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Walking briskly through the crowded streets of Qarth, Daenerys Targaryen seethed in barely controlled rage as she marched away from the Hall of a Thousand Thrones with her head held high. The hall was…ostentatious, to say the least. Each of the so-called 'Pureborns' had their own throne which lined the hall. And each throne was richly decorated with gold, precious jewels, and anything else of value. Almost as if each member of the Pureborn were trying to show the others who had the most wealth.
After nearly a full moon's turn worth of waiting, the Pureborns were finally willing to listen to Dany make her offer of alliance for the Empire she wished to build. And how did they respond? They laughed at her! Her! One even went so far as to call her a 'Beggar Whore-Queen just like her Beggar-King brother'. They said that Qarth had not been part of the Valyrian Freehold, and that they would not join with her 'foolish' idea of bringing the Valyrian Empire back to power in Essos. It was infuriating! And humiliating! Then when asked where her dragon was, she calmly explained that her child was with one of her servants and her son, and when she said that she was promptly dismissed from their presence! That was when she realized why she'd even been allowed an audience with them in the first place. They didn't care about her, or about her aspirations or the change she wanted to bring about. They only wanted to see her dragon. She and her children were an oddity. A curiosity to be gazed upon and admired like an exotic bird in a cage. And that was it!
It was…humiliating! And infuriating! Two things which she had not felt in a long, long time. Since well before her marriage to Drogo! And it was a stark reminder of just where she was in terms of her goals of bringing Valyria back to life.
"I would ask for your forgiveness, Khaleesi Daenerys, for the way that the Pureborns acted today. However, such words would be meaningless as you have now seen those who 'rule' Qarth for what they truly are," Xaro said lowly next to her, his voice such that only the two of them could hear them amongst the crowded street.
"Petty. Egotistical. Greedy," she said, listing off everything she thought of the so-called 'rulers' of the greatest city that ever was or ever will be.
Xaro didn't take offense. He merely nodded. "Indeed. Though I would also add unimaginative and stagnate to your description of the Pureborn. They have their lives. Their gold and finery. They are comfortable. Why should they wish for things to change when they are perfectly fine as they are?"
"All things move forward. They change. Adapt. Grow." Dany replied in exasperation. "Those who refuse to do so grow complacent. Weak. And die."
Xaro merely nodded, a slight smile appearing under his jewel encrusted nose. "Indeed, Khaleesi Daenerys."
Feeling only slightly better knowing that at least her host agreed with her, Dany picked up the pace slightly as she was eager to return to her son and daughter, who were being watched over by Doreah. During her meeting with the Pureborn she had felt…something…a…disturbance. But at the time she had been focused on trying to win the Pureborns over, a fool's errand she now realized. But now that she was away from those fools the…disturbance was back. And she knew that something was…wrong. She just didn't know what it was.
As they drew closer to Xaro's manse, the intensity of the feeling of…something wrong grew with Dany. Unknowingly, she increased her pace, leaving a confused Xaro to quicken his own pace to keep up. Her host tried to call out to her, to ask her what was wrong. But his words fell on deaf ears as the unease grew within Dany to such a level that she felt physically sick, and she picked up her pace even further to where she had to lift her silk dress to run, her exposed breast swaying and knocking lose several of the jewels that adorned her front. Everything passed her by in a blur. Her focus was solely on getting back to the manse and her children as quickly as possible.
Reaching the manse, she vaguely recognized that a few of her own Khalasar, along with several guards and Unsullied that were owned by Xaro, were standing outside and arguing with one another. But she paid none of them any mind as she forced her way past the guards and her own people and into the manse. Ignoring the voices calling out to her, Dany ran as fast as her feet could carry her up the stairs and towards the chambers that'd been given to her and her children for their stay. Shouldering the doors open, the feel of dread slammed into Dany like a maul to the gut, doubling her over and dropping her to her knees as she saw just what awaited her within.
Several guards and one of her Khalasar were standing within the room. Surrounding Doreah. Her faithful handmaiden. Whose throat was slit and had a hole in her chest. Her beautiful dress. Her skin. Her fair hair. All soaked with blood. Her blood.
