Silver [Daenerys Targaryen Imagines]

Dying Flames

Daenerys Targaryen x inferni!reader

Words : ±7k

Summary : As the war unfolds, Daenerys and her Commander struggles to keep their relationship from falling apart.

Warnings : language, violence, deaths??

A/N : I miss my girl dany so much y'all don't even understand here's a lil something. Happy reading!!

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The cold stung on her skin, little prickles of ice pricking on her already rosy cheeks, her lips turning a shade lighter and she could feel it going numb from the harsh winds brushing against her face. At times like this, Daenerys only longed for the warmth of your touch, comforting like no other. She felt it was what she needed most at the moment, for if she was to drag this rescue out any longer, she might never have the chance to feel your lips again from being frozen into ice. Despite being naturally hot - your words, not hers - she had found herself too dependent on you as a heat source in the colder nights.

If only Jon Snow hadn't decided to play the hero instead of getting on the damn dragon, they wouldn't have to stand in the middle of the blizzard far longer than intended. Their plan was to find and bring in one, and there they were, thousands of Wights surrounding them; it was either their plan to attract them had gone too well, or it'd gone terribly wrong. Daenerys settled on the former, just a little too well they'd got more than expected, seeing they were all scrambling for their lives. She could see her breaths in the air, could feel the ice cracking from the fire her children rained upon them.

It took only a moment. Her gaze lingered for a moment longer on Jon Snow, seeing him fight with recklessness; brave, but stalling them towards safety. It happened only in a blink, then her head snapped towards the sky because of the shrieking sound only a dragon could make rang throughout the ice field. There was a figure falling along with him, shooting fire at the spear that had lodged itself through Viserion's neck in hope of melting it. All eyes were trailed on it, moving in sync as they watched them fall, the figure clutching onto the dragon's wing upon landing, screams of grief so gut-wrenching they'd felt as if they were the ones speared through the heart.

Daenerys felt her heart break; Viserion, her boy, dying on ice, in a foreign place, fighting a war that wasn't his to fight, a war that hadn't even started yet. She only watched as Rhaegal dived after his brother, wishing to save him only to realize it was too late. But instead of shooting back into the freezing air, his claws snatched you from Viserion's side, despite the screams of protests and the death grip to pry his scaly feet off your body, trying to break free of his hold.

The Khaleesi sat in silence on Drogon's back as he flew, and when the men she rescued climbed off the giant creature, she made no move to step down, only directed the dragon upwards, welcoming the air as it bit against her wet cheeks, letting it freeze up her heart in the process.

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"He's with him. Your dragon." Out of all things she'd expected to hear when she finally arrived at Winterfell, this - Jon's brother telling her that her son, her Viserion, was with the Night King - wasn't one of them. Her fist balled up, missing the usual grounding squeeze you'd give her in dire times. She did not know how to react, too caught up in her head and the next thing she knew, she sat in a hall, facing the high lords of Winterfell, planning the upcoming course of action. Half of the plan passed her mind, by the seven hells, she couldn't even gather her thoughts right. How was she to be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms when she was easily distracted?

A cocky, armored man showed her the way to her chambers, making snide comments about a foreign ruler, how she "whored" her way into getting their King to bend the knee. Luckily, Missandei was right by her side, offering an arm to loop with hers as they walked so Daenerys didn't pay him any mind. Grey Worm strutted frigidly to her side once she reached the door, assuming he was to take post to guard her for the night. "Would you fetch Y/N for me, please?" Before he could answer, the Northern man spoke up. "The red witch? Wonder if she was as good in the bedroom as they said she was in the pleasure house." Missandei glared at the man with her mouth agape, the Unsullied looked ready to cut out the man's tongue and Daenerys.. she was frozen in place, face paling and jaw clenched as the notion planted itself in her brain.