i never thought the world would turn to stone
Daenerys Targaryen is reborn in Volantis, and the Lord of Light has a plan for her still. post-s8 fix-it drabble.
She awoke with the taste of blood and ash in her mouth, and the words death had stolen from her:
They stuck in her throat, and for one terrible moment, she thought she might choke on them. Pain burned in her breast, and she finally gasped aloud, gagging on the words.
As if surfacing from a terrible dream, Dany lurched upward. Her vision was dim, faint at the edges. Disoriented, she cried out again, an animal, guttural shriek born of anguish and fear. But steady hands found her, bracing her shoulders.
The melodic words were spoken in High Valyrian. A kind, feminine voice. Missandei, she thought, briefly, foolishly, before she remembered. She remembered now, all of it, every last terrible moment, every crime done by their hands, and her own.
But maybe that had been the dream. Maybe everything that had followed had only been a dream, and now she was awaking from that endless nightmare—
“It’s a shock, at first. I know,” the voice assured her. “But soon you will be as you were, my queen.”
My queen. Bewildered, Dany followed the voice, looking to the woman at her side who still cradled Dany as if she were a mere babe. The mysterious woman had piercing green eyes and wore flowing robes of red. She smelled of oils and incense. She smelled of Essos.
“What…” What happened? But Dany already knew. The cut of Jon’s dagger still stung, and the blood was thick in her throat. Wild-eyed, Dany lowered her gaze. She was naked, her blue veins stark against her milky-pale skin, except for the bright red gash at her left breast.
The mark of his betrayal.
The tang of blood sharpened on her tongue, sick inching up her throat. Dany began to tremble all over, involuntary convulsions of her body until her teeth chattered loudly. “C-cold,” she whispered, growing lightheaded.
The woman moved from her side only to return with a blanket, cocooning Dany in the thick material. Still, Dany shook, the shock coursing through her veins as it sank in.
Jon had killed her. He’d called her his queen, he’d kissed her, and then he’d sunk his blade into her heart.
He’d cried as he’d held her. As if she’d been the one to betray him. As if it had been her hand, her blade, his heart.
There had been nothing after that. Nothing—and the clanging echo of his betrayal.
Stomach churning, Dany twisted out of the woman’s arms and retched. Blood and bile splattered down the side of the stone pillar she sat atop. Once the cramps in her belly eased, she turned back to the woman. Her limbs still quivered, though not as violently now.
“I’m dead,” she croaked in the woman’s tongue.
The woman shook her head. “You were. But no longer.”
“Your dragon brought you to us.”
Drogon. Dany stared at her, uncomprehending. “Brought me where? Who are you?”
The woman smiled faintly. “My name is Kinvara. I am a servant of R’hllor. You were brought across the Narrow Sea to the red temple in Volantis. And you are here because the Lord of Light made it so.”
R’hllor. Dany understood now. Melisandre, the Red Woman, she’d done the same for Jon once; he’d finally confessed his shame to Dany one night on that fateful journey north.
The prince who was promised, the Red Woman had declared in the halls of Dragonstone all those moons ago. The princess, Missandei had quietly asserted instead.
“Why?” Dany demanded, lips stiff, teeth clenched. What was the point? “The Others are gone. The Long Night is over. Your god doesn’t need me now.” No one needs me now.
She thought she might be sick again, but Kinvara cupped her cheek, brushing wisps of hair back from her face. “It is true. The Great Other has been defeated, and we rejoice in the lord’s light.” Kinvara’s face darkened. “But now, there is another.”
The wound on her breast burned, and Dany sneered. “Jon Snow.”
“No,” Kinvara said sharply, surprising her. “The pretender known as Brandon Stark. They call him the Three-Eyed Raven.”
Dany didn’t understand. “Bran…But he’s barely a man grown…”
An eerie light danced in the priestess’ eyes. “He is much more than that. He wears your crown, and he grows stronger every day. This time, we face a threat greater than even the Others.” She grabbed Dany’s face again, painfully, tipping her chin up. “And we need you now, more than ever, my queen.”
“Why? Why me?” she asked, her confusion giving way to despair. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if she could turn away from the horrors she’d seen. The atrocities she had committed. “I failed. I failed everyone. I failed myself. I hurt people. I killed people. I—”
“You are fire made flesh, and you cannot be extinguished,” Kinvara intoned. Dany opened her eyes again, and the red priestess smiled at her. “You, Daenerys Stormborn, were meant to cleanse this world of those who would destroy it.”
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