Forcing herself forward, she pushed off the hands that were trying to hold her, whether to support her or to block her from seeing, she didn't care. She didn't need them. Didn't want them. Arriving next to her first handmaiden, and first true friend besides Jon, Dany reached out with a shaking hand and gently caressed her friend's face. "My…My son…My daughter?" Her voice was coarse, laden with sorrow to the point where she barely even recognized that it was her who'd spoken.
"…They…They are…gone, Khaleesi."
Her dress swayed violently as Dany's rage overtook her. Cries of alarm and pleas for mercy went unanswered as Dany lashed out at anything and everything she could see as the servants, guards, and her own people ran over each other in their haste to get out of the room and out of her sight.
The crib her son and daughter shared smashed against the wall. The feather mattress and wood shattering into a shower of splinters and feathers only to be swept in the current of Dany's anger. Her own bed rose off the ground and snaped like a twig beneath her power. The precious dresses given to her torn asunder. All around the room the few possessions she owned or were gifted with become nothing more than fragments of what they once were before being swept along in the rolling maelstrom that was forming within the room. Only Dany and Doreah. Her sweet, faithful, beautiful friend remained untouched by the destruction.
Without warning, everything in the room ceased moving and crashed to the ground. "Master Xaro Xhoan Daxos," Dany called out, her voice like iron, no…like molten Valyrian steel.
The doors to her chambers slowly opened as she sensed the merchant prince slowly enter the room, his fear of her merely adding oil to the inferno of power within her. It was…strange. She was angry. No, furious. Far more furious than she had ever been in her entire life. Yet she felt…calm. Almost as if her anger, her fury, was such that it had moved beyond the just normal anger and into the realm of calm.
"Khaleesi Daenerys," Xaro called out to her, the man trying to keep his fear from showing in his voice but failing to do so.
"I apologize for the destruction I have caused," she said, her eyes not leaving Doreah.
That was clearly not what the man was expecting. "I – Think nothing of it, Khaleesi. Your anger is justified. I have sent word that every servant, every guard, everyone who was in the manse while this travesty took place is to be put to the question. We will learn who took your children soon enough."
"There is no need for such violent and ineffective means."
Xaro jumped, and even Dany turned despite her calm at the unexpected voice that'd joined them. Standing just out on the balcony, red mask firmly in place, was the Red Priestess Quaithe. 'How did she get so close without my noticing? Was I that blinded by my anger? No. No I can sense Xaro, Ser Jorah, my bloodriders, Irri, Jhiqui and everyone else standing just outside the room…but her? I – I cannot sense anything from her. It's as if she…she isn't even here.'
"Priestess Quaithe," Dany greeted the woman, her surprise and suspicion of not being able to sense the woman fading as her anger once against brought her to a state of calm. "Where are my children?"
The Priestess didn't walk, so much as she almost flowed into the room. Raising a hand, the Priestess pointed a single finger towards Doreah. "Your handmaiden left you a final message with her last breath."
Frowning, Dany returned her attention to her fallen friend. Her eyes went over every part of her body looking for something, anything, that Doreah might've left her. Just as she was about to demand answers from Quaithe, she saw it. Her left arm had two small markings of blood on the underside of her arm, well away from where any blood from her wounds should have been able to reach. Lifting her arm, she realized what Doreah had left her. Two letters were drawn on her skin with blood. "P. Y." Dany said, recognizing the letters.
Setting the arm down, she tried to think of what the letters could mean. A place? No. A person? Yes…Yes, that had to be it. But who? Who had she met…who had Doreah met whose name…
Like a bolt it came to her. A single name. One who both Dany and Doreah had interacted with before she had ever stepped foot in Qarth. "Pyat Pree."
Now she had a target. A goal. And nothing would stand in her way. Laying a hand on Doreah's brow, Dany thanked her friend before turning, and almost running straight into Xaro's chest. Glaring up at the merchant, Dany saw the fear in the man's eyes as he gazed at her. "Move."
