Into the Fire - Daenerys GOT ASOIAF SI

Into the Fire – Daenerys ASOIAF SI

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

CRACK!

A deep echo of thunder drummed through the unimaginably thick walls of Dragonstone. Howling winds tore through any non-glass windows and ceramic tiles from far below in the hamlets around the keep shattered against it’s unassailable walls.

Water flooded through the halls from entrances on the towers and parapets, and servants hurriedly attempted to assuage the damage even as knights and soldiers of all kinds swept passed them barking orders.

Deep in the ancient keep, far from the affects of the water and wind huddled the remains of the royal family who built the megalithic keep. Wails from Rhaella, the widow queen of Westeros, pealed from the chamber and the wet-nurses tried to keep her going through her labor.

Eventually with another deep thud of thunder from far above she gasped, and a wet-nurse cried out.
“It’s a girl Milady!” She cried, raising the still uncleaned newborn.

Her cries soon replaced Rhaella’s, and the mother looked over her child weakly.

“Bring her to me.” The wet-nurse nodded, quickly wiping off most the residue before handing the babe over.

She had a tuft of pure silver hair, and when she opened her eyes they were a vibrant purple.

“Her name shall be Daenerys.”

O-o-o-o-oo-o-o-o-o-o-oo-o-o-o-o

The ship shuddered as it hit a particularly difficult squall.

Viserys tightened his grip on the railing as he released his stomach’s contents over the side of the vessel, and sailors passed by him as they tended to the rigging.

Eventually, his stomach sufficiently empty, the exiled prince made his way back into the cabin which hosted his minuscule retinue.

There, in a bundle of silken sheets, was his sister who, ever so quiet after they had escaped from Dragonstone, simply looked up at him with her eerily attentive eyes.

“Little Sentinel you are, aren't you.” Viserys rasped, before chuckling and sitting down next to her.

Thankfully she seemed to have no issue with the sea, and barring the soiling of her diaper cloth caused no issue, that easily dealt with by one of their few retainers who had fled the castle with them.

“Braavos on the horizon!”

The prince’s head shot up, before he scrambled up to go take his first sight of land in weeks.

The infant in the basket simply sighed and closed her eyes, instantly falling to sleep.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o—o-o-o-o-o-o--o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

A/N – So this is my attempt as a GOT/ASOIAF SI. I’ve had a Daenerys one planned for a long time, but I wanted to do it some justice. If you follow any of my other stories, sorry, but this is the one that’s flowing at the moment.

 

Into the Fire – Daenerys ASOIAF SI

o-o-o-o-o-o-

Willem Darry sighed as he signed off on the purchase of an almost comically small, but luxurious enough, house.

The Banker took the contract from him and nodded in satisfaction.

“Everything looks to order, it is a pleasure to perform business with you.”

Willem nodded to the stone-faced banker and made his way back to the docks.

Braavos was a city foreign to his Westerosi senses. Smallfolk the lot of them, yet varying wildly in wealth and status, with districts far more mixed together than was proper back in the Kingdoms.

The stink of the canals assaulted his senses everywhere he turned, yet for such a huge city that was the worst of it. He’d call it a welcome reprieve from King’s landing if it weren't for the circumstances that led to him being there.

Shaking his retrospection away, he finished his trek back to the ship.

Already some of the Iron Bank officials had gathered, though they were simply stood to the side, looking at their fine ship and likely counting it’s worth in their heads, wondering if they’d received a good deal.

‘Treacherous Essosi’ He thought, he was a knight, honor was his core. Not that he'd expect them to understand such a thing.

He spotted the “King” looking over the railing.

“My King!” He shouted up to him, making the young boy jump up.

“Ser Darry! What have you to tell me?”

Willem sighed, not looking forward to the exchange he knew would come once his King fully realized their situation.

Patting the hull of the ship, he pointed into the city.

“I have secured a small estate for our continued survival, the ship has been sold for the initial purchase, and the treasure should last for most our lives if need be for city taxes”

Viserys puffed up, and cutting him off Willem splayed his hands.

“No matter our next course of action my liege, we need a base of operation, and castles are hard to come by in Essos.”

All around them the last few retainers that had stuck with the princ-king, the king, were already unloading the cargo of the ship.

Some lower workmen from the bank came with wagons to carry their things, Darry didn't trust their vaults in their weakened position, but he did trust their business, and soon enough they were off to the house, marked conveniently in a merchant heavy area with a bright red door.

Willem himself carried the Crown Princess in his arms, trusting no-one else to protect her fragile body. As they marched through the city, he eventually felt a pull on his beard.

Looking down, he chuckled at the serious look, uncharacteristic for a babe, on Daenerys’ face.

“If nothing else, I'll keep you safe.”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Next chapter will be much longer, no worry. Time for a timeskip!

 

Into the Fire – Daenerys ASOIAF SI

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

“Damnit!” Viserys cried, slamming a fist into outer door of the latest wealthy merchant he had begged, begged, for aid against the Usurper.

Ser Darry stood just behind him just like every other time, splendid gilded armor replaced by worn grey plate but still just as solid, the only truly worthy man in the entire damned world by his measure, even if it seemed he got weaker with age every day.

Shaking his head furiously, Viserys sucked in a breath before wiping his forehead.

“I grow tired of this Ser Darry. Let’s go… home, for now.”

The knight simply nodded, and they made their way to a conveniently placed boat station. The water carriages were always present to rake in business.

Tossing a copper piece the boatman’s way, Viserys collapsed into his hard wooden bench as the boatman began to whistle and row.

‘Great, a jolly one’

After a few minutes, Viserys sighed and looked to Darry.

“How has Daenerys been taking to her lessons?” He said, voice tinged with bitterness.

Darry though, visibly brightened in expression without nary a change in look.

“She still retains her exemplary progress. Already she is outpacing any tutors we can hire. It’s as if the gods themselves have blessed her mind.”

Viserys just smiled bitterly.

‘Of course, the perfect princess to help lead a realm, wasted in this cesspool’

As his leg shook with anxiousness, an idea slowly formed in his mind.

He mulled it over for the rest of the boat ride, and when they exited at their district he crossed his arms and turned to Darry.

“How would one contact the Golden Company?

o-o—o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I’m 3 now.

I’m 3 years old in a medieval (well, here renaissance-ish) era world where a cold could still easily knock me dead.

At least I can walk and use my hands properly. The first year I was… reborn, had been sanity rending as my normally high input mind was starved of any form of entertainment, or even just anything to do.

Even my well earned freak-out had worn off quickly, not even halfway through the journey across the sea.

Still, I think I've well adjusted to my new life. Since we still had our remaining wealth life wasn't too hard, and books, while expensive, were well within our budget.

Paper too, which was damn good for the sudden investment I've been putting into my art. But at the moment I was using it for something else.

Ignoring my current nanny as she called for me to go eat I finished penning a design on a piece of rough parchment (I saved the finer stuff for finished work), carefully looking it over as the ink dried and trying to find any flaw in my design.

Hrm, no, should be a simple enough thing, just the initial expense would be hard to justify. Maybe make a smaller test model to show it off first?

After the ink was dried, I stored the design away and sighed at my current lack of ability to perform any form of heavy lifting. I was three and a girl besides.

I stood up from my well used leather padded chair and made my way downstairs to eat my “favorite” meal of beans, rice, a small strip of red meat, smells like beef today, with a varying side of vegetables and a cup of mostly fresh milk.

I actually despised most vegetables, felt milk should only be drank with pancakes and pb&j sandwiches, and only liked beans on occasion. But I'll be damned if I can’t ring out as much height and “development” out of this body as I can. Also the milk served to build up a resistance to disease that would inevitably be required in this filth covered world. (or at least that's how I thought it worked, may be wrong, meh)

I ate my food quickly, today was a rest day, tomorrow I'll exercise before I eat, today is for some level of enjoyment.

As I ate I looked to the small glass window, a luxury even in Braavos, and narrowed my eyes at the sight of Viserys coming with Willem.

Shit, he was just off to seek support wasn't he? Better scram.

Slamming the rest of my milk down, I ran off into the small courtyard to snatch a lemon from the tree before entering my “workshop” (a storeroom with a desk and some secondhand craftsman tools I'd gathered over my short life) and locking the door.

