Nothing Burns Like The Cold (Game of Thrones fanfiction)

Daenerys II

Chapter Four - Daenerys II

It had been over a week since they met on the path at sunset.

Now, she stood on that exact spot, looking out over the rough tidal pools, waters churning, crashing on the rocks below. The hazy sun sat deep in thin gray clouds, darker ones snaking fast across the horizon. A storm's coming, she knew. The castle had been eerily quiet today, everyone waiting for word of the Unsullied attack on Casterly Rock. Their faces heavy with hope and worry, Missandei's most of all.

She wanted nothing more than to fly to the Red Keep and end this game, but the whole of her counselors implored her to stay on Dragonstone and let everything unfold as planned. She couldn't stand the wait, so she spent her days on Drogon's back, circling the island and surrounding sea, away from the criticisms and supposed sound advice. It was easier than dealing with the world right now.

Losing two allies was an unplanned catastrophe, no one knew of Euron's Iron Fleet, or The Red Eyed fleet, as it was now called due to the crimson eyed Kraken sails he flew. After their defeat, it was said that the Greyjoy uncle was hunting the seas for more of her troops to slaughter, all while Grey Worm and the Unsullied sailed those same waters, heading for battle at Casterly Rock. If she was allowed to fly free, she would incinerate The Red Eyed Fleet with the firepower of all three dragons, satisfied to watch Euron Greyjoy burn all the way to ash. But every time she spoke of this, Tyrion would frown and panic and begin the never-ending speech of not burning the Seven Kingdoms to the ground.

Sure it wasn't ideal, but wasn't Yara Greyjoy's council to hit King's Landing hard better advice than what lead to this horrific outcome? And now, Lady Greyjoy is captured or dead. Theon, Ellaria, and all the rest, their fates unknown. Thank the Gods Olenna took a merchant ship home in disguise, hopefully, she was safe and sound in Highgarden. Dany had failed to protect her allies, a monumental shortsighted failure, and now they're all but gone.

And with this Greyjoy/Dorne disaster fresh in her mind, recent history was set to repeat itself. By not assisting the Unsullied at Casterly Rock, she was putting the lives of her men in danger, knowing she that could protect them and end the battle even before it begins. How could she reason with sitting here and doing nothing? I can't, she knew. The worry crept up in her throat, fear that failure at the Rock would cost the life of Grey Worm, of all her Unsullied who've been with her almost since the beginning. Dany closed her eyes and exhaled, sending whispered prayers of good fortune on the wind. Her thoughts returned to the moment at hand, taking in a deep breath of sea air, Dany sought out happier musings: Jon Snow.

He had come to her on the path that evening. She heard the footsteps approaching, Missandei she figured, only to be caught off guard by the sound of Jon's voice. Dany had known why he sought her out, Tyrion had spoken to her earlier that day of Dragonglass and White Walkers. Nonsense, It has to be! She decided she was going to make him ask for her help; to say the words to her. She held steady and turned to face him. He was alone, a warrior rebel king in the North, she thought. His dark gaze, already weary and defensive, met hers. He wore a thick wolf pelt around his shoulders over a long, heavy winter cloak; it felt like armor between them.

He stepped closer to her and closer still until he was within her reach. He smelled of soap and fur, his hair pulled back from his furrowed brow, still wet from a bath. His northern accent was a thick growl on his tongue. His voice low and measured, lulling her deeper with each word spoken. Dany stole glances at this proud, brooding, exceedingly handsome man next to her. He had refused to give in again, defiantly holding her gaze, testing her, daring her to look away with the pull of his dark, unflinching stare. She felt the heat rise from her chest, threatening to flush her cheeks in admission. This insolent, stubborn gorgeous man, my gods! She was the first to look away, gaining her composure, her heart beating loudly in her ears. She exhaled in frustration, trying to make sense of this man who defied her at every word and opportunity.