Dragons and Wolves

[[Please read author's note]]

Dany’s eyes darted to Jon, his face was tightened in worry, watching Arya with devastated eyes. Those same eyes she had been admiring before, had had the gaul all this time to look at her after what he had sent an assassin to kill her.

She looked to his strong hand, brushing wispy hairs from his little sister’s face. Those hands that she had let roam all over her curves only minutes before had probably waved his assassin sister off, sending her to kill him.

Dany grit her teeth and shook with rage, she hadn’t done anything to the Night’s Watch. She had come in peace and had freed them from Stannis Baratheon’s overbearing presence in Castle Black. And she was surely a far better and less threatening monarch than her supposed nephew, that was for damn certain.
What was she to do?

Should she return to her Nathi people?

She had returned to the far North for a reason, with a purpose.

There was no going back to those sweet, peaceful people who had nurtured her through her loss.

Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked up to the stone ceiling, refusing to let her tears fall.

How could she have judged someone’s character so badly?

What was she to do?

No matter if she was standing in the same room as her would-be assassin and the man who set the woman into action, she was compassionate enough to know now was not the time nor place to bring it up when Arya’s life hung in the balance.

At one point in time, when she was still in Essos, she was dark enough to have wanted and eye for an eye and would have watched Arya die with a smile on her face but she had grown beyond that, she couldn’t watch tall and strong Jon suffer through her loss nor could she see Rickon and Sansa’s stricken faces when they found out. Could she truly blame Arya for doing her brother’s bidding? Jon had a charismatic way about him that inspired you to do things for him, she had felt it herself.

But she could blame Jon.

Which made the realization that she was falling in love with him even worse

Dany turned and ran from the room and out into the morning light only to see Drogon and Viserion landing in front of Castle Black.

--

Bran tensed, preparing for the worst.

He knew the Crows would protect his body at all costs but he didn’t want to incur the wrath of the cream dragoness.

He knew it was unavoidable, what were they supposed to think when two massive dragons (supposedly under the knew king’s control) flew in with three human hostages, one being the brother of their commander and their warden of the North?

Nonetheless, he had hoped to arrive before day broke and more people would be about.

Bran spotted Daenerys and released the air he had been holding within.

What an impossible stroke of luck, such luck he hadn’t had in any conscious memory.

What was the defunct queen doing here anyways?

Bran didn’t have time to theorize as Rhaegal came barreling towards them from behind Castle Black.

Just like his siser, Rhaegal’s scales were even more beautiful with a dragon’s eyes. What he had thought was a muddy green scale color was truly emerald brushed with bronze. Unlike his sister, his eyes did not match his bronzed accents but instead were an intense and growing lime green.

When Rhaegal approached he gave them a toothy grin, “I am happy you managed to escape.”
Viserion’s equally rumbling voice came from just behind him, “Yes and I am happy you managed to get mother to safety. Have you been here at this ice fortress this entire time?”

“No, we traveled all over the world, you will be happy to know Rhaego is growing well,” Rhaegal nodded his large head, “How did you manage to escape.”

Viserion finally arrived at the side of Drogon’s massive body and lifted her leg, showing Rhaegal Bran’s body, “This body did some sort of magic that allowed us to escape, he has temporarily taken Drogon’s body, from the condition of his body, I believe he was a captive as well, is this true?”

Rheagal met his eyes, the great dragon startled.

Viserion looked to him and Bran nodded, “Yes and my legs don’t work, I thank you greatly for allowing me to borrow your mate’s body, I am in your debt.”

“I see my mother and you were the means of our escape,” Viserion puffed golden smoke from her nose, “The debt has been paid.”

Bran nodded, “I am worried Drogon will react badly if I release him here, is it okay if we wait for your mother’s presence to calm him?”

“That would be for the best,” Viserion sighed.

Rhaegal interrupted, “What of the older fair-haired human who accompanies mother?”

Viserion shook her head, “Dead.”

“And what of the Horse man with the strange sword?”

“Also dead,” Viserion grumbled, “Mother will be devastated.”

--
Perhaps Sansa should have dressed and done something with her hair before running out into the clearing.