I’m not dealing with your shit this day brother!

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Lisa, maid to the exiles, hummed as she cleaned the estate room by room.

This was an easy enough job, steady pay, nary any harassment, though she worried about when Viserys got a bit older, he was already eyeing her up, and she knew the law hardly mattered to the rich.

Eventually she found herself in the storage room. It had been a while since she’d dusted.

Opening the door, she blinked at the sight of the princess sat on the ground, fiddling with some wooden contraption.

She looked up, a smear of oil on her cheek.

“Oh, hello Lisa.” She stated, before immediately turning back to the thing in her hands.

Lisa herself let out a sigh.

“You know the young master doesn't like you getting dirty Dany.”

the girl just shrugged, then grabbed a wooden board from the contraption and jiggled it, before turning to her with a frown.

“Can you give this thing a good thump Lisa?” She lifted the thing up, and Lisa giggled before doing so.

The board seemed to lock into place around it’s four wooden dowels, and with a cry of victory Daenerys set the thing on her desk where some parchment was sat.

“Daenerys?” Lisa asked, looking concerned as the girl grabbed some inks and began apply it to some blocks she hadn't noticed on the bottom board of the device.

She just grinned at her.

“Hmm, oh don’t worry, just a fun project. Can you help me put a rock on this?” The girl slid a piece of parchment inside and brought the top board down, and Lisa shook her head.

“Alright, but after you must bathe and go straight to bed.” Dany just nodded absentmindedly as Lisa lifted a hefty rock the girl seemed to have dragged in here.

Placing it atop the device, she turned to her.

“Now, a bath then bed young lady!”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o—o-o-o-o-o-oo

A/N – I remember scrolling through the wiki to see Viserys hosting the golden company. Next time you may see Dany’s suitable reaction and the shitstorm that’ll cause.
Oh fun times ahead.
Hmm, oh yes, and don't let your kids near woodworking tools, it’s a recipe for disaster.

 

Into the Fire – Daenerys ASOIAF SI

o—o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The grand Celebration Hall of Braavos sparkled with the glow of a thousand candles,, all spaced out along the feasting tables in positions to add to the aura of the moment.

The long mahogany tables were draped with fine linen and foodstuffs, from simple pastries to whole roast pigs were arrayed all over the hall.

Hundreds of men in glittering jewel encrusted armor raised tankards of ale or goblets of wine in their feasting, heartily tearing through the delicate meats, well seasoned cheeses and fresh fruits with gusto that only hardened veterans could produce. Even more outside the hall throughout the city and in a small tent city outside also feasted.

Viserys himself sat at the head of the hall, appearing all like a mighty king on his well carved wooden throne, alongside the captain-general himself of the Golden Company.

I simply sat in my place next to him, eye twitching with force every moment I spotted somebody take our gold into their mouths then shout for more.

Fist clenched under the table, I tried to appear aloof at least, but the lack of conversation from the lieutenant next to me spoke volumes for my current disposition.

The would-be king himself raised a glass of wine to the roiling crowd of happy men below.

“This is a mighty feast, is it not?” The crowd ignored him at first, his reedy voice not managing to pierce the thicket.

Some coughs from the officers quickly made their way down the ranks though, and within a minute everybody looked to the suddenly less confident Viserys.

“A grand host such as this, I can scarcely imagine any force in this world that could withstand you. So here, eat my food and drink my drink, for I can promise you far more feasts in the future.”

My hands were bleeding. Holy shit they were actually bleeding.

“As such, I turn to the commander himself, what say you, noble Westerosi, shall you take up arms, and bring me to my rightful throne? Off to your true home?”

The company commander, Harry Strickland, smiled and stood up, causing everyone in the hall to do the same.

He continued to smile at Viserys for a good few seconds, before casually grabbing a choice haunch of turkey, glistening with the seasonings I had myself helped with (at Viserys’ insistence) and took a proper chomp out of it.

This signaled the rest of his men to follow.

Mostly finished chewing, the captain-general smirked.

“I would never deny free food for me and my boys, but alas, leaving Essos isn't good for business. And from the very fact that I do not see you living ina grand palace, with dozens of guards,tells me you do not have the gold to keep us for long.”

Viserys’ rapidly reddening face was nearly steaming at this point, but the commander casually turned away, grabbing a new haunch, turkey lover this one, and the unopened bottle of wine on the table before whistling as his men began to stand, patting heavy bellies and re-securing their arms and armor they had loosened.

“Wait, you’re just going to eat my food and leave?” Viserys cried, and the men began a rolling laughter spreading through the hall until it’s cacophony hurt my delicate young ears.

“Don’t ever offer anything free ‘milord’, for there is no reason to follow up on a promise that doesn't exist.”

The crowd was halfway through the entrance, all the mostly full containers of alcohol noticeably absent, before Viserys stood to his feet and screa-ahem, I mean, “roared” with fury.

Darry quickly grabbed him, stopping him from doing anything that would cause an incident, and I simply sat back and ate my fill.

I had just grabbed one of the few haunches of well seasoned meat left for myself as the golden Company was gone, and Viserys was let go to throw a bottle of ale across the hall.

“YOU!” I looked up from my delicious, delicious turkey and raised a brow at my brother’s heaving shoulders. His eyes narrowed, and suddenly my meat was on the other side of the room.

“Meat~” I whimpered, before lifting myself up to glare at him.

“What was that for!”

His nostrils flared.

“How can you just sit there and eat at a time like this!” He cried out, before finally grabbing my arm.

Oh fuck no.

“Darry!”

In an instant, Viserys was separated from me, and the closest thing to a father figure we had turned a baleful glare to my brother, who just realized what he did and, to his credit, looked ashamed.

“I… need to think.” He turned away and left, likely off to get more wine.

Idiot, there's perfectly fine wine right here, it’s expensive shit too.

Sigh

“Your grace, please try not to antagonize your brother.” I gave Darry an incredulous look, and he stiffened.

“You have been silently mocking him for this entire debacle. I understand that you may not agree with him, but that is no reason to actively scorn him.”

I sighed and shook my head.

“Do we still have enough money to live comfortably?"

The man coughed.

“Yes, Mayhaps not as luxuriously as royalty should, but you could still afford the lifestyle of a wealthy merchant.” I sucked in air through my nose.

Godsdamnit all, my idiot brother’s going to ruin us.

“And you still refuse to place it at the ban-”

Darry slashed his arm.

“Absolutely not, nobody can be trusted with such a large sum but us, who knows whether or not the bankers would simply refuse us your money come withdrawal and leave you destitute!” He stated, just like all the other times I'd suggested it.

Sucks that this exact position would be what ruins us, you old fart.

I snorted and turned aside, picking up a spilled goblet and placing it upright.

“The mess alone going to be quite the bill.“ I eyed a candle and casually flitted my fingers through the flames.

My one advantage in the world, other than our risky wealth and my stolen birthright. I had no idea whether this was true in the books or the show, but I know that fire does not hurt me.

Perhaps… I should use that…..

No, I'm not that desperate… yet….

Though perhaps I should start… researching, just in case.

Yes….

Oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-o-o

“Hmm, interesting.”

I stared as the man turned over my most advanced printing press in his arms a few times, testing the weight, moving the parts back and forth, and giving a good look to the letter blocks and the sack beside me of similar blocks.

He turned to me.

“Ten silver”

My brow twitched, and I nearly gave Darry the signal to kill this bastard.

No, calm down, don't resort to murder, you’re better than that.

“That’s hardly worth the effort it takes to make one of those.”

The man shrugged before waving it at me.

“I could probably make one of these myself lass, go on, leave without the money, or take it. Five silver.”

My shoulders shook, before they dropped and I held out my hand.

“Yes please.”

o-o—o-o-o-o-o-o-

The thing that sucks about one of your only advantages in this world being knowledge, was that whatever you could make by yourself, just about anybody else could with the right idea in mind.

So it was I began to hear rumors across the marketplace about a new tool falling into the hands of the copyist guild, and I tried to ignore the potential spoils I could have had.

I suppose that in a land without patents it can hardly be expected to achieve anything unless it could not be replicated, but what could I do like that without a large investment?

I began to ruminate but, before we were even halfway home, Darry stumbled and clutched at his chest, before taking a knee.

I rushed over.