Swallowing, the merchant prince tried to placate her. "Khaleesi…I – Pyat Pree is a warlock of no small renown…and the House of the Undying…None enter those halls unless invited by—"
"Pyat Pree has been sending daily messages to me all but demanding my presence at the House of the Undying," Dany said, far calmer than she felt. "Now he has taken my son, my daughter, and killed my friend. I would say that I am more than invited to enter the House of the Undying."
Xaro slowly nodded. "I would agree with you, Khaleesi. However, I must caution patience. The Undying who reside within those hallowed halls are powerful. They even have the ear and favor of the Pureborn. One cannot simply enter their domain and make demands of them. Those that have in the past are never seen again…if they are fortunate."
"But those who have come before were not one favored by the Lord of Light."
Quaithe had, once again, managed to soundlessly make her way over to Dany to the point where she was standing just outside of arm's reach. "Daenerys Targaryen has received the blessing of the Lord of Light. She carries his blessings. His fire runs through her veins. The Undying think they know her. They think they know what she is capable of. Of what the one true god is capable of. But they are wrong. And it is past time to cure them of their hubris."
Seeing that she would not be deterred, Xaro sighed. "I will call for a liter and proper escort to the House of the Undying. And while I wish you and yours well Khaleesi, I cannot go with you." Bowing once more, Xaro turned heel and made his way out of the room.
Turning towards the Red Priestess, Dany carefully observed the woman. "You know much, Priestess."
The mask hid the woman's face, but Dany could see the mirth in her eyes. "I know only as much as my Lord deems necessary, Daenerys Targaryen, daughter of Valyria and chosen of R'hllor."
Frowning, Dany kept her attention on the Priestess. "Then what has your god told you of the House of the Undying and these…warlocks?"
The Priestess gained a far off look in her eyes for the briefest of moments before refocusing on her. "This task… This journey is yours to make, Daenerys Targaryen, daughter of Valyria. While those with you have strength at arms to aid you greatly. Only you have the strength needed to pass through the House of Undying and emerge as…something more. Any to dare to traverse past the maw will find themselves lost forever."
"So…I must do this alone?" she summarized.
Quaithe just stared at her. "You are never alone, Daenerys Targaryen. And once you accept that…then none will be able to challenge you."
Another riddle. Something Dany was not particularly fond of given the current situation. "Any other advice?"
Quaithe nodded. "Trust only in yourself and your children, Daenerys Targaryen. You will find yourself confronting visions and things that are impossible to describe. Things that were. Things that are. Things that are yet to come. And things that will never come. All will be seen. Yet trust in naught but yourself, lest you lose yourself to their insatiable hunger."
Pulling his fur cloak tighter around his body, Jon ducked his head, trying to shield his face from the sudden burst of cold wind that came at him from the darkness like a thousand knives. Hearing a few laughs, Jon turned back and glared, mildly annoyed, at his Master, Ygritte, his Uncle Benjen, and the nearly two dozen Night's Watch Brothers and Free Folk hunters that made up their small group. His annoyance wasn't due to the fact that a number of the huntsmen were flirting with Ygritte, or that a number of the Brothers were eyeing her like she was a piece of meat. No, he trusted her enough to know that she would gut any of these men rather than lay with him. His annoyance stemmed from the fact that instead of sitting next to her, sharing her warmth and the warmth of the fire, he had drawn the short straw and was now on watch a dozen or so paces away from their encampment.
Hearing the slightest bit of a crunching of snow, Jon reached down without looking and scratched at the top of Ghost's head. "At least you are staying with me tonight, boy," he said, glancing back once more towards Ygritte.
As if summoned by his words, he watched Ygritte twitch slightly before the small snake like head of Archon appeared from the front of Ygritte's furs. More than a few of the Free Folk and Brother's quieted and looked slightly uneasy at Archon's sudden appearance, but Ygritte didn't even bat an eye. Which was understandable considering his little dragon had decided that Ygritte's bosom was the perfect place to sleep, something which Jon could attest to.
The reveal of Archon to his Uncle and the others had…been along the lines of what Jon had been expecting. Fear. Everyone in Westeros, even those born north of the Wall, knew of dragons. Children were raised on stories and cowed into obedience just by uttering their very existence. For centuries, they were thought extinct. Now, they were forced to meet one of the creatures of legend that helped to forge what were once seven kingdoms into a single kingdom. The reveal was softened somewhat based on just how the little bugger was introduced to the group, popping out of Ygritte's furs before shaking it's head at the cold and tucking back into her warmth.
