As the wedding drew nearer, Daenerys grew more and more anxious, and hardly slept through a single night.
These days, Illyrio’s estate was full of people bustling over wedding preparations from morning to night.
Weavers, handmaids, and servants hauling crates moved in and out constantly, the whole estate turned over to preparing for the wedding.
They talked endlessly of gifts, and of every last detail of the ceremony.
It wasn’t that Daenerys hadn’t thought of running.
But she couldn’t even leave her own room now.
Watchers surrounded her on every side.
And her brother Viserys would never allow her to flee.
These days he spent all his time huddled with Illyrio, working out how to get the Dothraki across to Westeros.
Whenever he spoke of the throne, his eyes would light up, as though the Iron Throne were already beneath him.
Every time Daenerys saw him now, she found herself shrinking away without meaning to, terrified of saying the wrong thing and setting off his temper.
Thinking of this, Jon’s image rose unbidden in her mind.
“Jon. If you’re really coming for me… come quickly.”
Daenerys murmured it softly, sitting on her bed.
She didn’t know if he would come at all, or when, or whether he was only something she’d imagined.
These past few days, she kept finding herself drawn outside, glancing up at the sky again and again, hoping to see Jon appear astride Frostflame.
Three days later, at midday.
Illyrio was hosting a feast in the garden for a handful of wealthy merchants, the table laid with fruit, honeycakes, cheese, olives, and spiced wine.
The merchants held their cups, smiling broadly.
“Your Grace, with the Dothraki behind you, reclaiming the Iron Throne is only a matter of time now.”
one of the merchants said, raising his cup with a smile.
“When I take the Iron Throne, none of you here will go without your reward!”
Viserys sat beside Illyrio, his face flushed with drink.
He drained his cup in one go and burst into loud laughter.
Jorah Mormont stood not far from Daenerys, his eyes sweeping the surroundings now and then, guarding her with quiet care.
Just then, a commotion suddenly rose from beyond the estate walls.
“What’s happening?”
Someone pushed open a window and looked out.
A scream rang out from the street right after.
More cries soon followed from further off, and the crowds in the street began to stir.
A low, rumbling sound rolled faintly through the sky.
It drew nearer by the moment, until the windowpanes trembled faintly with it.
Everyone, without meaning to, lifted their heads at once.
“What in the world—”
Viserys’s brow furrowed.
A servant came stumbling into the garden, his face ashen, nearly falling to his knees.
“Something— something’s coming through the sky!”
The words had barely left him when the screaming outside surged louder.
The next moment, the clouds in the distance tore open, and the white shape swept swiftly across the sky above the city, its huge shadow sliding over the streets below.
Daenerys ran out of the hall and looked up, hardly able to believe her own eyes.
The people in the streets, seeing it, screamed and scattered in every direction.
Horses reared and screamed, guards drew their weapons, and the once-quiet streets fell instantly into chaos.
Bells suddenly rang out along the city walls.
One toll.
Two.
The urgent ringing soon carried across the whole of Pentos.
The guards had no idea what it was.
They knew only that the thing in the sky was larger than any elephant.
A few old men had already dropped to their knees in the street, murmuring legends that had been handed down for a hundred years.
“Screeee—!”
A deafening roar tore suddenly through the high sky.
The sound drowned out the whole city’s noise, and windows rattled along every street.
Some clapped their hands over their ears and crouched down; others turned and ran.
The great white shape swept over Pentos once more.
This time, Daenerys finally saw it clearly, and her heart began to pound violently.
That familiar shape nearly stole the breath from her.
Frostflame.
She could make out the white scales clearly now, and the pair of violet, slitted eyes flickering in and out of view among the clouds.
Exactly as she’d seen in the dream.
Daenerys stared up at the sky, stunned.
“He’s really come…”
she murmured, not even noticing the faint tremor in her own voice.
Viserys, seeing the dragon in the sky, was already shaking with excitement.
“A dragon… it’s a dragon. Our dragon. House Targaryen’s dragon has come back.”
He seized his sister by the shoulders, babbling, “Did you see it? Dany! The dragon’s come back!” New chapters come out on g.com first.
“Come— come quickly, we have to go find my dragon.”
But Daenerys wasn’t listening to a word of it, and the people nearby paid his ravings no mind either.
She only watched the white dragon circle the city again and again, before finally turning north toward the hills and landing on a low rise beyond the walls.
Jorah Mormont, watching the white dragon, had plainly recognized it for what it was, and stood rooted in place, saying nothing for a long while.
“Follow it, Jorah.”
But he stood where he was, cautioning her: “Your Grace, no! That’s a dragon— it’s far too dangerous.”
Daenerys gazed at the dragon on the distant hill and murmured, “They’ve come for me.”
Ignoring Jorah’s protest, she seized a riderless horse in the confusion and rode hard for the hills beyond the city walls, without a moment’s hesitation.
She was certain of it.
That dragon was Frostflame.
Jorah watched her ride off, his expression shifting through several changes, before he finally swung up onto his own horse and rode after her.
Daenerys’s horse ran freely enough at first, but the nearer it drew to the hill, the slower it grew.
A faint smell of sulfur hung in the air, and the horse tossed its head uneasily, steam pouring from its nostrils, its hooves growing more and more reluctant.
In the distance, Frostflame lay among the rocks, watching calmly in their direction.
The horse finally stopped altogether, whinnying without pause, and would not go a step further no matter how hard she urged it.
With no other choice, Daenerys dismounted at once, let go of the reins, and patted its neck.
“Go on home.”
Pentos had shut its gates by now, and the walls were crowded with people, all watching the girl below, their breath coming fast.
On the hillside, Jon, still mounted on Frostflame’s back, had already seen her.
She was walking quickly toward them now.
Jon didn’t hesitate.
He patted the great dragon and told her he meant to climb down.
Frostflame lowered herself, and Jon leapt down from her back, his black cloak snapping in the wind, the hilt of Longclaw at his hip catching a cold gleam of light.
The dragon’s violet, slitted eyes watched Daenerys quietly as she approached.
She lowered her head, her nostrils flaring gently.
The next moment, a low sound rumbled from deep in her throat.
Hearing that familiar sound, Daenerys felt her eyes sting with sudden heat.
The distance between them kept closing.
Until at last, Daenerys stopped before Jon.
She opened her mouth, only to find she didn’t know what to say.
All their talks before this had happened only in dreams.
Now, seeing him for real, the words wouldn’t come.
“Dany.”
“I’ve come for you.”