“Darry!” I cried, and he looked up and waved an arm.

“I’m fine, I'm fine, just an ache, nothing else.” He gritted out.

Despite what he said, it was a good few minutes before he was able to move again at the same speed, and he seemed to want to clutch at his breast the rest of the day.

Tell me pretty lies all you want Darry, I know your time is limited.

Shit, I'm only four, how the hells am I supposed to do this?

I’d just have to store my stolen treasure faster. All throughout the house courtyard there were little pits I had placed our wealth when I though no-one was looking, mostly gems or jewelry, with a few gold bits here and there.

It wasn't much, it’s kind of hard to miss a little girl with an arm full of wealth, after all, but I had a fair amount stored over the years from when Darry would let me into the vault to try on the family jewels.

“Vault” was a kind word for the room with a solid oak door and locked chests, but still.

I fingered my heavily encrusted bracelets. The golden company had some wisdom to them, carry your wealth with you.

Or maybe Darry could just store at least a little of our stuff in the bank, come on!

…

I hope he doesn't die, I really do…

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A/N – Sorry, I've had this finished for a while, just got lazy with editing.
So yeah, not the best idea to go showing off your inventions to people if it’s too simple, otherwise they might just catch on how to make it themselves.

 

Into the Fire – Daenerys ASOIAF SI

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

It happened in the middle of the night.

Our hired guards had been off on their day off to drink their pay away, and Darry was to be patrolling the halls this night.

Unfortunately, the fact he collapsed was rapidly made known by our servants, and soon enough all those awake had the door to our money open using the key from Darry’s still warm body.

I awoke to cries of jubilation and the sound of metal jingling and feet pounding the floors, and as soon as I had seen what had happened I knew all was lost.

Rushing out into the small courtyard with it’s single lemon tree still standing in the center, I quickly dug up my most valuable gems and pocketed them, thankful that I had such things on my linen pajamas.

I began to hear my brother’s voice screaming, picking out the fact he was demanding they put the money back.

Oh my poor, soon to be literally poor brother, I kinda sorta love you but damn you’re stupid.

Finishing my task, I returned to my room to pack a satchel with a few coins and smaller gems thrown in to throw off our little traitors, thankful that most my plans were inside my own head, then ran out to my brother, as the door was the only way out.

There one of the servants, the cook, I noted with hurt in my chest, was sort of directing the whole affair. A big burly man that I'd grown somewhat fond of while trying to cook dishes from “home”.

The bastard, I'll kill you.

“Oy, the children are here.”

The others snorted, and soon enough the chef opened the door.

“Get out of here, I’ve got a party to arrange.” He waved a piece of paper with a grin, it was the proof of purchase Darry had stored away.

After Viserys opened his mouth, a meaty hand knocked him to the floor with a mighty slap to the face.

“Been waiting to do that for ages.” He said, sneering.

Soon enough my satchel was ripped from me, and he shoved me out the door while literally booting Viserys.

The red door slammed shut.

Oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

As sunlight turned to dusk, I looked to my hands, clasped together, before sighing.

I was sat with Viserys on a bench outside one of the iron bank’s buildings. He was muttering angrily to himself, visibly shaking.

I had handed him most of our valuables already, which he’d nearly knocked out of my hands before realizing what he was about to do.

I still had a few choice gems on my person, but I was certainly not wealthy.

Sneaking a glance to the sky, I sighed.

“I suppose there’s nothing for it.”

Standing up, I noted Viserys looking to me and I grit my teeth.

“Good luck brother.”

I began to walk away, and he grabbed my shoulder.

“Where do yo think you’re going?” He asked, and I sighed.

“I suppose you could say I'm off to join the faith, there’s nowhere else to go, just keep yourself healthy brother.”

I then tore myself from his grasp and ran.

Ignoring his cries, I ran until i9 was far enough away to be sure he wouldn't find me.

Slowing to a stroll, I made my way through town towards the center where the Green, Hero’s, and Long Canal met, forming a sort of central “lake”.

Towards the northwest end was a collection of islands supporting huge, grand temples, the Moonsinger’s most prominent compared to the Isle of the Gods containing dozens of smaller temples.

Also starkly obvious yet at the same time plain and unobtrusive was the house of black and white, the home of the worshiper of death.

There was even a Sept of the Seven.

I ignored all of that to focus on one in particular. Not the largest temple, nor the richest, but still it had an island to itself and it seemed the most… bright, so say the least.

Atop the temple was a huge flame that only grew larger as dusk approached, braziers all across the island lit with roaring fires and red robed priests wondered about, tending to the fires or proselytizing to passersby.

I brushed past everyone until I was in the main chamber of the temple, the polished marble of the exterior gave way to the same, yet hidden by the orange and red light from the central fire filling the chamber. I gulped as I tried to push my nerves away.

At least I was safe, if nothing else.

I walked towards a Red Priestess who wasn't yet preaching one of the small groups wandering about. Despite the temple’s prominence they had nowhere near the crowds I could see roiling even from a distance on the Moonsinger's isle, only a few scattered groupings.

The woman, who was rather attractive in a sultry manner which I was not yet old enough to appreciate, looked to me with a small smile.

“Ah, are you here to learn of R'hllor young one? I haven't seen you here before.”

I resisted the urge to sigh, I've heard all the pretty words preacher’s say.

“I’ve been thinking about it miss, can you tell me about him?”

the woman smiled kindly and knelt down slightly to get her eyes almost level with mine, huh, she knows children.

“If you truly seek to save yourself, then I suppose it is not too late in the day. Come, stand by me next to the flame, but I'll have you know that we’ll be performing the ritual of the night soon, so this will have to be brief.”

The large bonfire in the center of the room of course dominated the room, set inside a well cut stone basin with bronze fittings.

Standing before it, the Priestess stared into the flames for but a moment before turning to me, good, no alarm yet.

“Here child, I'm sure you’ve gazed into a fireplace before at least once, yes?” She said, words silky smooth to my ears, though I'm sure from the large jewel at her collar it was some form of magic.

“Yes.” It had been a fruitless effort on my part to get a read on the Red God before I attempted this, but I was obviously missing some form of technique the priestess would either perform or use themselves to gaze into the flame.

As it were, I'm sure she was talking about casually while cooking or something.

“Yes, well, it is our faith’s primary method of worship to our god, R'hllor. Most times, it manifests as peaceful meditation, where in occasionally, if we are blessed, he will render unto us a vision of his will, this can be of the future, or the past, or simply what he wills us to do in his name.

“Other than that, we also offer on to him a sacrifice, something of worth, so usually we will sacrifice a cow if a wealthy farmer wishes for a good harvest, or perhaps a goat from the shepherds, in hope of avoiding the lusts of the Dothraki.”

I looked to the roaring bonfire and tapped her knee.

“I’ve heard grown-ups say that you burn people too.”

The woman continued to smile.

“Yes, for great deeds that require greater sacrifice, like war, politics, and even changing the weather itself, we give onto Him the most valuable thing in this world.”

Hmph, even if the soul is real, which I'm willing to give to this world, I'm fairly sure human souls aren't anywhere near all that important. I'm sure there’s things worth more in the eyes of a god than us puny mortals.

But, as it were, I've got a miracle to perform.

“And, um, preistess lady?”

The woman chuckled.

“Oh call me Anise, young one.”

I nodded.

“If R'hllor is the god of fire, then what happens if something does not burn?”

The woman tilted her head.

“All things burn child, even metal and stone melt, if the flame burns hot enough.”

I stood up and looked to the flames.

Well R'hllor, if you want to strike a deal, now will be the time.

I sucked in a breath, before leaping into the ashy pit.

Everyone in the church gasped or cried out as they saw a child seemingly leap to her death, but after a minute they just stared gaping at my naked form kneeling in the fire.

The reason for my own silence, other than instinctively holding my breath even though it wasn't truly needed, was the images passing by my eyes.

I saw Dothraki hoards burning and retreating, I saw cities fall, I saw fleets sink below the sea.

But, most importantly, I saw a sword, wreathed in flame, in my hand and a great expanse of snow in front of me, a tide of sickening black in the distance barreling towards me and a line of shadowy figures I couldn't make out.

Finally the visions overwhelmed me, and I tumbled out of the bonfire.