And while Jon was still concerned with some of the looks that Archon was receiving from some of the men and women, he knew that they would bring his companion no harm. For not only would they have to deal with Jon and Ygritte, but they would also have to deal with Lord Nox's anger as well should any harm befall the little dragon. And no one, unless they were completely brain addled, wanted to purposefully anger Lord Nox.
Though once the shock of Archon's presence wore off, the first comment made by one of the Free Folk was to ask how Ygritte could stand to have such a creature next to her breasts all the time. Her reply was…well… It was one that made Jon more than slightly uncomfortable as it made light of certain…details that he felt best remained between him, Ygritte, and Arianne.
Thinking of his betrothed sent Jon's mind wandering and his senses reaching out for her. But, as always since they'd gone north, Jon's senses hit a wall, both literally and figuratively. His Master had explained that Ancient Force Magic, more than likely from Bran the Builder himself, had indeed been woven into the construction of the Wall. Thus, hence forth muted one's ability to sense across the Wall. He could still sense Arianne, but it wasn't like when he reached out for her. South of the Wall he could almost feel when she was happy or sad or angry or when she was in danger. But north of the Wall, all he could tell was that she was there. It was like looking for someone in a thick fog at night.
But even still, just being able to sense her was like a balm on his soul. She was alright, safe. Thousands of leagues away from the north and these gods' forsaken creatures they were now hunting. Though he knew that, had she the chance, she would be right beside him even out here in the cold.
Patting Ghost atop his head, Jon was just about to get up and move about, when he was nearly doubled over from a sudden distress in the Force. 'Dany!' he thought, his eyes going wide as he whipped about, turning in the direction he knew Dany was in, even if she was on the other side of the known world.
Something…Something had happened to her. Something bad. She was… Gods… Angry was far too soft of a word to describe her. The only comparison he had for this emotion, this pure rage burning like the sun, was the night of Lord Nox's wedding when the traitorous Northern Lords and their Maester puppeteers tried to assassinate almost everyone of note in Winterfell. Jon never thought he'd feel such rage again…but now he was. Only it wasn't from Master Nox, but rather from Dany! What in the Seven Hells had happened to her?
"I take it you felt it as well?"
Jon nearly jumped out of his skin, his lightsaber instinctively flicking up into his dominant hand and ready to activate, only to find himself enveloped in a cocoon made of the Force, preventing him from even twitching. "Master Nox," Jon breathed as the cocoon of Force holding him in place dissipated, allowing him to put his lightsaber back on his belt. "You – You felt it as well?"
"Aye," Master Nox nodded, his sightless eyes turning in the direction of Dany. "I may not have been able to formally establish a Master-Apprentice bond between myself and that girl. But I was able to form a slight connection with her during our time together while she was in Pentos."
"What could've happened to her to…to draw such anger, such hatred from her?" Jon asked.
Master Nox turned back to him. "You are the one that shares a dyad with the girl. You tell me."
Frowning in concentration, Jon tried to reach out through his connection to Dany, but he couldn't reach her. Her anger was clouding everything. He doubted that right now she could hear him even if he started yelling right in her ear. "I can't," he sighed, realizing how futile it would be to try and reach out to her right now. "Whatever happened to her has made her so angry that it's clouding our connection and preventing me from reaching out to her."
Frowning, his Master remained silent as his left hand drifted slowly down to his left thigh. Jon knew what he was reaching for. One of the glass candles that they'd liberated from Valyria. Jon had been completely perplexed when his Master finally told him and the others just what the candles could be used for. The easiest of tasks they could perform was to act as far-eyes in the Force. The most complex was using them to…project your image across a great distance to a second glass candle. Instant contact, without the need for riders or ravens. Such a thing was incredible. Jon knew just how important sending and receiving messages was to ruling a land, not to mention during times of war. And with such a quick means of communication at their disposal, it was no wonder why it had taken the Valyrians themselves to destroy their own people and way of life.
