Chapter 149: The Golden Garden

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Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

ASOIAF and all of its characters belong to GRRM

I own nothing but the original characters I make.

"Dialogue"

'Thoughts'

-Author notes-

Chapter 149: The Golden Garden

"The fate of the world?"

Daenerys heard the words leave the boy's mouth, but they did not seem to settle in her mind. 

They hung in the air like smoke, formless and impossible to grasp. She looked at Bran Stark, the young boy sitting on the bench. She looked into his impossibly old eyes that were somehow in a child's face where they did not belong, and she did not know what to say.

She glanced at the others. The grey-eyed young man stood apart from the rest, his hands resting on his lap, his expression watchful. He had the look of the North about him…the dark hair, the lean face, the quiet intensity. But there was something else too, something in the way he held himself, something in the way his eyes seemed to flicker with a strange, almost fiery light when he thought no one was looking.

"And you are?" Daenerys asked, her voice carefully neutral.

"Jon Snow," he said. "The bastard son of Eddard Stark."

'Another Stark,' Daenerys thought. She did not like it. What are two Stark doing here?

Ned Stark was the man who had helped overthrow her father, who had stood by while her family was destroyed, who had been one of the leaders of the rebellion that had cost her everything.

But she also knew that Ned Stark had been an honorable man. Her brother Viserys had cursed his name, had spoken of him as a traitor and a usurper. But others had told her a different story…that Ned Stark had argued against the sack of King's Landing, that he had tried to protect the Targaryen children, that he had been horrified by what had been done to them.

And Joffrey had saved him. Joffrey had allowed Ned Stark to escape King's Landing, had protected his daughters, had shown him mercy when Cersei would have shown none.

She knew that Joffrey had a close relationship with the Stark and had even entrusted his siblings to them.

Daenerys turned her attention to the red-haired priestess, whose robes were the color of blood and flame. And finally, she looked at the blonde girl.

The girl's face was familiar. The green eyes, the golden hair, the shape of her jaw. Daenerys had seen that face before.

'She looks like him,' Daenerys thought. 

"What is your name?" She asked.

The girl opened her mouth to answer, but before she could speak, a voice cut through the silence.

"Myrcella?"

Daenerys turned. Tyrion Lannister was standing in the doorway, his mismatched eyes wide, his face pale with shock.

Myrcella's face lit up. "Uncle Tyrion!"

Tyrion crossed the room in a few quick strides. He stopped before her, his eyes searching her face as if he could not believe what he was seeing.

"Myrcella," he breathed. "Is that truly you?"

"It is me, Uncle." Myrcella smiled, a warm, genuine smile that transformed her face. "I have come a long way to find my brother. But…I also wanted to see you."

Tyrion reached out and took her hands. "How? How are you here? The last I heard, you were in King's Landing, with your mother."

"It is a long story," Myrcella said. "And not a happy one." She clutched at her necklace.

Daenerys watched the exchange, her mind racing. This was Myrcella, of course. Joffrey's little sister. 

The girl he had gone to protect at great personal cost. To the point that he even lost his arm to do so.

'She is important to him,' Daenerys realized. 'Extremely important.'

She thought of Joffrey, locked in his laboratory, lost in his grief. 

She could not allow any harm to come to this girl. Whatever Joffrey was going through, whatever darkness had taken hold of him, the sight of his sister might be the thing that brought him back.

"Princess Myrcella," Daenerys said, her voice softer now. "So you are Joffrey's little sister."

"Yes," Myrcella said. "And I must see him. I have an important message for him. Something that cannot wait."

Daenerys looked at the girl, at the desperate hope in her eyes, at the determination in her jaw. She looked at Bran Stark, at his ancient, knowing eyes. She looked at Jon Snow, at his hands still bound before him.

They had come a long way. They had risked much. And they had come for Joffrey.

"I…I'm not against taking you to him, but first," Daenerys paused. "There is something important that you must know."

The story took nearly an hour to tell.

Daenerys spoke of the assassin who had come to Meereen, wearing the face of Jaime Lannister. 

She spoke of the Faceless Men, of their temple in Braavos, of the contract that had been placed on Joffrey's life. She spoke of the night the assassin had struck and how he had crept into Joffrey's chambers, how he had killed Saera, how he had nearly killed Ser Jorah.

She spoke of Joffrey's grief, his rage, his guilt. She spoke of how he had blamed himself for Saera's death, how he had locked himself away in his laboratory, refusing to see anyone. She spoke of how his magic had become unstable, how his eyes had changed, how he had created an impossible garden within the walls of a stone pyramid.

By the time she finished, the room was silent.

Myrcella's face was pale, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Tyrion stood beside her, his hand on her shoulder, his expression grim.

"Uncle Jamie hired an assassin?. How can that be?"

