#WELPPPP starting another fic when i just started another one ooooohpsie

[snowstcrm]

The Young Wolf and The Last Dragon

Summary:  Daenerys spent her years growing up in the Water Gardens palace of Dorne, hidden away from Robert Baratheon's wrath and the world. The usurper is dead however, and kings have begun to rise across Westeros to partake in the game of thrones. One lord in particular has been sweeping every enemy in his path in order save his father in Kings Landing, something Doran Martell sees as an opportunity to finally place the Targaryen princess in his care on the Iron Throne. For the first time in her seventeen years of life, Daenerys sails away from her pools and lemon trees in order to marry the Young Wolf in the north and redeem her family's tarnished name.

Pairing: Robb Stark x Daenerys Targaryen (Robberys)

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Chapter 1 - Farewell to Lemon Trees

Daenerys passed the guards and entered the lush garden, steps slow and hesitant until her eyes found the man seated in a wheelchair. “Uncle, you called for me?” She asked as she approached him, placing her hand on top of his. He was her brother-in-law in truth, but he had taken her in since she was nigh a month old and raised her in the safety of the Dornish palace. Your mother named you Daenerys. He told her once when she was a child splashing in the pools of the Water Gardens. After the Targaryen princess this palace was built for. She gave you that name and and lost her life while trying to get you here safely. She loved you dearly.

She was well versed in Westerosi history, both in centuries old and new. It wasn’t easy to sneak out of the palace, so on most days Daenerys kept herself busy with reading. Reading, writing, reading some more, swimming in the pools, learning the harp, and spending many hours in classes with tutors. Valyrian. She had said as a girl nearing her sixth nameday. I want to learn Valyrian ‘cos the book said Targaryens are Valyrians. Then not a month later Doran had Valyrian texts delivered to her room. Indeed she was spoiled, but she also wasn’t naive enough to believe that this warm upbringing came without any expected duties of her. She knew what she was. She knew that she was an extremely valuable chess piece for the Martells in the game of thrones all the houses of Westeros played. They kept her safe and treated her so dearly that she couldn’t find it in her heart to resent them for that truth though. A few years ago she resolved that if the time ever came and they called on her to carry out duties, she would give them that. Who else in these lands would she place her loyalties in if not them?

“Yes, news has travelled from the north.” His voice ever calm and pensive, a calculative mind behind his words. “Lord Eddard Stark has been detained in Kings Landing and the Lannisters are preparing for his execution. His two daughters are trapped in the capital as well. His eldest son has rallied the north and is travelling south to save him.”

Her brows furrowed as she took in the information before she gave a slight shake of her head, “Joffrey Baratheon, you mean. Joffrey Baratheon will execute him.”

A small smile pulled at his lip, “No, sweetling.”

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Eddard Stark… She pondered as she packed some of her belongings for the long trip ahead. He was one of the men that helped overthrow her father. She knew many cruel stories about her father dubbed the Mad King, and though she acknowledged them, she still felt an obligation to defend the Targaryen name rather than denounce it. She was not Aerys or Rhaegar, but they were her blood, her kin. She was the last dragon and she would redeem the Targaryen name for the sake of her mother and even her sweet brother Viserys that were both killed before she could love them. She’d redeem it for any future children of her own, and their children.

She couldn’t take much with her, but she was warned that her airy Dornish dresses would do her no good anywhere else in Westeros anyway. Instead she took a few books of poetry and history along with other things that could help her pass the time. She picked out a few of her thicker dresses that might stand the chillier weather and some of her best leathers for comfort.

A glint of gold caught her eye and she paused, looking over to the vanity to find her jewelled dagger resting inside a sheath that was just as intricate and exquisite. Walking over to the table, Daenerys picked the weapon up and held it in her palms as she contemplated. She did not know much about the Young Wolf but perhaps they could start on good terms if she presented him with a gift… She did not use the dagger anyway as it was more of a piece to display someone’s wealth and tastes rather than combat prowess. She much more preferred a spear or whip for that matter, any way. The dagger was a gift that had been given to her by a distant lord in Essos that supported her claim years ago.