"Continue trying to reach out to her whenever you can," his Master ordered him, his hand falling away from the glass candle. "Should you be unable to establish contact with her in the next day, then I will take more…drastic measures. Anger such as she is experiencing can be useful at times. But in the hands of a novice such as herself…it could prove disastrous. Both for herself and those around her."
Standing before the House of the Undying, Dany felt her heart race wildly in her chest as she gazed upon the windowless almost ruin-like monolith structure that housed the warlocks of Qarth. Her son. Her daughter. Her children were locked in this stone fortress. And no matter what, she would see to it that they were returned to her.
"Khaleesi, you need not do this alone."
To her left and right, Ser Jorah and her bloodriders stood ready with hands on their hilts to storm the House of the Undying and take back her children by force. Yet as much as she wanted to give the command, the words of Quaithe rang through her mind. 'This task, this journey is yours to make, Daenerys Targaryen, daughter of Valyria. While those with you have strength at arms to aid you greatly. Only you have the strength needed to pass through the House of Undying and emerge as…something more. Any to dare to traverse past the maw will find themselves lost forever.'
"No," Dany said, her voice calmer than she felt. "This is something that I must do. Alone."
Gathering all her courage, Dany forced herself to put one foot in front of the other as she walked towards the base, looking for some kind of entrance. It wasn't hard to find, as the only break in the solid stone structure was a large face that was carved into the stone. A face with a gaping mouth large enough for one to walk through. 'The maw,' Dany realized as she neared the face.
"Daenerys Targaryen. Khaleesi. Mother of Dragons. I bid you welcome to the House of the Undying."
Dany nearly jumped as a small dwarf-man wearing a high buttoned robe waddled out from within the darkness of the mouth. His face was either deformed or littered with scars, she couldn't tell which. Yet his lips and teeth were stained blue. He was perhaps one of the ugliest creatures she had ever seen. He was carrying a silver tray with a single crystal vial containing a dark blue liquid within. "Before entry, all must partake of the shade of the evening," the creature said, holding the tray, and the vial, towards her to take.
Dany stared first at the small creature, then the blue vial on the silver tray before turning her attention to the open maw in front of her. Ignoring the creature, and his sudden cry of alarm, Dany simply passed him by with her head held high as she walked into the depths of the House of the Undying.
As she walked through the darkened corridor, barely able to even see her hand in front of her face, Dany felt her heart beat faster and faster with each step she took. It was only the lingering presence of Jon in the back of her mind, her constant connection to him that kept her calm. His mere presence, even if only slight, was enough to keep her nerves from overtaking her. That, and the thought of reclaiming her son and daughter from those who dared to steal them from her.
Between one step and another, she suddenly found herself in a circular room with doors, each identical to each other, lining the outskirts of the room. And with her sudden arrival in the strange room, she lost her connection to Jon. Stopping, Dany's heart thundered so hard she was afraid it would burst from her chest as she desperately sought out the connection again. It was there but…not. Almost as if someone had suddenly put a wall between the two of them. The connection was still there but…but she could feel nothing from Jon. Nor could she hear him or even sense him.
Heart racing, Dany stood in the center of the room, staring from one door to the next. "With or without him…I will find my children." Dany swore to herself as she opened herself to the Force, searching for any sign of her children.
It was faint, but she could feel the fleeting traces of her children deeper within the recesses of the House of the Undying. Keeping her eyes closed, Dany stood in the center of the room and slowly turned in a tight circle. When she felt the slight presence of her children grow stronger, she stopped and opened her eyes. Before her was one of the doors in the room almost directly next to the passage where she'd come from. 'Trust in the Force, Dany,' she breathed, putting one foot in front of the other and pushing open the door.
The moment she stepped through the door, she found herself in another long hallway with dozens, no…hundreds of torches lining the wall. And each torch was sitting directly next to a door, just like the one she'd come through. Some were open. Some were closed. But the hallway itself defied all sense. For the straight path before her was at least twice as wide as the House of the Undying. She hadn't gone underground, that much she was sure of… So, how could such a long passage exist in a building that could not have held it?