"I found it hard to believe as well, Tyrion admitted, not wanting to speak ill of his brother. "But Joffrey saw it clearly in the assassin's mind. It was Jamie who hired them, and it was Jamie's face that the assassin wore when he came here."

"And Joffrey got his revenge after that," Daenerys added. "The House of Black and White is gone. Every Faceless Man within its walls is dead. But it did not bring him peace. It did not bring her back."

"Then, the more reason to see him, Myrcella said. "Please…"

"I will speak with him first," she said. "I will tell him you are here. If he agrees to see you, I will bring you to him. But I cannot promise anything."

Myrcella nodded, her expression understanding. "I know. Thank you, Your Grace."

Daenerys turned to Grey Worm. "Take them to the guest quarters in the main pyramid. See that they are given food and fresh clothing. They are not prisoners. They are honored guests. And give their belongings back to them."

Grey Worm nodded and gestured to the Unsullied. The guards moved to untie the prisoners' bonds.

She turned and walked toward the door. "Get some rest and have something to eat. You all look tired and hungry. You will be safe here in Meereen. I will return when I have spoken with Joffrey."

<><>

Daenerys left the holding area with her personal guards, a small escort of Unsullied. 

The night air was cold, and the streets of Meereen were quiet.

Her objective was not the main pyramid where she spent most of her time. Joffrey was currently locked in his personal laboratory, not in his chambers.

She walked toward the secondary pyramid, the one Joffrey had claimed as his own. It had once housed the city's wealthiest Masters, their apartments decorated with silk and gold and marble. Now it stood mostly empty, save for the Dothraki who had made their homes in its halls and the laboratory where Joffrey worked.

The Dothraki watched her pass. They did not speak, did not bow, did not show any sign of deference. They simply watched, their dark eyes following her every move.

As they were reminding her that they were not her servants. They only follow Joffrey.

If Joffrey were to leave Mereen for good, Daenerys did not want to think what this massive army of Dothraki would do.

But she did not resent them for it. As someone how lived with them for a longer time, she understood their position. Joffrey had conquered them, had bent them to his will, had given them a purpose. They were loyal to him, as she had once hoped they would be loyal to her one day.

She reached the entrance to the pyramid and climbed the stairs. The corridors were dark, lit only by the faint glow of torches, but she knew the way. She had been here before, in those early days when Joffrey had first arrived in Meereen, when he had been eager to show her his work, his experiments, his plans.

Now those corridors felt different. Darker and colder. As if the very stones had absorbed the grief and rage that filled them.

She reached the door to his laboratory. It was a massive door of black iron, covered in runes and symbols that she did not understand. There were no guards. There was no need. 

No one would be crazy enough to enter this room without permission.

She stopped before the door and raised her hand to knock. But before her knuckles could touch the iron, the door swung open.

Daenerys took a breath. Of course. Of course he knew she was here.

She stepped inside.

The room was dark. Much darker than she expected. 

During her previous visits, Joffrey always kept at least half a dozen torches and countless candles to lit the place up.

She stood at the threshold, her eyes straining to see through the shadows. She could make out shapes…the shapes of tables and shelves, of jars and instruments. But beyond that, there was nothing. Only darkness.

And then she took another step, and the world changed completely, and she was in a different place.

It was like stepping through a doorway into another world. The darkness fell away, and suddenly she was standing in a garden…a vast, impossible garden, filled with flowers and trees and grass so green it hurt her eyes.

She gasped.

The garden stretched as far as she could see, disappearing into the distance in a haze of gold and green. A blue sky arched overhead, cloudless and bright, and the air was warm, filled with the scent of jasmine and roses.

'This is impossible,' Daenerys thought. 'I am inside the pyramid. There is no sky. There is no garden here.'

But the grass was soft beneath her feet, and the sun was warm on her skin, and the flowers were blooming all around her, and it was real. It was all real. Or at least it felt that way.

She had seen many wonders in her life. The impossible made possible. But this... this was something else. This was a world within a world, a creation conjured from nothing, a garden blooming in the heart of a stone pyramid.

'Can his magic create something like this?' She never thought it could be possible.

She looked around for a long moment, her breath catching in her throat. And then she found him.

Joffrey was sitting beneath the shade of a great tree, its branches spreading wide, its leaves a brilliant gold. He was leaning against the trunk, his eyes closed, his face peaceful. He looked younger than she had seen him in months…the lines of grief and exhaustion had faded from his face, replaced by something like calm.

She walked toward him.

The grass whispered beneath her feet. The flowers nodded their heads as she passed. She reached the tree and stood there, looking down at him.

His eyes opened and shifted to meet hers.

Daenerys felt her heart stop.

His eyes…those sharp green eyes she had known, the eyes she had looked into so many times…were no longer green. They were golden now. 

Brilliant, like molten gold, they glowed faintly in the shade of the tree as they became fixed on her face.

"Daenerys," he said, his voice soft.

She could not speak. She could only stare.

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