Pain.
Burning pain.
It felt like a blade scraping against bone, an unbearable searing agony.
Sweat beaded on Daenerys's forehead, dripping down like tiny pearls as she clenched her teeth, resisting the overwhelming urge to pull her hand back from the flames. Despite the instinctive reaction, she held steady, her delicate hand hovering over the flickering fire. Her nerves screamed, yet her muscles remained intact, unburned. The slender, pale fingers she extended didn't curl into charred claws, dripping with fat like roasted chicken feet.
She had succeeded.
She had awakened her inherited gift—the unburnt.
"Fire is power," Daenerys whispered, her voice barely audible through the haze of pain.
The success gave her the courage to continue with her plan.
Daenerys had always known her body could endure extreme heat, but she had never dared to test the limits of her resilience, not until the desperate attempt to hatch the dragon eggs forced her hand. Despite her unique resistance, the flames still brought her the same excruciating pain they would any other person.
"I won't fear pain," she told herself now.
Burying her hand in the glowing embers, she resembled someone roasting sweet potatoes. Her lips moved, murmuring "I'm not afraid of pain" repeatedly, hoping the mantra would lull her mind into submission.
Sweat soaked her hair, dripping onto the pillow and woolen blanket beneath her. The intense heat seemed endless.
Hours passed in a haze of determination and discomfort. Her trembling hand emerged from the coals, tender but unharmed. Weak and parched, Daenerys licked her dry lips and nudged Irri, who was sprawled half off the bed like a discarded rag doll.
"Khaleesi?" Irri blinked awake, her instincts as a handmaiden honed to perfection.
"Bring me some water," Daenerys rasped, her throat dry and voice hoarse.
"Do you mean to fetch it from the river?" Irri asked hesitantly.
Daenerys paused, only then recalling the Dothraki's habit of drinking raw water from natural sources. "Forget it. Bring me two skins of mare's milk instead," she instructed.
Among the nomadic Dothraki, water was scarce and unreliable, often teeming with danger. They preferred milk or fermented mare's milk to quench their thirst. The practice mirrored the habits of medieval Earth's nobility, who drank diluted wine to avoid the risks of contaminated water.
After gulping down nearly a liter of the slightly sour milk, Daenerys felt revitalized.
"Irri, throw on more wood," she said, gesturing toward the corner where firewood was stacked.
"Khaleesi, your hair is drenched with sweat. Aren't you feeling too hot?" Irri asked, concerned.
"It's nothing," Daenerys waved her off. "Sweating feels good."
As flames licked higher at the newly added logs, Daenerys lay back, satisfied. Her generosity extended far enough to grant Irri a spare blanket and the freedom to find a cozy spot to sleep.
When Irri was soundly asleep, Daenerys stretched out on the woolen rug, her slender feet propped directly on the woodpile feeding the fire.
At first, the heat made her hiss in discomfort, but soon she drifted into a hazy slumber.
In her dreams, Daenerys found herself in a strange place. Pillars of fire surrounded her, and the world stretched into an endless sea of flames. She wandered through it, both in pain and inexplicably exhilarated.
After what felt like an eternity, a shadow loomed over her, blotting out the fiery horizon.
She looked up—and froze in awe.
A massive black-scaled dragon towered above her, its molten eyes gazing down like pools of lava. Its immense head, the size of a mountain, cast her in shadow, while wings spread wide, blocking out the sky.
Unlike the passive dreams of her predecessor, who had merely felt uneasy near the dragon eggs, this Daenerys was different. She was resolute and purposeful.
She had placed the dragon eggs close to her skin, subjecting them to fire and heat while enduring the agony herself. Her goals were clear: strengthen her bond with fire and forge a soul connection with the dragons.
She was determined—she had to become the Mother of Dragons.
In this unforgiving world, survival without dragons was impossible.
She was momentarily stunned, but her shock quickly turned into excitement. Throwing her arms wide as if to embrace the enormous creature, she shamelessly called out, "Are you the black dragon? I'm your mother. Remember me, stay connected with me daily, and don't hold back any advantages you can offer. Oh, by the way, where are your brothers? The white dragon and the green dragon, where are they?"
"Boom!"
The black dragon opened its mouth, large enough to fit a carriage, and unleashed a torrent of blood-red flames mixed with black smoke. The fire engulfed Daenerys entirely. She felt her skin charring, turning black and peeling away in chunks, while her blood vessels boiled and evaporated. Yet, unlike the pain she endured while burning herself with firewood, this brought no agony, only a sensation of cleansing, of being tempered.
She felt stronger, reborn.
Simultaneously, strange information appeared in her mind—a gift from her "Mother of Dragons" inheritance. There were three main points:
The Unburnt: Ordinary flames might cause varying degrees of discomfort, but fire is the ally of the Mother of Dragons and cannot harm her body.
Dragon Hatching: By channeling fire and spiritual energy into dragon eggs, she could hatch petrified eggs, dead eggs, or healthy ones into living dragons.
Dragon Dreams: The Mother of Dragons and her dragons are two parts of a single whole, capable of seamless soul fusion. In an unconscious state (such as during sleep), she could communicate and resonate with the dragons' souls.
"At last, I've become the complete Daenerys Targaryen," she murmured in awe before falling into a dazed slumber.
The next morning, Daenerys was woken by Irri's panicked screams.
"Khaleesi! Khaleesi! Are you alright? It's all my fault—I slept too deeply last night and didn't hear you cry for help. I'm so sorry!"
Daenerys blinked at the sight of Irri, who was on the verge of tears, looking horrified at her legs buried in the ashes.
"Uh…" It took a moment for Daenerys to fully awaken. She quickly lifted her legs out from the ashes and presented them to the distressed handmaiden.
Her skin was still soft and unblemished, save for some black soot left from the embers.
"How… how is this possible?" Irri gasped in disbelief.
"I am Daenerys Targaryen, born of the storm, with true dragon's blood," Daenerys declared with a solemn expression.
"But… your brother…" Irri muttered, pouting as she thought of Viserys, the so-called "true dragon," who had met his end in a molten crown of gold.
"You'll understand in time. Now, help me change my clothes," Daenerys replied dismissively.
Daenerys' "Mother of Dragons" abilities aren't overly exaggerated. They're primarily based on logical deductions and interpretations from the original A Song of Ice and Fire.
For example:
The Unburnt: Daenerys spent an entire night in a fire pit without injury. During the chaos in Meereen, she even survived being bathed in Drogon's dragonfire with little more than a small blister. Dragonfire is far more powerful than regular flames—even stronger than wildfire, according to the lore.
Dragon Hatching: This will be discussed in greater detail during the dragon-hatching scenes later.
Dragon Dreams: Like the Stark family's "wolf dreams," Daenerys' dragon dreams have appeared multiple times in the books. However, she has passively experienced them rather than actively developing this ability.
Comparatively, Bran Stark's awakening of his "greensight" was a gradual process, starting with warging, wolf dreams, and eventually developing full control. Jon Snow and Arya Stark also displayed latent warging abilities but never actively pursued or refined them.
Even Rickon Stark, despite his young age, seemed to instinctively attempt bonding with his direwolf. His warging and wolf dream abilities appeared to be more mature and powerful than those of his older siblings.
In summary, while I've given Daenerys a slight edge with these abilities, they are firmly rooted in the original lore and won't exceed the limits of the world's established power dynamics.
(End of chapter)
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