Reborn In Fire And Blood

Chapter 4

Daenerys

Daenerys was stuck. Stuck in a strange land, with no allies, no money, or any hope to get home, nor let anybody know she was alive. She  wandered the city streets. By the red priestess, she was given a burlap dress that stopped at her knees, but no shoes were provided. The sun heated street began to burn her feet with every step. She stopped in front of a shop window, admiring the Volantian fashions. Cream colored robes and dresses, ornate with gold sweeps and gems that shined brightly.
"May I help you?" An old woman stepped out of the shop Daenerys stood in front of.
"No, No." Daenerys smiled weakly. "I have no gold." She returned her gaze to the clothing.
The old woman narrowed her eyes at Daenerys, stepping closer to her.
"What is your name, girl?"
She looked back at the woman,"I am Daenerys Targaryen."
The woman's eyes flew open, her hands cupped together as she bent her head down.
"My queen, you were the one liberated my city, after i nearly escaped with my life from the slavers of Meereen. For that I am forever in your debt. Please, what am I able to do to help you?"
Daenerys stood, taken aback.
"Please, you do not owe me anything."
The old woman looked up at her with such admiration Daenerys had not seen in so long.
      "No, please. Allow me to help you. You should not be dressed in such manner."
The older woman led her up the stairs above the shop she owned, there lay a large room where a bed, table, a few chests, and chairs was the only furniture. In the corner lay a curtain. There, she handed her a light blue dress, fastened together at the shoulders by silver dragons along with a pair of white leather sandals. The material of the clothing was thin and made for the heat. She retreated to the corner area and slid the thick and scratchy material off. As she slipped into the new soft and stretchy material, she fastened the silver dragons that held it upon her shoulders.
"I am the blood of the dragon." She whispered.
Once Daenerys had stepped out in the clothing, a young girl no older than ten took her burlap.
"My queen, what are you doing here?" The old woman spoke, handing Daenerys a thick slice of bread, covered in goats cheese.
"I was betrayed by my closest confidants and murdered at the height of my power." Daenerys choked, as the reality of her situation came to light. Before the woman could say anything, Daenerys turned to the little girl.
She sat on the mattress, glancing at Daenerys. Her brown skin shined in the sun, as her kinky hair framed her round, childish face dotted with freckles.
"Is she your child? Or a grandchild?" Daenerys asked the woman.
"No, An orphan I found on the streets a few moons back. My family still reside in Meereen."
Daenerys smiled at the girl, who in turn grinned and looked down onto the bed again.
"What do you plan to do?" The old woman spoke to her.
"I plan to gather my army once more, find my dragon, and take back my throne."
"My queen, allow me to assist. I can send messages to your former soldiers. Wherever they are I know they'll join your cause once more."
Daenerys smiled warmly on the woman.
"In return of your hospitality I'll bring you and the girl with me when I take the throne back."
The old woman had left to write, and to send messenger birds to where her unsullied now lay. Daenerys sat on the floor of the strange house. She pulled out the knife she had strapped to her, and grasped a ruined braid from her hair. She tore the blade through, severing it from her head as it fell to the floorboards. From there she grabbed handfuls of hair, dragging it through and slicing her long, white hair from her head. Her throat burnt, her eyes felt sore and red, her heart ached.
      "What are you doing?" The young girl slowly appeared up the stairs.
Daenerys did her best to hold back the tears she kept built up behind her. She must be strong.
      "When Dothraki soldiers lose a battle, they cut their hair." She forced a smile onto her face.
      "Are you a Dothraki?"
      "I once was. I was married to a Khal." Daenerys spoke, watching the strands fall around her.
"Wow." The little girl sat in-front of Daenerys, with childlike wonder painted on her face.
Daenerys spent the time with the young girl telling her her life story, until her foster mother known by the name of Bani arrived home.
"Mativa." Bani called up the stairs, followed by the creaking of the wooden slabs.
The young girl broke off from Daenerys and fled to Bani.
"I sent the bird, My queen. If the soldiers receive it, they'll arrive within three weeks."
"Bani you are truly a trustworthy woman." Daenerys smiled warmly.
      "Let us plan to take back the kingdoms."