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Daenerys took Queensgate for her seat and wrapped herself in silver furs, even though she did not seem to feel the cold so badly as others did.
During the long nights she lay awake listening to Missandei's breathing and chattering teeth; when she did sleep she dreamt of a wall of ice cracking and shattering, and gaunt blue eyed figures with grasping claw-like hands shambling through the rubble.
These cold dreams were what had drawn her north, but tonight they gave way to images of a burning throne, Viserys screaming: I want my crown! Dany, bring me my crown! as molten gold ran down his face, and the land tore itself asunder.
And the ever-present red door, swinging open, inviting her inside.
*
"Maester Samwell," said Missandei, announcing the fat, half-trained Night's Watch maester.
Sam smiled shyly at Missandei, obviously pleased to have been greeted by the girlish scribe rather than Rakharo, who spat the word maester as though it were the worst kind of insult, or Jorah, who misliked the black brother as he misliked all men Dany took to.
And she had taken to Sam. The barely trained acolyte had travelled from Oldtown to present himself to her in Dorne. He'd been almost as terrified of her as he was of her dragons, but he was determined to tell her his tales of White Walkers beyond the Wall, and of Aemon Targaryen, a great uncle of Dany's and Sam's former teacher.
As much as she enjoyed hearing stories of her family that proved that they were not all mad or cruel, Daenerys suspected that Maester Aemon must have had a hint of the Targaryen taint to have turned down the crown when it was offered to him.
Although, if turning your back on the Iron Throne was a sign of madness, then what did that say about Dany? She had left her entire army in Dorne, where they were poised to retake the Seven Kingdoms, in order to follow dreams, and shadows, and the word of this fat boy to the frozen wasteland of the Wall.
"Your Grace--" began Sam, then yelped and nearly tripped over his own boots when Drogon - crouching still and silent in the shadows and resembling nothing so much as a stone dragon - shook out his wings and snorted thick black smoke. Sam struggled through his coughing fit, and shooting nervous glances at Drogon he continued, "Your Grace, the Lady Melisandre accompanied me, she's waiting outside to speak with you."
Dany stepped down from the high seat that wasn't quite a throne and took Sam's arm, leading him outside. "Drogon, you stay here with Missandei," she called over her shoulder.
*
The Red Priestess was waiting in the shadow of the Wall, her red robes whipping in the icy wind. She was the only one who seemed even less affected by the cold than Dany.
"Lady Melisandre," said Daenerys.
Melisandre inclined her head but didn't greet Dany by name or title. Truth be told, Dany has had more than enough of Melisandre's names for her: The Prince Who Was Promised, the Lord's chosen, born amid salt and smoke, who woke the dragons of stone.
"It will be tomorrow. I have seen it in my fires," Melisandre said. "The Great Enemy will attack the realm of the Lord of Light, White Walkers and wights will ride at his back. And unless he is defeated it will be the last day, followed only by night without end."
The Night's Watch and their allies had been prepared for the Others to come in force since before Daenerys had left Dorne, and her arrival had caused some raising of spirits; if the White Walkers feared fire and dragonsteel, what might they make of dragonfire? And yet it was Sam who asked hopefully, "Are you sure? Could you not be... mistaken?"
"R'hllor's flames never lie, boy!"
They do though, thought Dany.
"They lied when they told Victarion Greyjoy he could take my dragons from me," she said. "They lied when they told you that Stannis Baratheon was the true king."
"Tomorrow," repeated Melisandre, loud enough for both Dany and Sam to hear. Then she leaned in, her dark red fingernails digging into the silver furs Dany wore, and she whispered, "The cost of tomorrow's work will be grave for you, my queen. But know this, the cost of taking the Iron Throne would have been that much graver, for all of us."
"What did she say to you?" asked Sam, as Melisandre strode away towards the horses and escort that would return her to Castle Black.
"Nothing that I believe," said Dany.
"You should be wary of her," said Sam. "Remember what happened to King Stannis after she turned her back on him, and what happened to Jon--"
"Where is the lord commander today, Maester Samwell?" Dany asked kindly.
It was harder for Sam, she knew. By the time Daenerys had met Lord Snow Melisandre had already pulled him back from the abyss twice and there was little enough left of the boy or the lord that Sam remembered so fondly.
"...Resting," said Sam, but Dany could tell that wasn't what he'd almost said. "In one of the ice cells. He'll be there for the battle tomorrow, though."
"I don't doubt it, Sam."
*
Again, Dany dreamt of the burning throne.
And not for the first time she woke wondering what she was doing here at the end of the world? The Iron Throne sat empty, no other lord of Westeros had the strength or will to take it, she had her dragons, and faced with her children the Seven Kingdoms would have no choice but to bend the knee--
Dany answered her own question, she was here because she had dragons, because she was the only one who could be. And with that thought sleep claimed her again.
*
Daenerys found herself atop the Wall as the sun set on the short northern day. Samwell Tarly was standing next to her, carrying a longbow and acting as her guard while Jorah and Rakharo were below with Jon Snow's forces, though truthfully it was more for his safety than hers. Melisandre stood a little way away with her arms raised to the sky beseeching her Red God for aid.