Catching my breath, for even for me breathing in the center of a fire made me feel lightheaded, I looked up to see everybody looking at me with shocked eyes, then, slowly, they all knelt.

Anise stood there for a good few second before something came over her and she too knelt, though this was to grasp my shoulders.

“You, you must be a gift from R'hllor himself… Praise the Flame! Praise the Sun!”

Chants echoed through the chamber, and even with all the possibilities now running through my head I just couldn't get one thing out of my mind.

Give me clothes already!

o-o—o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A/N - Phew, this chapter took a lot of editing to work into something that isn’t a train-wreck, a lot of wiki searching, a lot of research, but the next chapter will be a lot easier.
Ok, I know a lot of you don't like Daenerys being fireproof, for whatever reason despite that it’s cool as heck, but that’s how it’s going to be here.
Now, I've got a general plan for the future, but some help with the lore of Essos would be helpful.
Oh, and I am 22 at the time I was reborn, so theoretically Kaiserys would be mentally 27 as she is now 5, but soon I'll be exploring why that doesn't quite work for somebody with the brain of a child.
Oh, and PRAISE THE SUN! \`[T] /

 

Into the Fire – Daenerys ASOIAF SI

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

It’s… surprising, just how much having perfect vision still disturbs me.

Funny right? Something so supposedly good, and even I had to admit it was convenient and just generally better, but when you’ve lived most of a life wearing glasses they become a part of you, I consistently reached to grab glasses from a nightstand that didn't exist, even after having gone through being a literal infant all over again.

I actually missed the slight ache the bridge of my nose would develop over the course of the day from the weight of the vision correctors, I consistently tried to keep my eyes focused around my old field of view, even though my peripheral vision had no issues.

It felt godsdamn unnatural to be able to see hills and trees on the horizon with such crispness, hardly even a need to squint.

Just my damn luck that my biggest hangup was my glasses of all things.

A knock at the door made me look up, before I sighed.

“Come in.”

The door swung open, revealing an oldish looking man who immediately gave me a deliberate once over.

My linen pajamas were gone, replaced by a simple red robe of a red priestess, except pint sized.

Around my neck hung a gold sigil which would apparently work to get me anywhere in the temple, yet I knew I was still restricted by what my bodyguards would allow.

It wasn't a deliberate attempt to restrain me, from what I could tell. I was still just five years old, and my life was a sudden precious commodity to the temple.

“There are representatives from Volantis here to see you… Blessed.” He quickly turned away, not allowing me to get a read on his opinion on that.

The revelation of my fireproof nature and the apparent favor R'hllor extended towards me had, after the initial reaction, sparked intense controversy among the Red Faith.

Oh, they tried to keep me out of it, but even I could see the factionalism quickly spreading through the order.

I had a horrible feeling I'd knocked over a hornet’s nest, upset a fragile balance I hadn't even known existed.

Still, it seemed everybody agreed that I was at least important to R’hllor, if nothing else, so again, relatively safe.

I noticed the man staring at me, and I blushed.

“Ah, sorry, lost in thought, coming.”

Jumping off the bed, I slipped my bare feet into a pair of leather Jesus sandals, because fuck shoes, and I loved the inside joke.

The older man set off, and I followed as quick as my tiny legs could follow. The inner maze of the Braavos red temple living quarters were relatively austere in comparison to the rooms of worship, though the rooms each priest had to themselves and several lounge rooms were noticeably silk laden with all variety of bronze and gold candle works.

Stopping before a bronze door, the man glanced back to me.

“The assistant of the High Priest is a tad… intense.” He stated, before with barely another glance the door was opened.

I stepped inside, noting the bronze, gold and iron decorations all along the walls, making it seem as if the circular room was surrounded by a crown of metal fire, one of the most ostentatious rooms I have seen here so far, and of course the red silks that were ever-present hanging from the ceiling.

Opposite the door was a fireplace, and in the center was a round table with many priests sat at it.

Some rose at the sight of me, though notably I saw one or two narrow their eyes.

“Come child, sit.” I looked to the speaker, it was a tall woman with fair skin, inextricably attractive like most of the priestesses, yet I saw no magic makeup collar. Her hair was blacker than any I've seen, and she had rather large eyes that looked were amazingly gold colored.

I took an empty chair, before noting the wood of the table. It was a stark, blinding white, with blackened runes burned into it in intricate patterns.

Is that weirwood? Oh shit.

The woman smiled.

“Now, we have been discussing the Revelation that many of us have received from our Lord over the passed few weeks, despite several… divergent, interpretations of his will, most of can agree that R'hllor approved heavily of something about you, the sights in the flames have been especially … vibrant. There have even been mutterings about you being… well, something world-changing.”

The fire in the hearth suddenly appeared very fascinating, and by the fact that the heads of everyone else in the room and shifted to look there, I felt a bead of cold sweat from sheer nervousness.

Focusing on it revealed that the flames were roaring mightily, yet there had only been a small fire when we entered the room.

All the magic being thrown around lately is making me nervous.

The woman shook herself before nodding to me, visibly attempting not to gaze into the flames.

“You are Daenerys Targaryen, exiled Princess of Westeros, heir to ...”king” Viserys, claimant to the Iron Throne, yes?”

I nodded.

“So would we be remiss in that your goal is to retake the Iron Throne?” The woman had an unreadable expression on her face, I noticed she had not mentioned giving the throne to my brother.

I looked away and clasped my hands.

“I’ve been… thinking on what to do with R'hllor's gifts for a fair while.” I closed my eyes and bowed my head a bit.

“While the calls of my dead family roar to kill the Usurper and restore Targaryen rule over the Seven Kingdoms, and bringing this Faith into Westeros would certainly be a feat of worth by itself, a greater task has been stuck in my mind for a while. It heavily concerns the fate of the Faith in it’s heartlands, in these lands, in establishing R’hllor’s reach farther and wider than it has ever had.”

I looked up, and smiled.

“It starts with bringing magic back into this world.”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Random Guardsman

-

The large crowd of red robed fanatics was disturbing to be near.

Kylo placed a hand on the hilt of his sword as he watched the crowd of Red Priests and Priestesses grow. They’d been gathering for the past hour by the three ships that had come into harbor this morning, and he had no idea what was going on.

Eventually he noticed a new group coming in from the city. Dozens of Priests, this time adorned with mail covered in red tabards and solid helms, all wielding swords.

In the center of their group was a few more normal looking priests and a small child in the robes.

“What?” He muttered, as they all began to board the ships.

Within the hour everyone who seemed to be leaving was on board, and the ship was off.

This was a new level of strangeness from the red freaks.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o—o-o-o-o-o

Robert

-

‘Petitions and counting coppers, then more petitions, and more coppers.’ Robert Baratheon, first of his name, King of the Andals, Rhoynar, and the First Men thought to himself, goblet of wine in hand as he sat on his throne.

‘Hells, whenever it wasn't those two things it was petty issues that wasn't even worth thinking about. Who bloody cares if some pissants are painting ball and pillars on your house?!’

Throwing back the goblet of wine, Robert then pounded a fist on the armrest of the throne, the loud thump stopping dead the simpering of the latest petitioner, something about items disappearing from his tavern.

“This is an issue for the Goldcloaks, I don't even know how you got here, leave now.”

Standing up, Robert growled.

“I need a fucking hunt, Selmy! Prepare the hunting party!” He shouted.

Stomping off, he tried very hard to ignore the smug face of his damned wife as he entered the inner corridors leading towards Maegor’s keep, he wanted to go out in full armor this time, he’d get enough boar and deer to feed the entire keep if he had anything to say about it!

In his path was Varys, which made his face darken.

“Well then, spit it out. Never see your shining head unless there’s fires to put out.”

The eunuch bowed his head quickly before lifting a hand with a scroll in it.

“The Exiles have been separated, Viserys stands alone while his sister has joined the faith.”

Robert blinked once, then again before raising a brow.

This was too good to be true.

“Well, that’s one way to get rid of her then, so what’s the issue.” Varys lifted his head with a neutral expression.

“I’m afraid it’s slightly more complicated than that Sire. See, she joined the Red god’s faith, and not just as an initiate.”

Varys sighed.