Sansa wrapped her arms around her robe covered body, she was causing quite a ruckus amongst the poor celibate men of the Night’s Watch. She just hoped they’d stop staring before Sandor came out of her wardrobe and joined them or he might make more than a few near death accidents occurs during their next training session.

True to the Squire Podrick’s words, Castle Black indeed was now occupied by not two but four dragons.

Sansa’s eyes search the clearing for Jon, instead she found Daenerys.

Even better.

Sansa ran to the Dragon queen, grabbing the silver-haired woman by her hand.

The queen’s eyes looked full of unshed tears, a distant look on her pretty face.

“Daenerys! Drogon and Viserion are here with Bran’s unconscious body! Can you reason with them somehow please, I’m terrified for my brother,” Sansa sputtered unable to stop herself, “I’m sorry, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

It worked, knocking Daenerys out of her reverie, “Oh Sansa, uh I’m fine, let’s go see about my dragons.”

Daenerys dragged Sansa away from the door she was standing in front of and towards the dragons.

“Drogon! Viserion!” Daenerys yelled as soon as they reached them.

Sansa gasped, not only was the cream dragon carrying Bran but the black dragon held two other unconscious people as well, a tall, dark-haired man and a small blonde woman, “Myrcella?”

“Drogon, Viserion, please put down these people gently,” Daenerys asked.

Sansa waved over some men of the Night’s Watch, who quickly picked up the three.

Sansa ran to Bran, grabbing his hand, “He’s so cold.”

She checked for a pulse in his throat, his heart was beating quite strong, “Thank the old gods and the new.”

“I’m so sorry about this, Sansa and everybody,” Daenerys projected, “I think for whatever reason, they were bringing Bran Stark home to you all.”

Something seemed to overcome the black dragon, shaking his massive form and not a second later did Bran awake, he grasped Sansa’s hand, “Sansa.”

Sansa gripped his hand back, “Bran, your finger, we need to get you to Maester Tarly, oh gods, I don’t want you to lose your hand.”

Daenerys stopped stroking Drogon’s scales, “Maester Bran, did Aegon do this?”

“Aye, he did,” Sansa’s heart panged, Bran’s face was stoic. When did her brother become like this? So stoic and unfeeling, so detached.

“I’ll kill the bastard for you,” Daenerys assured, her eyes as fierce as her adopted dragon children.

“My true queen, his trespasses against you were far worse, I thank you for your concern but it’s just my ring finger, practically useless anyways, he planned to send it to you lot, so we shall get my family ring back. I think having it stitched and sanitized will do the trick and I won’t be too worse for wear. Where is Maester Tarly?”

Daenerys quivered, “With Arya and Jon.”

Sansa nearly dropped Bran’s hand then gripped it tight, “What’s wrong?”

“It seems as if Arya accidentally poisoned herself, I just came out of the room where Maester Tarly was working to counteract the poison just as Sansa found me.” Daenerys frowned.

“Did you say Arya?” The third unconscious person, the tall, dark-haired man asked, “Where am I?”

Daenerys looked to the man and was unable to mask the surprise in her lilac gaze, “Master Gendry?”

“You know him?” Sansa asked.

“Aye, he was—is the best blacksmith in King’s Landing.”

The men set Gendry down on his feet and Gendry brushed the snow off of himself and straightened his clothing out.

Daenerys continued, “I’m sorry, it seems like my dragon’s brought you here for some reason, you’re at Castle Black.”

Gendry seemed to disregard what she said, “Where’s Arya?”

“How do you know Arya?” Sansa asked.

“I made friends with her in King’s Landing after your father’s death,” Gendry explained, obviously tense, “Did you say she was poisoned, is she alright?”

“He knows Arya,” Bran seemed to whisper to himself, a chuckle escaping him, “Fate is quite interesting.”

--

Arya woke to Gendry holding one hand and Rickon holding the other.

She smiled at Rickon and looked to Gendry, “That’s odd, Death’s Nudge doesn’t cause hallucinations.”

Gendry grinned at her, he squeezed her hand with one of his and rubbed it with the other, “You crazy girl, it’s no hallucination, it’s just a miracle that you have lived.”

