Hollow Crown ↬ Daenerys Targaryen

26

The echo of Daenerys' feet bounces off the walls of the castle as she makes her way through the winding corridors of Winterfell. Dothraki guards are hot on her heels, having been the ones to inform her of the happenings outside the gates.

The dragons returned.

All of them.

Percy.

She had been worried sick to her stomach those few weeks. More so in the last two days, since Drogon and Rhaegal left in a hurry, sensing their brother's danger. It's clear that the absence of her children and Percy has taken it's toll on her; her cheeks hollow from not eating, dark bags under her eyes from a lack of rest, and movements sluggish due to stress.

Daenerys knows the others have noticed. Jon and Sansa had been less adamant about battle plans - not that anybody had been slacking on preparations - the Dothraki had become more firm and cold, and even Jorah kept his distance. Perhaps it's because they think she needs space, or because she may be extra volatile, but she hates it nevertheless.

Not because she doesn't appreciate them, but she knows they can see her weakness. Her guards, her subjects, her allies - they'll start to think that she relies on the companionship of others, that she can't function on her own. And that's not something she wants people to think of her, especially the people closest to her.

So, she doesn't race to the gates as her mind screams her to do, choosing a formal pace to walk with. She doesn't allow the anticipation, worry and relief to show on her face or in her eyes, expression neutral and just as commanding of attention as usual - as if nothing's amiss. She's a Queen - the Queen - and she won't have anyone assuming any less of her than that.

It's those thoughts which give her the confidence she's lacked recently, head held high as she approaches the gates to the castle. Jon is already there, hand clutching the hilt of his sword anxiously, wanting but not daring to leave without waiting for her. He knows how important they are to her, all of them, no matter how hard she tries to mask her feelings. She should be the first to see him, not Jon or anybody else, but her.

Just as they reach the gate, a loud screech is heard from above, her head snapping to the sky in a blink. Daenerys watches with shining eyes as her dragons fly over the castle, something that could only be described as unconditional love in her stare. Three synchronized screeches reach their ears at once, piercing to some and music to others.

Drogon leads his brothers lower, with Viserion at his tail and Rhaegal not far behind. Their movements are natural, the three of them taking their usual formation like nothing was ever out of line. It's breathtaking to see creatures of such danger move with such intelligence, and it becomes easy for many to understand why Daenerys treats them with as much importance as a person.

One by one the dragons land, the area clearing of people who don't wish to be crushed, and their large bodies shake the ground as they touch down. Another screech from them all, wings clashing together as they greet their mother excitedly, reunited for the last time.

Drogon is the first to gain her attention, growling impatiently for her to move. Laughing, she raises a hand to his head, stroking the side of his large nose as he purrs in content, her other hand reaching to rest on Rhaegal's snout. For the briefest of moments, she forgets everything else around her, focusing only on the relief that overcomes her entire being.

Then, almost like she's been slapped in the face, Daenerys' eyes widen as she lurches back. Turning quickly, she lays her sights on the last of her children, his goldish skin shining in the passing rays of sunlight that peak from behind the clouds.

Viserion gazes at his mother lovingly, his mind and emotions his own as he bows his head for her. She looks at him confusedly, though a smile still plants itself across her face while she greets him too. Laughing as Drogon huffs jealously behind her, she stares into his large eyes and knows immediately that she's looking into Viserion's, not ones tainted with magic.