“It appeared she’s become, overnight, some kind of holy figure for them. Even now her person with a large escort is being brought to Volantis for purposes unknown, but I assume them to be worrisome. The power of the Red Priests is very much evident in Volantis and, depending on how it is handled, she may soon have a considerable amount of support.”

Robert opened and closed his hand, before finally clenching it.

“Then she is an active threat. Fine then, damn Ned’s wishes. Get rid of her, and the boy-spawn while you’re at it.”

Vary bowed his head, and Robert brushed past him.

He really needed to kill something now.

o-oo—o-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A/N – I’m loving the responses I've been getting to this story, so much discussion and enthusiasm, it makes me inspired to write.
Less so on SV, but that’s to be expected, traffic on that one is always slow
Obviously, things are starting to get real interesting! Muahahaha!
PS: The timeline will be meeting the show, so ages are set there. So basically when Winter comes Daenerys will be 22, and the events of canon start when she is 17. Don't worry, I'm sure you’ve all figured out by now that this is definitely not pure show canon.

 

Into the Fire – Daenerys GOT ASOIAF SI

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Traveling by ship is damn slow.

I mean, not ridiculously, these were efficient enough cargo ships for the era of ship development I had found myself in, but still, the view got old after a while.

I spent the many weeks of travel being taught about the faith, what was expected of me as a higher ranked Priestess (I wasn't really being given power yet, but once I was older oh boy would I be high ranked) and even some basics on how to look into flames.

By the time we arrived in the grand port of Volantis, I had enough of the basics down to not spread disinformation about “our” practices.

Heh, going to have to get used to being a member of the church.

Once we’d arrived, my escort quickly brought me in to meet the High Priest of R'hllor, who… bowed down to me.

Looking up, he had a manic beaming smile on his heavily flame tattooed face.

“Blessed of R’hllor! We welcome you to the greatest temple of the Lord of Light.”

I tilted my head in confusion, he seemed remarkably sure of this, everyone else seemed to get that I was important in the flames, but not exactly the reason.

Maybe he’s just that kind of nutty? Works for me.

“I gratefully accept your welcome High Priest. I am Daenerys Targaryen, I would know the name of R’hllor’s… greatest servant.”

Ooh I just felt a chill, playing the Game is different than I thought it would be.

Thankfully he seemed to take this in stride, simply bowing his head and accepting what was basically me placing myself higher than him. You see, all of R’hllor’s priests declared themselves to be slaves of R'hllor.

I’d just hinted that I was more.

“This humble servant of R'hllor is called Benerro, I lead the faith in Volantis. I have heard word of your wondrous goal, how may we be of assistance in meting out R’hllor’s will?”

I smiled, leaving the topic of asking about the exact international structure of the faith for later.

“Several components are needed. First off all, we will need dragon eggs, as many as can be procured, but one will do for the initial ritual. We also need a suitable sacrifice, a powerful magician, I do not know if they need to be of any particular skill-set, but a shadowbinder from Asshai would be ideal.”

The High Priest's followers began to mutter amongst themselves, but I ignored that to press a hand to my heart.

“And of course, I shall accompany them both into the flame, to become mother to all dragons to come.”

Benerro’s eyes were wide, before he simply nodded and rose.

“It will be as is proclaimed. No matter the cost.” He stated, before smiling at me.

“Now, your quarters have been prepared, would you like to see them?”

A hand was extended towards me, and I took it with a nod.

He proceeded to lead me into the temple.

o-o-o-o—o-o-o-o-o

Months later

-

The Temple of the Lord of Light in Volantis was truly ginormous. Several times larger than even the Sept of Baelor, there wasn't even just one main chamber.

The main chamber was huge yes, but other than that there were several others off to the sides, clever engineering allowing for each wall of stained glass windows to receive natural light, little alleys between each chamber with raised and angled polished marble platforms reflecting as much light as possible into the windows, which threw red, orange, and yellow light all over the many chambers.

The halls to get around the temple were like elongated churches in themselves, lined seemingly forever with tall stained glass windows and luxury everywhere.

Rising high above were dozens of towers and castle like constructions melding everything together, bridges crisscrossing everything.

Each worship chamber had a skylight right above a central fire pit, and at night each was lit, alongside dozens outside and across the temple grounds.

Still, I stood in the circular central chamber, hundreds of curious worshipers who’d arrived for the standard night fires looking to the five year old holding the hand of the High Priest of R'hllor.

The Red Faith was definitely a people’s religion. Unlike in Braavos, thousands of followers were already swarming the grounds. The prayers of the devotees and the loud proselytizing of the priests almost hurt my sensitive young ears, but I still grinned as I saw the men of the hour approach.

A small group approached me, one man kneeling and offering me the huge stone egg of an actual dragon.

Taking it, I felt the rough scales and smiled gently, letting the fantastical moment fill me before I crushed those feelings to look upon the necessary part of what would happen next.

The sorceress they had snatched was ancient, yet still I could see her eastern features easily enough, was she from Yi Ti? Maybe some other eastern nation, I doubt many are actually born in Asshai.

Her hair was white from age, skin pale, no doubt from living in such a dark cursed land such as Asshai, yet otherwise she seemed remarkably healthy for her advanced age. Skin still pulled tight, musculature not deteriorated, form not yet as saggy as would be expected, and most of all she seemed remarkably alert.

She was gagged, yet still I could hear the desperate cries from her throat as she realized what was happening.

I spoke quietly.

“Sorry for this, but if it is any solace at all, know that you shall bring magic back to this world in force.” Bowing my head, I turned away and let one of the priests help me down into the huge metal lined pit.

For such a huge fire-pit that is regularly used, it had no ashes. Must be something the lower priests clean, I could totally see that being an added ritual to everything else.

I noted holes for pipes leading underground, hm, wonder if they’re for air?

Sitting cross-legged in the center, I held the egg in my lap as the magic woman was tied to a pole which was secured next to me.

Great.

As the ritual began, wood was quickly formed up around us into a large rectangular, almost cabin-like, structure. Tinder filled the floor up and over my legs, and finally glistening oil was allowed to drip down the logs for an easy start to the fire.

Benerro himself was leading the ritual, seemingly a fusion of the typical night ritual, plus some on the fly stuff about what we were doing now.

I saw, through the gaps between the logs, a taller priest come in with a long iron rod which held a torch sized flame at the end.

Reaching in, it touched down just in front of me, and I got to see the flame take to the tinder and the small twigs that were spread about, and soon enough low flames had spread about the bottom of the pit.

The woman behind me began to shake, her gagged screaming forcing me to cover my ears.

Soon enough the flames were making their way up the logs with the help of the oil, and I sat my head back and closed my eyes to commit the woman’s voice, what I could hear of it, into my brain.

If I'm never going to forget this, than may as well remember it correctly.

After several minutes had passed, her screaming was long done, yet still I could feel her legs shaking manically. At this point the flames were raging chaotically, even I could feel the heat like you would feel heat seep from a cup of tea into your hands, almost but not quite burning you.

I wonder what those outside were seeing? Was this a huge roaring magic fire, or was it just another night fire like any other?

Lowering my hands, I hugged the egg to my tiny body.

It’ll all be worth it, just keep this in mind.

The woman’s shaking stopped.

It’s worth the sacrifice.

...

It’s worth it.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-

The Fire was kept up all night long.

Of course it was, this seconded as a night fire after all.

At some point I got lightheaded and was forced to bring my face down by the air pipes to refresh myself, it didn't matter how much fire or smoke entered my lungs, as long as I could steal a little bit of oxygen it was fine.

This happened several times throughout the night, until eventually I fell asleep, somehow, even with everything else happening, I fell asleep, clutching my egg to my chest.

O-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

When I awoke, it was to ash and cinders.

Pressing an arm down into the fine particulate, I pushed myself up.

Opening my eyes, I found myself in a sea of ash. Still smoldering cinders covered the sea with a layer of charcoal, smoke still rising, yet gently.

Looking around, I felt my heart skip a beat in panic.

Where’s the egg!?!

Scrambling up, I stopped at the sound of … chirping?

Looking down, I couldn't stop a slight squeal at the sight of a tiny dragon baby looking up at me, it wheezed, releasing a tiny breath of warm air in my face.

It was an ashy grey, it’s horns and other harder bits glinting silver, which the occasional mark of black on it’s body.

Reaching forth, I chuckled a bit under my breath.

