"I don't know where I am I don't know this place Don't recognize anybody Just the same old empty face See these people they lie And I don't know who to believe anymore."
Just a Game by Birdy.
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Daenerys awoke from her slumber in her chambers, an array of silks and satins scattered around leading out to her balcony. She moved from her bed, and let his fingers trace the ledge of the balcony, looking out to Valyria.
Valyria was beautiful and mystical within its own right, and had many elements to it that Daenerys loved; it had the gorgeous harbour filled with ships she once would take into battle all those thousands of years ago left untouched; beautiful fields enriched with the finest grains the world of Westeros had to offer; mountains that once held dragons that would lead the Targaryen's into battle.
It was mesmeric - and it was her home.
It reminded her of her brothers, her family, her dynasty. All of it together reminded her of all the people she'd lost over the years; Rhaegar, Viserys, Drogo, Barristan, Jorah and Jon. All the men in her life were gone except for Darrio, who she knew had despised her since her first voyage to Westeros.
It was all gone, all of it.
She moved from the balcony and was dressed as usual by Missandei in a blue gown detailed with intricate silver beading and her hair braided like a crown across her head as the rest of her silver tresses flooded down her back.
"I'm sorry for my harsh wording last evening," Daenerys spoke into the piercing silence to Missandei who was daintily applying a pale pink paint to her lips, "it was unjust, and once I become unjust I lose myself and all I stand for,"
Missandei smiled at her Queen, "your grace, your words were your own," she spoke thoughtfully, "for me and Darrio cannot force you to the modern lands,"
Daenerys smiled slightly this time, and stood once she was ready and began to descend to the throne room where she instantly spotted Darrio laid helplessly in a pool of his own crimson blood, an arrow through his shoulder and waist.
She hurried over to him, falling to her knees at his side and ripping apart her dress, applying the material over the wounds with pressure. As she removed the arrows, she noticed some writing she didn't recognise.
S.H.I.E.L.D
She didn't recognise those letters, and continued to tend to a cringing Darrio who began to loose blood too fast for her liking. She was a Queen, not a nurse. She was never equipped to deal with anything like this.
She tried desperately to heal him, but remembered tearfully that her powers didn't work on other immortals, and that there was no chance in saving the man who had been her champion in more battles than she could count on one hand.