Oops. This... took me exactly one year and I apologize. Sometimes we just gotta.

Fire. They called her the Unburnt, bride of fire, Mother of dragons, fire made flesh. The last Dragon. The last true Targaryen. The last, the only. She was alone. Once more, she was alone, a no one with nothing but a name. An exotic thing to display and then discard. Daenerys was surrounded by smoke and ashes. In the distance, she heard the roar of her children, ringing bells, screams, the spears of her Unsullied like a drumbeat on the ground, the sound of hooves, and a thousand voices called out for her. Mhysa. Mhysa. Mhysa. In that moment, these people had adored her. The way her khalasaar had adored her, chanting Rhaego, in love with the son of their Khal, Rhaego, the stallion who would mount the world.

Yes, people loved her for the things she could be, she thought as she wandered through the abandoned streets of the ghost town in her dream world, uncannily aware, once more, that this was but a dream. Who had ever loved just Daenerys? Maybe Jorah, who had seen everything she was, from the frightened girl that could barely last a day on horseback to the queen who would conquer the seven kingdoms.. to the fool who fell in love and lost it all.

She was awoken by a weight on her chest and she almost jolted up. Bright sunlight almost blinded her and she raised one arm above her face. The gray cat had snuggled down on her chest, rumbling in a content purr. With a relieved sigh, her head dropped back on the pillow and she ran her fingers through the soft fur of her new friend. Daenerys remained there for a few minutes before gently pushing the cat off her chest so she could sit up. It must be close to noon if the sun had risen this high already.

This was quite unlike her, really, given that she usually was one to rise quite early. Earlier than this, at least. Her back ached from sleeping on the hard, uncomfortable recliner. Slowly, she reached up and ran her fingertips over the small scar between her breasts. It was real, even though she wanted all of this to be a dream. Indeed, the last hours of her first life felt like a dream altogether, from the unspeakable storm of emotions that had raged in her chest to the exuberant joy when she finally stood before the throne that was hers by birthright and conquest both. She pushed the thought away and reminded herself that she must not look back.

A dress was draped over one of the chairs, a warm, dark brown. Her threefold dragon head pin was placed on top of it, and Daenerys assumed that it must be meant for her. She slipped out of the dressing gown Ygerna had given her last night and approached the vanity table. A bowl of water sat on the side stand next to it, and she picked up a piece of clean-looking cloth. Surely her host would not mind if she tried to get herself into a remotely presentable condition first.

Half an hour later, she'd changed into the dress and arranged her hair into a single, plain braid that would keep it out of her face. The dress was a bit too large for her, but it was fine. She carefully picked up an apple from a plate of fruit left unattended on one of the side tables. Hopefully, her host would not mind that either. Daenerys had half eaten the apple by the time Ygerna returned.

"Ah. You're awake. Master Brenyl has been waiting all morning to meet this apprentice I am bringing into his home. I told him that you were working on something that allowed for not interruption, but now… Remember, you are Daanara of Lys. An orphan girl who … oh, I don't know. I did not think that far yet. But you're resourceful, no? You will come up with something."

"I would not want to get you into trouble," Dany assured. Besides bringing her back, she now also offered shelter, even at the perils associated with lying to a rich, powerful man.

"Oh don't you worry." The raven-haired sorceress waved her hand in dismissal. "Be pretty and say something that sounds coherent enough. That's about the only thing you can do, unless you want to present yourself as who you are. Does that sound better?"

At least for a moment, Dany thought about it. With only one dragon and no ships, no armies and no real allies, however, what were the odds of her getting anywhere? Once more, she would depend on the goodwill of others. "No." Slowly, she shook her head. Then she must lie. While she was still not sure where to continue from here, it would be wisest to keep her head low. She picked up the three-headed dragon pin and looked at it wistfully. "Do you have a piece of string?"

Ygerna nodded, and as though she had guessed her thought, she offered a long string of leather. Daenerys could not wear it openly, but she would still wear the dragon over her heart. Even if, for now, she would have to assume another identity, she was still Daenerys Targaryen. She would never forget who she was.

Together, the two women stepped before the master of the house, a jovial, round man with slightly reddened face. "Master Brenyl. This is Daanara of Lys, my apprentice. She is under my responsibility, and already accounted for."

The man eyed her the way one would eye cattle. It was a gaze Dany was already all too familiar with. Countless men had eyed her like that before and she had thought that she finally reached a point where she would never again have to endure the gaze of a man who thought he was dealing with a pretty porcelain doll one could toy with. Aware of the customs of the Pentosi, though, she remained silent, waiting to be spoken to.

"An apprentice was never mentioned in your contract," Brenyl pointed out flatly.
"Some things never have been mentioned in my contract," Ygerna replied softly. "If I bring her here before you, it is because I trust you to see this budding young talent, and acknowledge that in order to achieve greatness, it can take a bit of kindness."

Daenerys knew that he was not staring at 'her good heart', and he certainly was not thinking of what great magicks this little Danaare might be capable of one day. No. "I wish to learn from the wisdom of Mistress Ygerna, Master Brenyl," she spoke up, keeping her head low enough to hide the quiet resentment in her eyes. This was not the time to be fierce and cold. She must be the little wallflower.

"And her presence will help you in your work for me?"
"Yes, Master Brenyl. I fully believe so."

A couple of moments passed in silence before the master nodded, at last. "Ygerna, you stay here, we have something to discuss. Allyn, take Daanara to the servant room on the second floor, next to the Mistress Sorceress' study."
The dark-haired servant from last night nodded, bowing twice, and led the way. Once they were sufficiently far from the room with the master, she noted: "You're very pretty. It's no surprise he chose to keep you."

"I am not that kind of woman," Daenerys insisted sharply. No, right now, she felt like she was through with men for good. "I am only here to learn."