“I suppose I have no choice but to name you Ash, huh?” I said, voice hoarse, yet I couldn't help my feeling of elation.

I’d just brought about a dramatic change to an entire planet, and I couldn't help the feeling.

Hmm, I'll be needing water now I suppose?

Looking up, I noted the large crowd looking down at me with amazed expressions, and I grinned up at them, before lifting the baby WMD with some triumph, trying to ignore the event required for it to be born.

“Behold the future!”

I closed my eyes as the crowd went wild, simply hugging my dragon to myself.

There's still so much to do.

O-o-o-o-o-o-oo-o-o-

A/N – I’m actually going to have to research how priests talk to crowds aren't I? Damnit, now I've got to trudge through a bunch of religious crap.
Oh well, I may as well have asked for it, writing this.

 

Into the Fire – Daenerys GOT ASOIAF SI

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Robert

-

“You all said she was toothless.”

The voice was quiet, yet everyone else in the room still stiffened in some way or another at the statement.

Jon Arryn, Lord Paramount of the Vale, Hand to the king and foster of said king bowed his head.

“It was nothing else than a simple minded mistake on my part Robert, I had no idea that… magic, still lived in any fashion. The implications are worrying.”

Robert looked into his foster father’s eyes before looking away with a snort, and then ignoring the plain face of Varys.

Even he couldn't blame the Spider for something nobody could know… except for the dragon-spawn herself, it seems.

Still, he glared at the parchment on his table. The writings of dragons hatching dragons for all to see.

The wood of his chair groaned from the force of his grip.

The his eyes widened as a thought came to mind.

“This is a Royal Decree from your king. Search all the lands, send a missive to my brother on his island, and Driftmark, and this keep itself, anywhere it seems relevant.

“Search for any blasted dragon eggs, and bring them here for me to smash apart! I don't care what price, as long as that bitch doesn't get any!”

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Doran

-

The Prince of Dorne fingered the missive from one of his informants in Essos.

“And you are sure of this?” He said lowly, looking up to said man.

The man nodded, something strange in his eye.

“Yes, hundreds personally saw the prin- Daenerys lift the dragon in triumph. It is small yet, not even the size of her itself, but I know enough to know they grow fast.”

Doran nodded, remembering his histories.

Steeping his hands together, he thought over the news, trying to work it around his many plots.

Eventually, he pulled a fresh piece of parchment from the easily reached lectern of his solar, inking a pen in preparation.

“I shall not be making any promises as yet, we both know how that worked last time, and I doubt she would accept being a lesser partner in any marriage agreements as yet, but I think we should begin… talks.”

The plain-faced man simply bowed his head as he began to write.

o-o-oo-o-o-o-o—ooo—ooo-o-

Thoros

-

The rumors were what drew him from his hangover.

Eavesdropping from his table at the tavern, tankard of dark beer in hand, he listened as several began to discuss in hushed whispers of the dragon being awakened in old Volantis, of a child walking into fire, then leaving unharmed, of red robed persons roaming the lands hunting eggs and sorcerers.

Thoros sighed, tapping his fingers on the table, before shaking his head.

Pulling back, he downed the last of the drink before slamming the tankard down and standing up.

Dropping a few pennies, he left for the door.

“About time I stopped drinking my days away.” He muttered, squinting his eyes as the light of day stung them.

He’d take what few he had managed to convert with him though.

o---o-o-oo-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Taemys

-

“These happenings are worrying.”

Three small palanquins were arranged in a circle, four slaves each holding up the three figures sat upon them.

The speaker was a golden haired man with proud Valyrian features, like the rest of them, sat cross legged upon silken pillows and cloth of gold.

The other's nodded, silver and silver-blonde respective.

“Yes, the Temple holds much power over the inhabitants of the city, if they seek to enforce change, they can if we do not act to stop them.”

Taemys tilted his head up at this point, not to the conversation but to the casually raised fingers of his master.

Solid gold carafe in hand, he walked forth, head bowed, before refilling his master’s crystal wineglass with the ease of a lifetime’s practice, not a single drop going where it wasn't needed.

With that done, he backed up again, stood perfectly in line with both the other personal house slaves of the Triarchs.

The heavy political discussion they engaged in washed through on ear and out the other, he knew better than to let himself react in any manner not needed.

He was a slave raised from birth to serve those of high station. From his copper skin to silver-grey hair and pink eyes, he’s been bred to exactly his master’s preference.

So he took a subdued pride in being an excellent servant. He continued to fill his master’s cups when needed, and later his master may slake his lusts on him or the dozens of other slaves of all races, sex, and class as he was meant to.

And when he wasn’t to be noticed, he was still as a statue, awaiting his master’s whims.

One thing made his eye twitch though, the tiniest reaction, unnoticeable even by his master, but nevertheless an amazing show for all his years of servitude.

“The dragon will be an issue if we allow it to be grown, I shall begin having my contacts search for methods that can be effective against them.”

The muffled sounds of approval were ignored by Taemys like they had been before.

A Dragon?

He thought back, far to when he was just a small child, listening to older slaves tell tall tales and ancient stories to pass the time.

He remembered the awe and wonder he felt when listening to tales of old Valyria that were so common among his home, he remembered hoping to on day be able to cast his eyes upon such a creature, powerful enough to melt castles and large enough to lift an elephant off the ground.

He regained his composure, as much as it was lost, quickly, but he felt a strange feeling in his chest all the same.

Truly, wonders still exist.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Unknown

-

In a darkened room, a man worked his fingers around the tip of a strange device, muttered words tinged with frustration echoing through the room.

He sat stewing for hours, much like he had many other times over the course of his life.

So when a small flame appeared on top of dark glass, the man froze with complete and utter shock… then slowly, blue lips pulled into a manic grin.

o-o-o-o—o-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-o

A/N – Bit short, but I wanted a sort of interlude chapter to just show everybody’s reactions to what’s happening.
Also, just finished writing a basic outline/notes for how the rest of the story will go, subject to change as needed, but I know that it’s existence will comfort some who think this story wont ever finish, a constant worry with these.

 

Into the Fire – Daenerys GOT ASOIAF SI

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o—o

I’ve spent most of a year now living in the temple.

Slaves tended to my every need (my unspoken opinion on that was to remain unspoken for a while yet) and I was learning more and more about the geopolitical situation every lesson I had.

I was even starting to learn the fire magics of the Red Priests, among many others who were rediscovering it themselves, amazement was not hard to find amongst people who could barely summon sparks before, even from those who were already powerful suddenly finding themselves able to produce great swaths of flame, so much so that rumor were already beginning to spread.

Currently I was sat with my juvenile dragon during a lesson from one of those self-same fire spewers, a surprisingly bland looking man named Bor, clad in simple red robes yet as he sat before me lotus style a roaring fire was held in his hands.

In fact, he was struggling from just how much fire there was.

Crying out, he splayed his hands apart and frantically tried to dissipate the flames, and without him trying to keep them going they found no fuel to feed them and they faded.

“Are you alright?” I asked, slightly concerned.

He waved a reddened hand, a small line of blood flowing from where he’d cut it beforehand.

“I’ll be fine, it’s not the worst I've had.” He said, even while nursing his hands close to his chest with a twitching mouth.

“It’s not just the outwards magics that have grown powerful Blessed, even the many poultices we have knowledge of have been found to be somewhat more effective than before. With some adjustment, we are able to treat such minor burns easily enough.”

Bor leaned back, then grinned at me.

“As we near the end of your theoretical study I am very excited to see how the fires settle into you my lady, you need not fear the flame, no matter how hot or how fierce.” He seemed to get a distant look in his eyes, and I sighed.

“Go get yourself treated Bor, I’m needing to go to the meeting soon anyway.”

He blinked, before looking out the clear window of the study we were sat in, noting the sun’s position.

“Ah, suppose that is true. Go on then, leave this old man to his own follies.”

I giggled a bit, he’s not nearly old enough to be saying such things.

Padding across the temple grounds, I noted the scrabbling sounds of Ash as she followed me along the halls.

I glanced over her. She was slightly long than a man is tall now, with wings capable of hour long flights. Not nearly ride-able yet.

From whatever dragonlore I had managed to obtain access to, if Ash had been given as much food and freedom as possible she’s be about twice her size by now.

