Silver [Daenerys Targaryen Imagines]

Home

Summary : Home, a place she's longed for since she was a child. But she wasn't prepared to lose it so soon.

Words : 1746

Warnings : Blood, death.

Notes : I'm absolutely terrible at writing angst this is best I can do lol.

Requested by RaeEmbry.

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"I want to go home." She always told you. "You will." You always replied. It's an easy thing, saying that. Making it real is another story. But you knew that won't be a problem, not for her.

You've been with her since Essos, having accompanied Ser Barristan on his journey, escaping the hellhole that was Westeros, only to find yourself fighting to get back there. The irony of your life is one you could never understand. You would've never even thought of going back, but something, or rather someone, changed your mind.

You stayed by her side as she commanded the unsullied, as she freed the people of Mereen, smiled as she rode the dragon for the first time, watched as she walked out of the raging fire unharmed in Vaes Dothrak, holding her hand as you arrived to Dragonstone.

You wouldn't change it for anything. She was the dragon itself, powerful, ruthless, smart, but moreover she was gentle, passionate and loving. Loving her was easy, it came not long after you met her. You stood on the sidelines most of the time, though. Too afraid to do anything, until she came to you and changed it. You've been lovers ever since and the both of you couldn't be happier.

Or so you thought.

Something changed the day Viserion died and Jon Snow came back almost dead. They seemed to have formed a bond, but again, you think nothing of it as you continued to comfort Daenerys of her recent loss. You were mourning yourself, but it was nothing compared to hers. He was her child, the dragon she raised and had protected, and he died in foreign lands, far away from home. Your heart ached when you think about it, so you don't.

Your relationship got worse when you arrived to Winterfell. She spent even more time with Jon, and everytime you made plans she disregarded them. When you tried to talk to her, she either brushed you off or it turned into another argument. It seemed like an endless cycle now.

You raked your brain as you laid in bed alone, thinking of what you could've done to upset her. Was it something you said, or did you do something wrong? But as you watched her interact with the other man, you concluded to yourself that you were never enough to begin with. She's a Queen, for God's sake. She needed a man beside her, to be her King, help her rule the seven Kingdoms. Not you, a lowly woman with no inheritance or anything to give her.

But you decided, you ought to fight for her one last time. Which was what brought you here, sitting in front of her near the fire to warm you up, wine set up on the small table between you. There was an unpleasant feeling in the pit of your stomach at the silence that surrounded you. You snapped your head up when you heard her call you.

"Y-yes?" You cringed at the way your voice cracked, nerve building inside you. You stared at her as she tried to bring herself to break the words to you. She stood up abruptly, the chair scratched the floor loudly and you flinched, startled at her sudden movement.

"I can't keep doing this," You inhaled, wringing your hands together and picking your fingers. "What do you mean?" You asked, standing up slowly to face her. "This relationship.." She gestured between you, "We can't continue this, Charlie." You wrapped your arms around yourself, gripping the edge of your clothes, sadness suddenly turned into anger.