She wrapped the dagger in a cloth and stashed it in the leather chest she had been given for travel. I may never return. She realized, and the mere thought made her heart ache. The Water Gardens and the land around it were all she had ever known, nestled away in the safety of the palace to hide her from Robert Baratheon’s wrath. But now Robert was dead and kings were springing up across Westeros to claim the seven kingdoms for themselves, and she would marry one of them.

A warm breeze filled her room and she glanced out her window, watching as the leaves of her lemon tree rustled and danced with the wind. Would there be any warmth waiting for her in the north at all?

“Robb Stark is young but his conquests have proven successful. I believe he will take Westeros and swallow it whole-- Baratheons and Lannisters alike. Dorne can only avoid the brewing conflict for so long.” He looked from her back to the shimmering courtyard pools. “I want what’s best for the Dornish people and I know you love this kingdom as much as I. I raised you to be knowledgeable, strong, and wise, so you could one day take back your rightful throne and be a good ruler for Dorne and for all.”

She knew it had always been the truth, but it was different to finally hear it spoken. This had been her duty from the beginning. She had known. She had always known, and she was ready. “You raised me well uncle. Thank you for all that you’ve done for me.” The words were spoken softly, a gentle expression overtaking her features. “I will be a good queen, for all the men, women, and children.”

He nodded, a look of resolve in his eyes. “You will have advisers with you, but they and I can only do so much for you once you’re placed in the fray. The Young Wolf appears to have no desire for the Iron Throne. Who will he place on it once he kills the king and retreats back to the north with his father? Let him see you for what you are.”

Her heart thrummed in her ears at the prospect of sitting on the throne herself. She had assumed that she would be wife of the king, not the ruler herself. “But… I am a woman… The other kingdoms do not recognize Dornish succession laws.”

“Who will be left to stand against you once the Young Wolf tears his and your enemies limb from limb?”

Her hands ran through her once silver-gold tresses, now dyed dark as a raven’s feathers. It was merely for the travel north to White Harbor, one of her handmaidens reassured as the green powder she had mixed with water and other liquids became a mud in her hair. Though it worried Daenerys during the process, she quite liked the final result regardless of how bizarre it was to look at her reflection and not recognize herself right away.

“Ashara Dayne come again,” a voice commented and Daenerys let go of her hair as she looked up to meet the eyes of Oberyn who had arrived to the Water Gardens to travel with her. From her understanding he and his men would be dropped off to sneak into Kings Landing while she would stay on the ships that would keep travelling north to White Harbor.

“Uncle,” she grinned, a hop in her step as she went to hug him. “You haven’t visited Water Gardens for weeks. I was growing concerned.”

He placed a hand on top of her head in reassurance, “A lot has happened and far too quickly, but we’re ready now. I have waited many years for this time to come and now the heads of Elia and her children’s murderers will finally be mine. My family’s justice and yours.”

“I wish you good fortune uncle.” Was it wrong that a secret side of her wished him to slaughter every Lannister and Baratheon man in Kings Landing responsible for her family’s murders? Rhaenys and Aegon barely had a chance at life before their brutalized bodies were presented to Robert Baratheon. She did not care much for the Stark lord either, but she was sure that her new husband-to-be would not take kindly to her even thinking such things of his father. She’d be mindful of her words around him, as she always was.

They were near ready to set sail when Daenerys asked one last wish of Doran. She asked to bring her mare with her on her journey to the north. Daenerys could not bear to part with Silver who had been her companion for a better part of ten years and she had been brought to tears when she visited her in the stables to wish her farewell. She did not cry for many things, but leaving Silver behind was something she could not bring herself to do.

She leaned against the wooden railings of the ship, watching with tears stinging at her eyes as they sailed further and further away from the beautiful beaches and palace, the only home she had ever known. Growing up she had always wished to see the world beyond its ornate walls but now that it has come to pass, a fear seeded itself in the pit of her belly. Westeros was not safe for her. Even her future husband the Young Wolf was said to turn into a beast during battle and eat his enemies. How could she know that such a feral man wouldn’t kill the daughter of the Mad King once he laid his eyes on her? Surely Doran wouldn’t send her off to be killed. He wanted her to be queen. For the time being she could only trust in the man that had raised her and show her new allies that she was not defined by the sins of her family.

I am the blood of the dragon. She repeated in her mind again and again to gather her courage. I must have fire in my eyes when I face them all, not tears.

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