It was the first time she'd scaled the Wall that Dany had realised how little she truly knew about Westeros. Dorne had been not dissimilar to parts of Essos, but the North was as different from everything Dany had ever known as the face of the moon.
The first sign of the enemy came in the form of a freezing wind that even Dany felt in her bones. The wights came first into view, some of them looked almost like men while others were little more than walking skeletons, the line of them stretched as far as she could see.
Far below Jon Snow raised his sword, and from the top of the Wall the snow and ice reflecting off the Valyrian Steel made the blade look as though it were aflame.
If Jon said anything his words were snatched away before they reached Dany and Sam. Dany looked up, Drogon was circling in the air above her, Viserion and Rhaegal were out of sight, ranged along the Wall to the east and west, but she knew all three dragons would hear her when she said: "Dracarys."
*
Daenerys knew that her dragons were gone when she felt the cold, deep and biting and shocking enough that her very bones rattled.
She had never felt the cold quite as others did. "You are fire made flesh," Melisandre had told her once, "as are your dragons."
But now the dragons were gone, the fire had vanished from her belly, and even engulfed in Samwell's cloak - so oversized that it wrapped around her three full times and pulled up over her head - Dany shivered.
"I need to see," she said.
They led her through the tunnel under the Wall; men were dead, and wights had fallen, bodies that would soon be buried by the steadily falling snow, but of Drogon there was nothing left but black ash and bone.
Dany walked up to a ribcage taller than she was, she wrapped her hands around the ribs and pressed her forehead against the bone. "Fire made flesh," she whispered.
A high-pitched moan of dismay pulled Dany out of her grief-stricken reverie. It was Sam, standing over the body of a fallen brother. She recognised him firstly by his sword, it was the lord commander, Jon Snow.
Daenerys and Melisandre reached the body at the same time. The priestess reached out, and Dany realised what she was about to do. So did Sam, who said, "No, please," and shot a pleading look first at Melisandre, then at Daenerys.
Dany caught the priestess's wrist, her skin didn't seem nearly so hot as it had on the previous occasions where Dany had cause to touch her, she said, "Leave him be, he's done enough."
She was suddenly painfully aware that she had no dragons, no queensguard or bloodriders, no way to enforce her commands. Fortunately Melisandre stepped back and conceded, "As you wish."
*
She was back in the tunnel under the Wall when her shivers turned violent, her vision blurry, and her legs were no longer able to support her.
She knew nothing until she woke by a fire, covered in layers upon layers of furs. She could only make out snippets of the conversation going on around her.
"...The cold... the shock..." that was Samwell, they must have carried her to the maester's rooms.
"...More than that, those dragons... she had a connection to them... might have died when they did." Dany recognised Ser Jorah's voice, too.
"Perhaps the Lady Melisandre...?" Sam again.
"You will not bring that witch to the khaleesi!" And that was Rakharo. Both of her warriors had survived the battle, Dany thought with relief.
"Quiet, all of you. You'll wake her," and that was Missandei, they must have sent for her from Queensgate.
Comforted by the knowledge that her people - those who were left to her at least - were safe and well Daenerys let unconsciousness claim her.
*
She dreamt of the burning throne, the house with the red door. Viserys as a little boy running around a garden joyfully shouting: "I am king! I am king!" then his screams turned to ones of bitterness and rage and agony as Drogo's crown burned the life from him.
*
She woke briefly to find Ser Jorah keeping watch over her. An angry red scar now bisected the slaver's brand on his cheek.
"Aegon the Conqueror had dragons."
"Yes, he did."
"I don't."
"No, you do not," said Jorah, sadly but bluntly.
*
She woke once to find Missandei bathing her forehead with a cool cloth, another time to find Rakharo fashioning bells for his hair, and for hers.
*
She dreamt of Essos; of Quaithe, who told her that to go forward she must go back, and then turned into Melisandre.
"I am besieged by Asshai'i priestesses," Daenerys said, and didn't realise she was partially awake until Melisandre replied, "I have been called many things, but never a one woman siege before now."
Dany struggled to sit up. "You knew what would happen to my dragons."
"So did you," Melisandre replied. "You are not so foolish as to believe that the Lord of Light granted you three dragons just to enable you to sit upon an iron chair that would only make you bleed and drive you mad, I don't think."
"The Iron Throne is mine," said Dany, sounding to her own ears like no one so much as Viserys.
"Do as you please," said Melisandre, smoothing her red robes down over her knees and rising from her seat. "I came only to say farewell."
"You're leaving Westeros?"
"I've done everything I came here to do. As have you, whether you wish to admit it or not."
*
"Have you studied the history of House Targaryen?" asked Dany when she was feeling well enough to sit up by the fire and eat soup under the watchful gaze of Maester Samwell.
"Of all the great houses, at the Citadel, and before that at my mother's knee."
