Nothing Burns Like The Cold (Game of Thrones fanfiction)

Daenerys I

Chapter Two - Daenerys I

Tyrion had received a raven from The King in the North, a response to her invitation to come to Dragonstone.

He's on his way, Daenerys contemplated. An unrequited anticipation clung deep inside her, waking her early with the hope of a ship on dawn's horizon. Nothing yet. The castle stones cold under her bare feet, she wrapped the lion skin of the Hrakkar tightly around her shoulders. A remnant from a former life, she reflected sadly. Sleep did not come easily since her arrival and only proved more restless with word of Jon Snow's timely visit. Although she already received guests at Dragonstone, this one, well, this one was no ally or priestess. He commanded the North and the Vale, his kingdom the largest in Westeros. He was formidable, respected by many. Even Tyrion liked and trusted him, a rare enough assessment from the most skeptical man she knows. Dany tried to imagine this man in the flesh, her mind wandering into that welcomed distraction while the incessant talk of war occupied her waking life.

The moment she dreamed of since she was a child, the return to her ancestral stronghold, felt like a empty victory. Dragonstone was in a sordid disarray and in desperate need of repairs. Parts of the castle had returned to the elements; from a wall collapse on the west battlements to a large rat infestation in the kitchens, the castle felt hollow and she quietly longed for the comforts of the Great Pyramid. Her Dothraki blood riders scoured the island on the first day and discovered that, save 2 old castellans and their daughter, the entirety of Dragonstone was deserted. The small villages below Dragonmont were abandoned for some time. Varys concluded that when Stannis Baratheon was killed on his northern expedition, the inhabitants of Dragonstone fled in fear of Queen Cersei's wrath. She set the builders and masons to rebuild the villages and docks. Restoring a sense of normalcy was paramount to her on Dragonstone - She meant to give her people a true home and keep her promise of a better life for them all.

Now, the highlands and cliff mesas were filled with animal skin tents as far as the eye could see, campfires dotting the landscape day and night. The island may be volcanic, but the grassy plateaus and rich soil fed the horses and people alike. It may not be much, but it was enough to keep the people of the Great Grass Sea sated for now. They were even getting good at fishing, paddling out to the shallow waters with nets, catching enough fish and crab to fed everyone. They've lost their fear of the sea, she smiled. The Dothraki will make excellent Westerosi after all.

Good Omens, Dany thought. And the King in the North is on his way to bend the knee. She pulled the white lion skin closer, shivering with cold or excitement, she couldn't tell. The cool air whipped around her, tossing her loose hair into a blinding cloud of silver strands. She fought her way out of it, smoothing the strays away from her face. Every morning she came out here, her small stone balcony set high in the tower wall. It was her hideaway, a respite from the world. She kept company with the intricately carved stone dragons that surrounded her, built before the Doom of Valyria. Those eyes were watching her, she knew. Let them watch. I am the Last Targaryen. My ancestors should be proud that I have survived long enough to return Dragonstone to the Dragons.

With a large gust of bitingly, cold wind, Dany scanned the horizon one last time before heading back into her chambers, closing the heavy wood doors behind her. Admittedly, she did not feel at home in this strange, damp castle. Missandei sensed her queen's discomfort and took it upon herself to re-dress the queen's chambers with as many comforts as they could gather; ornate candle holders, soft, warm rugs and blankets, chairs with pillows, and a fire that burned in the hearth day and night. Dany was so touched, she reciprocated the gesture for Missandei's chamber. Small pleasures made the dreariness of the island bearable. This strange, unwelcoming land was her home, her birthplace. She will make amends and learn to love Dragonstone or die trying.