Maester Sam coughed, “Jon told me you have a resistance to many poisons, Death’s Nudge is a bit more violent than most poison’s so complete resistance would be an impossibility. You’ll live and after a week or two of rest, you should theoretically be fine but it still took quite the toll on your system.

I’m a little curious about these resistances of yours, this information could be invaluable to us in the future. Jon said you could explain once you woke.”

Arya looked around the room, her vision was slightly blurred, the only other people in the room was Sansa, Jon, Val and Brienne of Tarth. Bran was in a cot nearby and a blonde girl with a scarred face in another. Arya looked to Jon and he nodded.

“Well Sam, I was trained in the House of Black and White in Braavos, a group of assassins who are not only trained in weapons and poisons but also in dark magics that make us incomparably strong and able to take different faces to carry out these kills. My aim was vengeance against those who hurt the Starks but the House’s own aim was to strip their own of their identities until they are just tools. They liked me but feared me, my will was far too strong, my identity could not be erased, at one point I had forgotten my own name but every night I dreamt memories of my family and friends and of Nymeria’s beautiful eyes and soft fur. Once I got all of my training, I was able to get free from their hold.”

Rickon had stared at her in shock, she had cultivated his belief that she was just a strong warrior, meaning to keep the darker parts of her training a secret from his innocent heart and admiration of his elder sister, he tried carefully to hide it, “Is that when you came home?”

“No, I was only with them a few years, the rest of the decade was spent running away and hiding from them and eventually fighting them head on, I wanted vengeance in Westeros but I didn’t dare want to find you guys again until I was sure my presence wouldn’t put you in danger. They are quite good at what they do, if they were still a threat, they could come in anytime and kill you to punish me. It nearly killed me to stay away, the strongest test of my willpower by far but I wouldn’t change a thing, it was for the best.”

“That’s quite interesting history, I would love to write down your entire tale,” Sam seemed absolutely captivated, “Some other time, I would love to learn about the magic of shapeshifting but I’d like to know more about the poisons, how did they get you resistant to so many poisons in a short time?”

“Well they fed them to me with out telling me, I didn’t even realize it until a few months in when I once overate and began to seizure, after that it became a constant thing, they had me make them myself so I could learn how to do it, gradually increase dosages over time, sometimes overdosing so I could study the side effects. This went right along side all of the other training.”

“Fascinating,” Sam nodded, “I wonder if we could poll our men and see if they would be open to a more mild version of this type of resistance training. We have plenty of other things trying to kill us in this frozen wasteland, it would be superb to eliminate one threat.”

“When I’ve recovered, I’d be okay with that, as long as we don’t let others know their recipes, that could end up quite dangerous in someone who isn’t as benevolent as you.”

Sam nodded, Jon put a hand on his best friend’s shoulder, “Sam, now that you got your history lesson, could my siblings and I have a moment alone?”

“Of course, Jon, please let me know if anyone’s condition changes,” Sam left.

Brienne of Tarth followed but Val crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at Jon in challenge, daring him to make her move.

Jon sighed and waved the back of his hand at her, “So be it.”

He looked to Gendry, the blacksmith who reforged Ice at Daenerys request.

Daenerys

Where was the dragoness?

Jon thought of their encounter early and could feel himself start to blush. He shook the thought from his head, now was not the time, “If you could give us a moment, Master Gendry.”

Gendry nodded politely and went to move but Arya held tight to him almost falling off the cot. With the utmost gentleness, the blacksmith maneuvered her back under her furs and tried to disentangle himself from her.

Arya growled, “Bull shite! If your wildling gets to stay, Gendry can stay as well!”

Jon ran his hand through his curly hair, “Fine but this faultiness in my authority doesn’t leave this circle of people, let’s let the illusion of my power still hold strong in front of my men.”

“I have many questions for the lot of you, I’m trying my best to keep the group of you alive and happy but I have quite a hard time doing that if all of you are keeping secrets from me, we have war nipping at our heels, we need to be united together” Jon looked to Bran, “First, we’ll start with you.”

Bran smiled, “What would you like to know?”

“I could fill a book with the questions I have for you Brandon, first and foremost, I know you freed the dragons and I’m curious how you did that and convinced them to tote you and two other people up here.”

Bran shrugged, “You, Sansa and Val should find chairs, it’s going to be quite the story.”