All of Pieces

Chapter - 1

The sky was becoming increasingly bleak, wisps of thin clouds weaving in between gradient shades of gray. Stray lightning flickered in the distance, followed by the soft rumblings of thunder not so far away. The waves were beginning to get angry, crashing into the rocks along the shore and spewing forth over the sharp surfaces. The weather seemed to resemble the turmoil swirling in Daenerys mind. She stared out ahead at the horizon to the empty sky, silently wishing that this all had been a bad dream. That at any moment, Rhaegal and Viserion would swoop out of the sky to join their brother Drogon to catch fish from the ocean. That Jorah would walk through the door to the painted chamber, ready to give her his shoulder to lean on and advice for the days ahead. That Missandei would ever so politely, but sternly, let her know that her current appearance was not one befitting a Queen.

But that will never happen again, she thought bitterly. Her silver hair cascaded free down her back, tangled and wild despite a few stubborn braids that remained. Violet eyes that were usually so bright were tinted dark with sorrow. The circles under her eyes different shades of purple and red, betraying the flood of tears that had been shed and the sleep that eluded her. Her dressing robe was not tied, catching in the growing wind as if it were a cape. The sleeping gown she wore underneath was made of the finest silk but hung limply around her body. The temperature had dropped considerably as the storm crept closer to Dragonstone, creating tiny goose bumps along her skin, but she seemed to not feel it.
Daenerys broke the concentration on the horizon by slowly looking down beneath her. The Chamber of the Painted Table was one of the highest points of the keep, strategically open to the elements. There was nothing but sharp and jagged rocks as far as she could see until they finally ended in the black ocean below. Closing her eyes, she took a slow but deep breath. She should have felt at home here, in the ancestral home of her family and in the country she planned to rule. The feeling she so desperately craved eluded her here, as it had in every part of Westeros she had seen so far. The only time I felt at peace in this peculiar land was on that boat with him. She closed her eyes tighter to try and push the thought of Jon from her mind. Thinking of him only brought her back to the overwhelming feeling of sadness, and of loss. She had lost everything in this country. Two of her sons, half of her army, Ser Jorah, Missandei, her claim to the throne, and him. She always had prided herself on being strong, and had known much loss and trauma in her short years, but this all had broken her. And now ever her advisors thought her mad.

I should just let myself drift downwards, she opened her eyes as she moved closer to the edge of the alcove. Part of her wondered if she did, if she should fly as her sons did. Maybe she would be transformed into a dragon herself and could join Drogon in the sky, burning her enemies and those who had taken so much from her to ash alongside the only thing she had left in this entire world. Daenerys tried to reason with herself, knowing that such a thing was not possible. Maybe the hunger was finally eating away at her mind instead of her stomach. It had been close to four days now without sustenance. She knew Varys was poisoning her food, the little serving girl was all too nervous delivering her trays and not as inconspicuous as the Spider thought. She had been chased her whole life by assassins and poisoners, and had sadly learned to be wary of everyone, especially now. She heard the door to the chamber creak open and close, soft booted footsteps following ever so slowly.

Jon had made it halfway over to her when he stopped dead in his tracks. He had never seen Daenerys like this. He had seen her through so many sorrows in their short time together, but had always seen her remain some form of composure. All of that was gone now. In the oversized robe, she seemed a much smaller figure to him than she ever had before. She seemed almost a child, playing dress up in someone else's clothes. His heart grew heavy in his chest, not knowing what to do or where he should proceed from here. While he was good at sword fighting, killing, and leading men into battle - what to do when a woman was concerned was always something he never could understand.