"I was wondering--" Dany had endless questions about her family, the most pressing of which was whether Aegon and his sisters could have taken the Seven Kingdoms without their dragons? And should they have taken them at all? "I was wondering, did anyone ever ask if the Targaryens were prone to madness before they forged the Iron Throne?"
*
It was Missandei who found the eggs, shortly after they returned to Queensgate.
"Send a raven to Maester Samwell," Dany told her. "Ask him to come at once."
*
"Dragon eggs," said Sam, his voice full of awe. He reached out but stopped just short of touching any of the eggs. "But, um, I thought your dragons were boy-dragons?"
"I don't think it's that simple where dragons are concerned," said Dany, and muttered, "the prince who was promised," under her breath.
"What are you going to do?" Sam asked.
Daenerys had been thinking on that since Missandei had shown her the eggs. She might hatch them here at the end of the world, and stay until they had grown enough that she could return to Sunspear as she'd left it, a queen and a conqueror on dragonback. She could take a ship from Eastwatch to Dorne and consolidate her power there; she could spend the years waiting for the hatchlings to mature in making alliances and learning about Westeros.
"I hear that you're leaving us," Dany said instead, not answering his question.
"Not forever," insisted Sam. "I'm not breaking my vows. But I have to take Jon's bones back to Winterfell. I have to see him buried with his family. I have to tell Arya and Rickon that he was a hero, whatever tales they might hear."
"I want you to take this," Dany held a dragon egg out to him.
"Your Grace--"
"I'm not your queen anymore, Sam. I want you to take the egg and bury it as far down as Winterfell's crypts go."
"I--Yes, I think I understand. But what will you do?"
"Maybe I'll go south to go north, and east to go west."
"Your-- My lady, I don't know what that means."
"Don't worry, Sam, I never entirely worked it out myself."
"You could always stay here?"
"And do what, style myself as the Night's Queen? Or Lady Commander of the Night's Watch?"
"Well, we do let girls in nowadays," Sam said.
Daenerys laughed at that. She was going to miss him, she thought.
*
After Sam departed Dany had Missandei fetch in Rakharo.
"I have a task for you. I wish you to take a ship from Eastwatch to Sunspear and deliver a message to Princess Arianne." Rakharo's face twisted in distaste, he'd sailed on an Ironborn ship from Meereen to Dorne, and truly he'd looked happier riding a dragon. "You are to tell her that those of my people who wish to remain in Dorne should be made comfortable and welcome, those who want to depart should be aided in their return to Essos."
"You think she will do this?"
"I can pay her." Daenerys held out a dragon egg, already partly petrified it would soon appear as though it had been hatched hundreds of years ago. "Tell her she can declare herself the Queen of Dorne, she can even keep my false nephew as a paramour if that's what she wishes, as long as she does what I ask."
"You are not coming back?"
"I am not coming back, no."
"I will not leave you."
"I saw Irri just before we left, her belly was already beginning to swell." The boldest of Dany's bloodriders gave her a look of mixed pride and bashfulness. "Go home, Rakharo. Go home and give Irri a khalasar full of children, and name one of the girls for me."
"Khaleesi--"
"I'm not a khaleesi, not anymore."
"But you are still blood of my blood," said Rakharo, taking the egg from her grasp with surprising gentleness. "I will not fail you in this."
*
After Rakharo came Jorah. She told him that she had sent the first two eggs away with Samwell and Rakharo, but not where she'd sent them, although it would not be hard to guess if he truly wished to know.
"Where do you wish me to take this one?"
"I do not want to know. Knowing where all of the eggs were, and that I might eventually hatch them... The temptation would be too great, do you understand?"
"I believe so. I will see that it is hidden, and secret, and safe."
"Thank you."
"When I return--"
"I will be gone," Dany answered.
"Daenerys!" Jorah desperately clasped one of Dany's hands between both of his.
"Ser." Dany extracted her hand. "Ser, you travelled to the Wall and faced down the walking dead to prove your loyalty and your honour, do not give me cause to doubt it again."
"No." Ser Jorah stood, stowed the dragon egg, and bowed stiffly. "Never again. When I have completed this last task for you, I will take the black and honour my father's memory by carrying on his work."
"Ser Jorah--" part of Dany wished to tell her bear to seek her out one day, but deep down she knew that what he wanted of her and her inability to give it to him would always come between them, so all she could say was "--the Night's Watch never had a finer recruit."
*
"This one noticed," said Missandei, "that you allowed them all to think that there were only three eggs."
"A man once told me that with just one dragon egg I might live in the free cities as a wealthy woman until the end of my days."
"We are going to the free cities?"
"You are not a slave, I do not command you to come with me. You might still accompany Rakharo to Dorne and on to Essos, or I could ask Samwell to find you a place in Westeros."
"This one-- I-- I wish to stay with you."
Daenerys had only been able to bring three of her people with her to the Wall, those who would not be parted from her. The fiercest of her bloodriders, and her bear, desperate to prove his loyalty, she understood. But Missandei, she had only ever led the freed slave to grief and plague and this deathly, deathly cold. Now she hoped to be able to lead the girl to something better.
"In that case," she said, "let us go and seek a house with a red door."