'Trust only in yourself and your children, Daenerys Targaryen.' The words of Quaithe floated back to her. 'You will find yourself confronting visions and things that are impossible to describe. Things that were. Things that are. Things that are yet to come. And things that will never come. All will be seen. Yet trust in naught but yourself, lest you lose yourself to their insatiable hunger.'
Grabbing one of the torches from the wall, Dany kept her eyes forward, her senses focused on the faint traces of her children as she pressed forward. She was determined to keep her eyes forward and not to investigate the open rooms. But as she passed one and heard a moan that was a mixture between pleasure and agony, she couldn't help but turn her head to see what was going on. The sight she saw beyond the door was…disgusting. A beautiful woman was bound and chained as four dwarf like creatures; one red, one blacked like burnt flesh, one with antlers of flowers, and one sickly and twisted ravaged the bound woman while clawing at her and tearing her flesh. The sight was such that Dany couldn't help but gasp, gaining the attention of the four dwarfs, who suddenly beckoned her to join them.
Fleeing from the sight, Dany backed away quickly, only for her back to collide with an open door behind her. She didn't want to turn, but the sounds of revelry and cups colliding with one another combined with her backing into the door all but forced her to turn around. Within the room she saw a grand feast was being held…only those at the table were covered in blood. Throats slit. Daggers and arrows piercing their bodies. Yet none seemed to care. And at the head of the table sat a young man… A young man that had a wolf's head roughly sewn to his neck where his head should've been. And atop his head was an iron crown.
Holding her hand to her mouth at the macabre display, Dany fled the room and tried her best to keep her eyes focused only on the path before her and not the doors. 'It's not real. They're not real. Just…Just visions.' Shaking her head, Dany rushed forward, anxious to leave this forsaken chamber.
"Princess!"
The voice that called out to her stopped her cold. Despite everything telling her to press onwards, she couldn't help but to stop and turn. Before her was an open door. A red door. A red door leading into a manse she knew well. And standing just within the door leaning on a cane was the man who had sheltered her and her brother for most of her young life in Braavos, Ser Willem Darry.
"There you are, Princess," Ser Darry said kindly, standing aside and motioning for her to come in. "I've been looking everywhere for you, my dear. You mustn't run off like that. Now come, the servants have prepared a nice midday meal for us, and it would be a waste to let it grow cold."
She wanted to, gods save her, she wanted nothing more than to take the offer and step through the red door. The door leading towards the only true home she'd ever known. But she couldn't. She wouldn't. Tears flowing from her eyes, Dany turned her back on the man who all but raised her and fled down the corridor.
She grew numb as she walked, the visions within the rooms passing her by in a blur of sights and images as her curiosity got the better of her as she passed many of the open doors. A woman held down and raped as a boy watched on, helpless and crying while a man stood over him with a red-hot fire rod. Two women holding onto one another, love adoring their faces as a silver haired man stood nearby, demanding they do their duty to the realm. A man in black standing amongst dozens dressed as him was staring at the word 'traitor' that'd been carved on a plank before one of the men walked up and stabbed him in the gut. A grizzled withered old man sitting on a chair of swords screaming to a lion in white to 'burn them all'.
By the time Dany reached the end of the hall, she had no idea just how many of these 'visions' she had seen. But each was…terrifying in their own way. And worse yet, she had no idea what they meant, or if they were visions of the past or future or either. It was…confusing and frustrating. 'They don't matter,' she thought, steeling herself and grasping desperately to the Force to give her some form of strength and comfort. 'Rhaego and Droga are through here. I know it. And nothing will stop a mother dragon from protecting her children.'
The sight that greeted her when she opened the door was…not one that she was expecting. Bright light. Vibrant music. Laughter and the loud din of dozens talking over the music. A wonderful smelling feast that was laid out on a grand table. Waltzing around the room were dozens of men and women, garbed in silk, gold, and jewels as they enjoyed the festivities. As she looked about desperately for her son and daughter, her presence was noted by a thin man near the head of the table, adorned in silk robes with a golden mask covering half his face while a well-endowed woman in a traditional Qarth dress hung on his arm. "My fellow wizards and witches…Our guest of honor has arrived! Daenerys Targaryen! Last daughter of Valyria and mother of Rhaego and Droga! Let us raise a toast to our guest and offer her a place of honor at our table as she deserves!"
