The King of Winters

Chapter - 138

Dany

On the last night before her wedding, Dany could not sleep. Each time she closed her eyes, her head filled with forebodings and fantasies of the morrow. I will kill him, she told herself. No one will be allowed to touch me. She had promised herself that much. And if it proved too much of a work then she would kill herself. She would throw herself into the sea before she would allow this to happen.

However her strength only lasted for an hour at most. After that, she was afraid. She was afraid what he would do to her if he failed. She was afraid what was to be done to her even if she succeeded. She was more afraid than she had been on the day her whole world had burned in front of her, the day she had lost her dragon in Oldtown.

Dany paced her cell, restless and shivering in fear and cold. She should be eager with anticipation for her wedding and the night that would follow, she knew. She tried to remember the face of her betrothed, but all she could see was a stranger with blue lips and a cruel blue eye. She remembered how excited she had been when she had been promised to the Tyrell heir. Highgarden was beautiful and Willas courteous. She was only frightened now, and not excited. There was nothing to be excited about anyway. Dany tried telling herself that it was a marriage either way. It would be the same with Greyjoy, as it would have been with Willas Tyrell. But deep down she knew that she was not dealing with a soft spoken man who loved to spend his time tending to the animals he raised.

Barefoot and shivering she paced, a thin blanket draped about her shoulders. She was anxious for the day to come. By evening it would all be done. The Greyjoy said it was the only way to save herself. Was it, though? She could not trust this mad pirate, no more than she could trust his tales. I could still refuse. But she dared not. Dany had no friends amongst the band of ironborn around this isles. And if his tales were supposed to be true, then she has even less friends in the mainland as well. Her only hope was was this, and for that she must stay strong.

And if I could find Drogon again just like he said that we might...

That road would lead nowhere, Dany thought. Drogon was gone, and so was he her family. He had vanished under the sea somewhere around the Oldtown harbour. Dany has tried to find him but to no avail. Not for the lack of trying as well. She had tried even though she didn't know how, because she knew she couldn't anger her captor. She knew how he could be when his anger was roused. Euron Greyjoy was crazed and unpredictable. She remembered his own brother in the cells of his ship, and he forced her to drink the vile blue liquid. She will do as she is told. If he could do that to his own brother he would definitely do worse to her. She was doomed by staying here, and she was doomed otherwise, and the only way she could return was by Drogon.

“No harm will come to me today,” Dany told herself when the day's first light brushed her window. “He needs me.” The words rang hollow in her ears. She may yet find Drogon. She pictured him descending down from above through the morning mists, black as shadow and dark leathery wings beating back the fogs...

Then came a soft knock on her door. There were her captors but she was ready for them. Two servants entered, bowed, and set about their business. The old woman, was small and grey as a mouse, but the girl was young and pretty. Neither said a word. They took her to another chamber where a bath of hot water was waiting for her. The girl and the old woman pulled the rough cotton tunic over Dany's head and helped her into the tub. The water was scalding hot, but Daenerys felt it soothing. She has always liked the heat and it had been a while since she had a bath. It made her feel clean.

When she was clean, the women helped her from the water and toweled her dry. They dressed her in the gown that Euron had sent up, a deep plum silk to bring out the violet in her eyes. There were other gifts as well. The girl slid the gilded sandals onto her feet, while the old woman fixed the tiara in her hair, and slid golden bracelets crusted with amethysts around her wrists. Last of all came the collar, a heavy golden tore emblazoned with ancient Valyrian glyphs.