But, as much as I may want to be able to ride a freakin’ dragon as soon as possible, I'd been taking extra care to make sure she was bonded to me, and would obey my every command.

She was certainly fond of me at least.

Still, if I wanted to be absolutely sure, I'd need to gain access to more dragon lore…. And the old blood of Volantis weren't being cooperative on that front.

I sighed, before looking to my other companion.

Orys was one of the Temple’s thousand slave soldiers (never more, never less) called the Fiery Hand. Flames were tattooed heavily across every inch of his body that was shown, even then most of it was covered with high quality lamellar armor.

Looking over him, he seemed to resemble a Chinese heavy infantry unit more than what I'd expect from ASOIAF, but what few sellswords I’ve seen in this life did seem to have a wide variety of armor types, as long as they were covered in metal most
seemed happy, though full plate was only for the richest of them.

Underneath the armor was red cloth, with the strings holding everything together similarly dyed.

He wielded a bronze plated wooden round shield, which would normally have the fiery hand symbol imprinted on it with red paint, but instead he had the red three headed dragon of my house on it it showcase his status as my bodyguard.

Finally, a shortsword at his waist and a spear with a flame styled spearhead rested on his shoulder.

Orys was loyal enough, he’d already kept me safe from lone attackers and such, yet he was very unimaginative and didn't talk much.

Also, he wasn't my only bodyguard, just my only permanent one who would accompany me at all times, and other Hands would be added as needed.

Turning away from my observations, I finally entered the council chambers.

The Temple of the Lord of Light in Volantis had a large council devoted to the management of the Faith’s resources throughout Volantis and a few other “towns” (Two of them being larger than King’s Landing, that was a ridiculous name for them) in Volantis’ control, though not all of them. From what I've come to understand, the Faith wasn't a truly international organization.

Instead it was more like a sort of confederacy, all bound by their faith in their god, yet at the same time different Sects could have very differing opinions on certain practices or how they interpreted the will of R'hllor.

There was also the Great Council, which was held and hosted by the Volantene Temple, yet supposedly all Great Temples were equal there, which in reality the true power was held by the Temples with the most wealth and followers under their control.

Notably, the temple in Asshai, while powerful enough, was barely equal to Braavos’ Temple, which said a lot about the state of that temple.

Anyway, I'm getting distracted.

Benerro stood up at my entering the chamber, alongside everybody else in the room. Over the course of the year me and Benerro had been working hard to establish myself as at least a figurehead for the temple, and it was working well.

But the proceedings of this meeting would thoroughly establish my power in the faith.

Ash mewled from beside me as I settled into a seat next to Benerro, and the meeting began.

“So, about our plans, they are coming close yes?” Asked Benerro to an armored figure across the table.

The man stood up and nodded, he was Vaenos, commander of the Fiery Hand.

“Yes, the Hand is prepared to act at any time.” Benerro nodded, and turned to me.

“And you are sure you do not want to wait?” He asked, looking to Ash.

I sighed and brought a finger down to scratch her chin.

“It will be a few years yet for her to be capable of battle, but the sooner we do this, the better. I have many plans that require time with resources to bring to fruition.”

He closed his eyes and nodded, then turned to everybody else with a grin.

“All right then, then we shall begin in a week’s time.”

“We shall set a flame so powerful nothing will stand in it’s way.”

o-o-o-o-o-o—o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Taemys

-

“Master, the council will convene in another hour.” Taemys said, making his master sigh before gesturing his hand towards his companion.

“Oh the call of station, I shall have to continue our discussion later Gaema, duty never ends.”

The silver haired Old Blood nodded and got up from her cushion, taking one last grape before walking away.

Taemys’ Master looked to him.

“Before I forget, have a bath prepared for after the meeting.”

Then with a tap on the palanquin he sat in, he was carried out of the elaborate tea-house the master enjoyed spending his off time in.

Taemys followed until his master was brought before an elephant outside, decorated elaborately with golden filigree and silken banners all over, the beast performed as the Triarchs’ standard mode of transportation outside of buildings.

Many of them complained quietly about the rule that a Triarch cannot touch the ground for their entire tenure in office, but this was one of the few things that they always loved, to parade through the city with everybody giving their respects as they passed.

Taemys himself grabbed a reigns of a fine red horse that he had been assigned long ago. He could just about keep up with his master without one, but it would be unseemly for a house slave like him to work up such a sweat.

It was halfway through their commute that several riders came riding in like ghosts were chasing them.

“Grand Triarch! Hurry, we must get you to safety!”

His master leaned out of his mahogany elephant house with a raised brow.

“What? Surely you haven't let a riot break out?”

A riot in Volantis? The guards were far to professional to let such a thing happen during such a long stretch of peace.

“No, there is an army marching on the eastern wall!”

o-o---o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Observing from a tall tower within the Black Walls, Taemys watched as three separate formations slowed down their march.

He wasn't much of an expert on anything military, but even he could see that each wore vastly differing arms and armor.

He made a guess that they were three separate forces, sellswords?

In front of each army rose a figure dressed in fine metal armor on a horse.

His master snorted.

“Sellswords of course, Mayhaps Myr or Lys are making a play, we haven't had much aggression from either in a while.”

Another looked up, the silver haired Triarch.

“How did they manage to cross the Rhoyne without our knowing? Surely one of the patrols would have noticed, and neither city has attempted invading from such an ambitious angle, we should probably look to see if this is simply a distraction from the western territories.”

His Master grunted.

“It doesn't matter either way, those sellswords will be endangering the eastern farms, we’ll be seen as weak if we allow them to burn and pillage just the same as if we let Dothraki do so.”

He grinned and gestured to an armored figure in the room, Rhaegal, grand commander of the armies of Volantis and a prominent member of the Tiger party.

“Rhaegal, be a good dear and get rid of them, though I admit I'm curious how you’ll do so.”

Rhaegal bowed his head.

“The solution is simple Triarch, a Bombardment with our scorpions before we sally out and destroy them. They are sellswords, no need to parlay with them.”

His master nodded.

“Then it will be so.”

Before his all could get to their duties, something caught Taemys’ eye.

Tilting his head to look out from the balcony, he spotted that several towers throughout the city had smoke coming from them.

It was only once he’d noticed how thick and black it was that his eyes widened.

“Fire!” He said urgently, pointing them out.

Rhaegal immediately cursed and rushed out the room, shouting at his men and his master growled.

“Damnit! Get me somewhere the smoke cannot get me.”

Hurriedly the palanquin slaves began rushing deeper into the stone palace, they should be relatively safe, wooden buildings aren't uncommon, but most of Volantis was built of stone especially in the eastern city, so as long as the army could get to work controlling the fires they should be easy enough to deal with.

Of course, the army at the gates wasn't going to help anything.

Taemys spotted a group of soldiers up ahead in full armor coming to meet them, elite warriors charged with guarding important officials, they wore full lamellar armor with luxurious tiger pelts hung over a shoulder and strapped in tight with their belts.

They specialized in the sword and had a large round shield in the other hand. The twenty man group made it obvious they were here to replace the guards they currently had, no risk could come to the Triarchs.

“My Triarch, hurry, there are riots in the streets!

His master cried outward.

“What!?! how are all these things happening at-” He paused, before growling under his breath.

“Of course, I should have noticed at the fires. There is a coup! Treason!”

The soldiers tensed, before quickly circled the Triarch and assumed formation.

Taemys himself drew his dirk to aid the soldiers if it came to it, none would touch his master.

“There is a defensible room this way Triarch.”

His master nodded.

The sounds of marching feet soon was the only thing that was heard.

Taemys kept a weary eye out, he had a duty to uphold.

Then as they were turning a corner, all came to a stumbling stop, the slaves holding the palanquin almost slamming into the soldiers from behind.

In front of them stood a small group of similarly armored soldiers with red cloth, bronze covered shields and flame styled spears.

Taemys paled, they were the Fiery Hand.

And the there could be only one reason they were here.

Their spears lowered from their block of 25 solders, five men abreast and five deep, forming an impassable barricade down the hall.

One spoke up.

“Surrender now and you will live.”

His master straitened.

“Lower beings shall never rule this city! Attack!”

The honor guard, who twice outnumbered the religious soldiers, raised their swords and charged.

