. When you speak to him, and only to him, tell him I will meet him in Old Valyria."

-*-

The night was peaceful, as every other night had been since she was brought back to life. The murmurs of the Fourteen were constant, but she had grown accustomed to them. Another night coming to an end, and another tear left her eyes. She rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath, resting on the pile of fur again, and closing her eyes.

Her dreams were confusing, she felt eyes watching her in the darkness, but she wasn't afraid. Always, those eyes seemed more afraid of her.

It was Drogon who woke her up, he seemed to be ready to attack something, and her eyes blinked several times trying to find whatever was threatening her and him. She stood up quickly and laid her back to his chest. She lifted her head to see where he was looking, and it didn't make itself wait. A black shadow flew above her, and it was huge.

"A dragon?" She voiced her doubt.

Drogon was tense and alert, he was not happy. If it really was another dragon, did he had to fight to him? Was he able to fight another one of his kind? He had no problem fighting other creatures, but he never had to face another dragon. His brothers were never a match, and they always fought at his side.

A noise was heard from the foot of the tower they were on, both of them on guard as their attention was divided. "Who is there?" she asked, and then repeated it in other languages as well.

"I believe you should add a new name to your list of many names..." the voice of an old woman was heard.

Whoever it was, no matter how old she sounded, Daenerys could not lower her guard. She gave a step forward, towards the broken steps and where the voice was heard. She stared into the darkness coming from bellow before she could see the hooded head slowly moving upwards. She didn't move, she had seen already many forms of deceptiveness and she wasn't going to let the voice of a woman lower her guard. But she remained there, in her place, without moving. She stood tall and proud; if they found her, and sent an army to kill her, she was going to die standing and fighting. She took a strong hold of her long branch used as a cane, and she was ready.

Yet the seconds went by, and the woman proved to be slow and calm. She did not say another word until her last foot was at the top of the tower. There, she took some deep breathes and looked around, not even staring so much at Daenerys. "No matter how high you fly, this view is both humbling and saddening..."

She nodded, it was true. One of her first thoughts when she realized where Drogon had brought her, was that the place felt like it was condemned.

Finally, the old woman laid eyes on her, and she saw a smirk on her old features. "Queen of the Dragons, isn't it? Or the Dragon Queen... I don't recall the order..."

Daenerys didn't respond right away, she took her time to keep observing the woman, and the woman sighed. She was about to say something else when her voice interrupted it. "I am Daenerys Targaryen..." She said, pausing for a few seconds. It was her first name, the only one she cared to claim as her own anymore. All the others were names that had lost power and strength after they killed her. "...and who are you?"

The woman nodded, taking a look at Drogon, who was with his head high, alert. "I am just an old woman, who has seen too much, and hidden too long... I have been cold many names... the oldest one of them was Nettles, but no one remembers that name..."

She pondered, her name sounded familiar to old stories, but even though she heard those old stories, she knew she didn't know who that person claimed to be. "What are you doing here, Nettles?"

The old woman smiled, her wrinkled skin was tanned. "We are home..."

Was the woman crazy? She knew she had no sisters, and the woman in front of her seemed out of place. She didn't belong there. This was her home away from home.

"I think you better leave, old woman... I will rather be alone with myself and my child..." She said stepping back again to join Drogon.

"Your child... interesting name... well, Dragon Queen. I am here to stay, until the end of my days... which I hope will come soon, but not sooner than my teachings reach you," The old woman said with a grin.

Whoever that woman was, it seemed clear she was not going to leave, and whatever she brought with her, seemed enough of a threat to make Drogon alert and tense. It was up to her now to make a move.