Fire and fury | Daenerys Targaryen

A mother

The commotion outside her door alarmed Daenerys who was conversing with Missandei in her chambers. Before the two women can comprehend the situation, Ardella flew open the door with the queen's unsullied still struggling to stop her.

Daenerys ordered her guards to step out in Valerian despite being taken aback by the Baratheon's discourteous arrival. On the other hand, the translator stood unsure to leave her queen with her aggravated former lover but felt out of place in their private moment.

With a subtle nod, Daenerys reassured her handmaiden, who left with a worried glance towards Ardella.

"What is the meaning of this?" Daenerys demanded, her gaze sweeping over the disheveled queen who seems to have forgotten all her manners and grace. It was unexpected but nevertheless pleased her a little to see Ardella reckless and temperamental as she used to be in their past.

She could see a storm of emotions – fury, pain, and a touch of desperation in the Baratheon's brown eyes. Hence, she didn't miss a beat to question her in fear of losing them all to Ardella's queenly facade again.

"I met your daughter." The Baratheon's whisper widened the Targaryen's eyes for she didn't anticipate the stag queen to meet her daughter this soon.

A tense silence stretched between them before Ardella's voice rose, laced with raw emotion, "Why? Tell me why, Daenerys!"

"I thought you forgot about me, despised me and fell in love and made family. That I meant nothing to you anymore. That you will live in Meereen happily with your children and husband with no thoughts of me." She paced around the room on the verge of tears, resorting to her last will not to fall apart in front of the dragon queen.

Ardella stopped in front of Daenerys with desperation, "Tell me why you named your daughter after me." Her final defense to stand against the dragon was hanging by a thread. For she had throughly convinced herself that their past was a closed chapter and the dragon's hatred for her will eventually end with them facing each other in battle.

The question hung heavy in the air. But Ardella's breath hitched when a soft hand caressed her cheek, wiping her desperate tears that she didn't know were streaming down her face.

"What could I have done when her little brown eyes reminded me of you everytime I stared into them?" Daenerys smiled sadly, her voice soft with fondness.

Ardella's breath hitched. The truth, a tidal wave of realization, washed over her. Her pursuit of power, a twisted justification for her own love towards Daenerys, had left a trail of devastation that broke the heart of the very person she dedicated all her sacrifices.

Ardella fell on her knees in front of the dragon, her arms clinging around her waist with tears of regret and longing staining the dragon queen's silk dress.

In turn, Daenerys simply comforted her with a heavy heart at the sight of Ardella's suffering despite the complexities swirling around them ever since their paths crossed each other's again.

After awhile, the storm within the Baratheon queen had passed, leaving behind a desolate emptiness that only Daenerys, perhaps, could mend. But in fear of planting a wishful seed inside her heart, out of shame and regret, she retired to her chambers.

"Ardella..." Missandei's voice stopped her on her way.

The translator didn't miss the remnants of tear stains on the Baratheon's face. But without questioning it, "Daario Naharis wanted me to deliver this to you. If we ever crossed paths someday..." Missandei said hesitantly when she mentioned the deceased sellsword.

He was a man who was not afraid of death. But he anticipated there was no place for him next to Daenerys in Westeros. Hence, her letter to the Baratheon became his will without knowing his demise that followed him soon after.