The close quarters and the prepared ranks of the Hand soldiers cut a bloody swath from the honor guard, but the heavy armor both wore allowed the Volantene soldiers to close in, many losing their shields, and begin stabbing at the red soldiers.

The fight turned into a bloody melee, and Taemys grit his teeth.

“Master, we should retreat.”

His master shook his head.

“If we leave I'm defenseless, for better or worse...”

With a cry, the Fiery Hand were cut down to the last man, most hadn't been able to draw their short-swords in time to effectively fight back in the mess of wooden shafts and relative experts in swordplay.

Unfortunately, only 13 soldiers were left, 5 of those wounded.

The captain of the master’s guard was also dead, so his lieutenant was forced to pick his sword up and point passed the bodies.

“The room is still this way, let’s go.” He said, voice now gruff and weary.

After toeing their way past the bloody corpses, they continued on their way.

Taemys continued to look behind him with worry.

o-o-oo-o-o-o—o-o--o-o-o-o-o-

Bor

-

Bor giggled to himself, just a little, not enough to alert anybody.

Dressed in stolen armor, he was distinctly uncomfortable, but even so his spirits were high.

Stretching a hand up high close to the support beams of the guard tower, he pressed a knife lightly into his hand, blood slowly trickling out.

Then with a muttered prayer and a flexing of will, his blood burst into a great conflagration, the floor above him quickly catching the flames to spread.

Quickly leaving the building, he cried and roared for everybody to run, screaming at anybody who would hear that the arsonists had run off towards the palace.

After his task was done, he found a good spot to watch the flames spread and giggle to himself again.

This, this was true ecstasy.

Truly, Daenerys was a gift from R’hllor, she had granted him the ability to burn and burn and burn!!!

He coughed, stifling his euphoria to focus on his next task.

Walking away from his spot, he grinned at the sight of all those wonderfully burnable buildings upon the Long Bridge.

It wasn't in the Plan, but the Blessed had a very noticeable love for architecture.

Surely she would love the chance to build something new from the ashes? What a lovely gift.

He giggled again under his breath as he made his way over.

A truly lovely gift for his queen.

o-o—o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A/N – And so it begins.
As it where, I’m not too sure about the pacing, does this seem rushed?

 

Into the Fire – Daenerys GOT ASOIAF SI

o-o—o-o-o---o-o-o-o-o-o-

The city was chaos.

Soldiers all over the city fought each other in small skirmishes, red hand versus tiger pelt, many city guardsmen burning in their beds as the watchtowers that were spread throughout the city as barracks and nexuses for city patrols burst into flame.

With the bulk of the army at the walls to ensure no assaults could succeed from the sellsword armies, the Fiery Hand actually had a chance to fight against the typically lightly armed and armored city guard and even the army itself. The heavy infantry of Volantis were few in number, and whenever groups of them were spotted the Hand would march in the other direction to go fight the light infantry as much as they could.

The battle was truly decided when the long bridge burst into flame. Hundreds of freemen and slaves alike ran screaming as their livelihoods burned away. The flaming inferno that used to be the main connection between east and west this end of the Rhoyne signified the utter truth that no reinforcements would be coming for this side of the city any time soon.

Demoralized, the militia men began either surrendering to the rebels or hunkering down either on the walls or in the palaces.

From there the situation stabilized, as sellswords managed to breech the walls and establish themselves, the Fiery Hand worked to secure as much of the city as they could before the western side could rally a counter attack.

o—o-oo-o-o-o

Taemys

-

Taemys grunted as he downed a cup of water, then proceeded to raise the shortsword he’d looted from the Hand soldiers that had been killed before him.

They were now down to only 5 guards, barricaded deep in the Black Walls inside the Quorum, the meeting hall of the free landholders who would vote on issues.

It was one of the most secure building in the Black Walls, built exactly when Volantis was deemed to be built into a true city and the builders on site were still in the mindset of fortifying.

Clashes sounded from outside, and he grit his teeth as he spotted his master bite his thumb with worry, completely improper of a Triarch.

It was a sign of the severe stress he was under.

Then sudden there was a bang on the doors.

“Open up, Her divine grace the Queen demands it!”

Taemys narrowed his eyes, queen? Were they talking about Daenerys?

His master straitened as his bodyguards tensed.

Before his master could even speak, Taemys noticed something off about the guards.

Their eyes were shifting, from the door to the master, fists tight around their weapons.

It was a look he barely remembered, from a time long before during his training.

The look of disobedience.

Eyes widening, Taemys moved to rush to his master’s side before a hand forced him to the floor.

“Stay down if you know what’s good for you slave, this is for all our sakes.” Grunted the captain, before he nodded to the others who turned to the confused then horrified Triarch.

“Wait no, don't you dare!”

The Tiger guards pushed the palanquin slaves aside, the device itself sat upon gold balls to signify that technically, he was not on solid ground, and carelessly dragged him out.

As soon as his Triarch’s feet brushed the ground, Taemys closed his eyes.

They had lost.

o---o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

The eastern city had been taken.

Taemys looked out over the open plaza with hollow eyes, a thousand Fiery Hand soldiers stood there in triumph, even as others and their sellsword allies thoroughly finished securing the rest of the city, likely readying it to take the other side, which would be far easier, as even though that was was even more secure against outside threats, as soon as the debris was clear from the bridge they could easily break through whatever rough fortifications had been placed.

Even now the Fiery Hand was far larger than it’s ordained thousand number. They’d likely been building up in secret before the coup.

Even more importantly, the Triarchs were all captured. Forced to kneel before a tall wooden throne on which sat a little girl with frightening eyes and a dragon glaring down at them.

She was sat cross legged, as if there wasn't a concern in the world, but those eyes…

They looked old.

“It saddens me that it had to come to this. It saddens me that I must subject myself and others to the horrors of war as my first action as queen. It saddens me that others must suffer so that many more may prosper.” She gazed over their heads to the visible smoke plume still rising from the Long Bridge, a haunted look in her face.

“Still, all that has happened had brought us to this day, where the oligarchy that pretended to adhere to the wishes of the People shall finally come to an end.”

At that the kneeling figures raised their heads.

Daenerys stepped from her throne, walking off and showing exactly how young she was.

She lowered herself before the defeated oligarchs, resting on the balls of her feet.

“You will die, painfully and screaming. It is the price for our god that must be paid again and again. But, with your deaths, they will be free.” She grinned, a sad, but triumphant grin, her eyes blaring a message that seemed long held.

“As I rise to queendom, all those who are tortured and beat down, made to serve and waste their precious days away never knowing agency for their own actions shall all have Freedom!”

She stood up, turning to the crowds, gathered to see the execution.

“Freedom! For your sons and for your daughters, for yourselves and your wives. For all that would call me their queen. I am Daenerys Targaryen! Stormborn! Mother of Dragons and She Who Walks Through Fire!”

“But right now I am to be the Breaker of Chains! All my subjects are from now on only beholden to me and me alone, let no master ever declare you an object ever again. For from this day until the end of days, only R’hllor himself may ever own slaves again!”

Slowly, as if in disbelief, cheering rose up at her words.

All throughout the crowds, horrified freemen and women looked on as their slaves unhooked their collars and raised their arms to cheer on the usurper of the Triarchy.

Taemys just gazed calmly at those few who clutched their unlocked collars with fear, those who pleaded quietly to stay with their Masters, those who only knew the love of servitude.

The child queen turned to him, a smile on her face, which stilled at whatever look he had on his face.

Her eyes glared into his, before she turned to another of the Triarch’s house-slaves, the golden haired girl with the bright blue eyes which were wide in shock, and trembling hands.

“Now, if you wish, lift off your collar, and call me your queen.”

The girl cried, before tearing it off and screaming, “DĀRIA!”

The crowd seemed to take in the high Valyrian with a silent gasp, before they began to chant.

“Dāria!”

“Dāria!”

“Dāria! Dāria ! Dāria!”

The chants didn't stop, as word spread throughout the city, shouts of “Dāria” spread like wildfire.

From that day forward, all knew who their queen was, whether they liked it or not.

Taemys just wondered what his purpose would be now.

Oo-o-o-o-oo-o-o-o-o-o-o-oo-o-o-o-oo

A/N – light chapter, but I think it ended as well as it could have.