Allyn snorted in response and muttered something along the lines of 'lucky bitch'. Though Dany felt a twist of annoyance at that, she did not comment any further. Though the choice of words irked her, the woman was not wrong. Not everyone was in a position to say No to a man. Without further conversation, Allyn led her back to the second floor and opened the door next to Ygerna's study. The room was small, with a simple bed, a small table and a chest for clothes, but it would do. A bit of light fell through the one window, and it was not fully terrible. "Thank you." First thing first, Daenerys picked up the key on the little bedside table. She should lock the door at night.

Slowly, she sat on the edge of the bed. In the house of Mopatis, she had lodged in one of the most beautiful rooms he had. She was a princess, then, and could be sold or married off for enough gold to be worth the royal treatment, she supposed. Was that not the reason why he had kept praising her brother? So he would be fooled to stay? No one did anything out of pure kindness. Not even Ygerna. Now, she was back to being a doll, a sweet puppet. However, this time, it was but an act. Dany had a bit of time to ponder before Ygerna returned with a knock to the door and she opened before waiting for a response.

"I wanted to ask you some questions. My study? I have pomegranate juice."

Daenerys would have come even without the promise of juice. This tiny room felt depressing, but it was hers. Together, they sat down on the balcony overseeing the gardens of the mansion. The fresh juice was sweet with just the right twist of sourness to it. Refreshing.

"So. I propose we start with the most obvious question. You are the Mother of Dragons. How did that come about? Now. I know this can be a touchy subject, such as magic is always bound to be due to its highly personal nature, but I assure you, this is all for science."

She hesitated, trying to decide just how much to tell. What could she safely omit while still satisfying the witch's curiosity? In the end, she retold the events that led to the birth of her children in a strongly shortened version. She could not bring herself to talk about her miscarriage or her husband's illness, and merely left it vaguely at the witch having been the one who caused the death of her husband and her child without elaborating further.

"And how did you know what to do? Why did you step into the fire with these eggs, instead of just leaving them there?"
"I just knew it." That was probably the most honest and complete thing Daenerys admitted in her accounts of the events. "It was a feeling that this is what I must do. Sometimes, when I looked at these eggs, I felt like I should place them in the coals of the fire. Something in me knew that we must be born in fire."

Ygerna nodded reverently. Whether she fully believed her story or not, Daenerys could see in her eyes that she believed this part, at least. Then, after almost a minute passed in charged silence, she asked: "Can you show me?"

Dany hesitated before standing up. "Alright." A single candle was lit inside and she glanced back to Ygerna questioningly. Was this candle important for anything? The witch joined her back inside and gave her a nod of encouragement. Daenerys returned the nod and took the long candle out of its socket to slowly tilt it until the molten wax dripped over her palm. The heat felt good, it felt like freedom. Her glory has been forged in fire. She wanted to be engulfed in it. She wished she could burn down and be born anew from her own ashes, a new woman, wiser and stronger than the one who had failed before she even had a chance to sit on the Iron Throne. Slowly, she brought the candle back into an upright position and lowered her palm over the flame. However, she stopped herself before actually getting too close and extinguishing the candle.

Finally, she looked up, and she saw genuine amazement in Ygerna's eyes. As Daenerys set the candle back in its silver halter, the witch placed her hands over her heart and began speaking in a tongue she could not decipher. Slowly, Ygerna turned her arms outside, away from her chest, both palms glowing with a warm light, and brought her hand together. In that cup, a small flame sparked and Daenerys watched with fascination as a new fire came to life between the hands of the sorceress. Suddenly, however, that single spark came to life and turned into a flame that singed Ygerna's hands. With a pained cry, she snapped out of her trance-like state and her flame vanished. After a second of delay, Daenerys grabbed a carafe of water standing on the side table and poured the water over the witch's reddened hands.

Ygerna cussed and hissed in pain as the water poured over her burnt palms. She let out some most unladylike words before turning to her jars of salves, oils and balms and smeared a clear, glossy substance over her palms. "It's been ages since this accident happened!", she complained as though her trick has been truly ruined. Daenerys felt impressed, despite the unfavourable outcome. Though fire could not burn her, she could not control it either. More importantly, she could not call it forth from nothing.

"You brought magic back into this world, Daenerys Stormborn," Ygerna noted, wrapping a piece of cloth as makeshift bandage around her right hand. "Maybe your mere presence amplifies it. Usually, the magic around us is hardly enough to call forth a heartflame. But here, in front of you, it sparks to life and yearns to burn."

Though Dany did not understand it, she could feel the powerful emotions that made Ygerna's voice tremble. Her eyes sparkled in an excitement Dany found most flattering. However, there was one thing she did not see coming – "Daenerys Stormborn. Why must we be liars? You might have the greatest magic potential of our time. You are magic. Please, honour me, and become my apprentice for real. Let me make you the greatest witch maybe not only of our days, but of all time!"

Daenerys was silenced by surprise, and a multitude of conflicting thoughts raced through her mind as she stood there, dumbfounded by the sudden and passionate declaration of intent. Indeed, through the fiery passion in Ygerna's voice, she, too, felt a certain excitement. Why not? Brought back into this world, far from her allies and her enemies both, she stood aimless and helpless. Maybe this additional knowledge she could acquire would help her once she figured out where to go.

"Alright. I will be your apprentice, Ygerna." Not only because she did not know what to do, but because she would not want to refuse the woman who had brought her back to life. With an excited squeal, the witch launched herself at her, wrapping her arms around Dany into a surprisingly strong hug.

"This will be the best!", the witch cheered, completely out of her usually stern demeanour, and Daenerys laughed, returning the hug awkwardly. It seemed like she made a friend, too.