All the occupants of the room turned as one towards her, applauding her arrival as they congratulated her arrival all the while beckoning her to take a seat in a gilded chair with a glowing red stone on the back. "My – My son. My daughter. Where are they!?" she demanded, searching desperately around the room for them, yet finding no sight of them.
The man in the mask smiled as he walked over to the chair and motioned for her to sit. "There will be time for that, Daenerys Targaryen. Plenty of time. Please, sit. Eat and join us. You must be so, so very tired after all you've been through, my dear. Come, rest. Eat and drink your fill. And your children will be brought to you in due time."
She – She was indeed tired. And the food and drink smelled so wonderful, the warmth of the fire so inviting. Why shouldn't she take a moment to rest? She'd been running for as long as she could remember. Surely, Rhaego and Droga coul—
"No!" Dany shouted, forcing herself back, after realizing she'd crossed half the distance to the chair that was being held for her. "No! Where – Where are my children?! Give them back to me now!"
The man's grin faltered slightly, and Dany could feel a shift in the room as the warmth wavered. Cold passed over her. "Sit, Daenerys Targaryen. Sit and rest your wary feet. And your children will be brought to you."
This time she was ready for it. The moment she felt the pull to comply, she threw everything she had back at it. "No!" she screamed. And with her scream the world around her shimmered like a mirage in the desert.
The golden hall with the warm hearth and wonderful food and drink was gone. In its place was a dark, revolting sight. The hall was not brightly lit and golden. It was darkened, layers of dust coating everything. The pleasant-smelling food and drink on the table was gone. Replaced with rotten and moldy food and empty cups. The beautiful participants attending the feast were gone. Replaced with rotting corpses, some with flesh still on their bones, sitting in various chairs around the feast of rotten food. The sight and smell was so revolting that Dany nearly lost what little was left in her stomach. The only thing in the room that was not rotten, covered in dust, or decaying was the red jewel that was on the back of the chair the mirage had urged her to sit in.
"Wh – What is this?"
"The House of the Undying, my dear Mother of Dragons."
Dany turned at the voice, ready to strike. But before she could something struck her in the chest with enough force to make her stumble backwards, right into the chair that'd been offered to her before. The moment she sat down, it felt like a weight, or chains, were placed about her, forcing her to stay put in the seat. Struggling, she tried to move, but found that she couldn't even lift her arms from the chair. When she tried to use the Force to push her way out, she felt…drained, tired. Ceasing her struggles until she could think of something, Dany peered into the darkness before, trying to see the one who'd forced her into this position.
As the figure emerged from the shadows into the dim light, Dany tried to fling herself from the chair, to scream, to do anything! But she was helpless to do naught but sit and watch as Pyat Pree walked into the room with Droga in a bird cage in one hand and an sleep Rhaego in the other.
"I understand, Mother of Dragons," Pyat said as he walked past her, setting the cage holding Droga down on the table and allowing Dany to see that her daughter had her wings bound with small chains within the cage. "You are angry. Furious. Scared. I understand. But know that you will now be reunited with your children. Forever."
Dany fought against the invisible binds holding her, but she couldn't move. "Why?"
Pyat tilted his head, a smile crossing his gaunt face. "The Undying hunger, Mother of Dragons. During the time of Valyria, we feasted like no other. Yet when Valyria fell, so did that which sustained us. For centuries, our nourishment waned till there was barely any left. But then the Sorcerer of the West arrived and breathed new life into the dying embers of magic. And once again we feasted. Not as well as when we had a steady supply…but better than we have since the Breaking." Pausing, Pyat caressed her face with a withered finger, making her want to pull back in revulsion, yet again she found herself unable to even move. "He would've sustained us for so long. Unlocked so many mysteries still waiting to be discovered. Yet we cannot reach him. But then you gave birth to your son. Your dragon. And your flames lit anew like a raging inferno on the darkest of nights. While one day we will have the Sorcerer of the West…till then you and your daughter will do your part…in sustaining us and giving us strength. For nothing tastes as fine as a Valyrian Dragon Lord to feast upon."