Chapter 29: Conquering Volantis

Chapter 29: Conquering Volantis

Daenerys's POV

The baby blue sky stretched overhead, adorned with lazy drifting clouds, while the soft creaks and groans of ships' rigging filled my ears. Men rushed about the docks, barking orders as they loaded crates into the cargo hold, preparing for one last conquest before our return home. My heart raced with excitement, even though doubts nagged at the back of my mind. I longed for family, and seeing my nephew filled me with complex emotions.

My nephew's soft violet eyes and shimmering silver hair, tousled by the wind, captivated me. I remembered the day before when the court, including my advisors and his, watched him take off into the sky on Rhaegal. He appeared a bit small for such a flight, but considering his confinement, he did well. I couldn't help but recall that day as I gazed at him, flying confidently on Rhaegal's back.

My nephew's eyes were locked on Rhaegal as I looked down at him from Dragon's back, feeling the warmth of the smooth scales beneath me. Rhaegal lowered his body, and his tail swayed with anticipation. His bronze eyes sparkled like rubies in the light as Aegon brushed sweat-dampened hair from his brow, showing hints of nervousness.

I watched intently as he approached Rhaegal with deliberate steps as if he had done this countless times. It was only his second flight, but he appeared ready, and I couldn't help but notice the cocky grin that graced his lips. It was a stark contrast to his initial uncertainty when he stumbled onto Rhaegal's wing.

Impatience drove him forward as Rhaegal jerked his shoulders slightly, urging Aegon to climb faster. I sensed his eagerness as he struggled up to Rhaegal's wing. He seemed ready for flight, and as I watched from the balcony, Jon Connington, his false father, beamed with pride and love.

Aegon settled firmly on Rhaegal's back, doing his best not to fall. He looked over at me with a mix of wonder and confusion, and I couldn't suppress a light chuckle.

"What do I hold on to?" he asked, a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

I turned my head to hide a smile before replying, "Hold on to whatever you can. Just know that you'll develop calluses, and your skin will toughen over time."

As I spoke, I remembered the stinging pain in my hand the first time I rode Drogon, but it was nothing compared to the hours of riding my silver mare with leather reins. Those experiences had toughened my skin.

With a hint of panic, Aegon gripped two bronze spike-tipped protrusions, and with a sudden lurch, they soared into the sky. The wind whipped around them as they ascended, and I observed them from above. Aegon seemed unsteady at times but managed well for his second flight.

Drogon and Viserion chased after Rhaegal, and the thrill of flying over the city filled my heart with joy. People on the ground gazed up in astonishment, not used to seeing anyone other than me riding a dragon. Despite not being on the Iron Throne and being far from my homeland, I felt content, surrounded by the only family I had left, and it brought tears of happiness to my eyes.

"Your grace, your ship and cabin are ready. We should talk inside," Ser Barristan said politely, pulling me back from my memories. He helped me descend from the dragon, his twilight blue eyes filled with gentleness as he assisted me.

At the head of the ship stood a gilded golden dragon figure, snarling viciously, reminiscent of a Dragon in the fighting pits. My smile didn't waver as I crossed the bridge and descended the steep wooden steps.

Inside the cabin, I was greeted by Ser Jorah, whose warm smile always brightened my mood. Beside him was my nephew, Aegon, his cocky grin briefly causing my smile to waver. He was only a year older than me, but I expected him to be more mature.

Tyrion, Varys, Missandei, Grey Worm, and Jon Connington, the true lord of the Griffins, all stood in the cabin, their heads bowed as they studied the map of Volantis.

Volantis, the oldest of the nine Free Cities, was our next target. For every nobleman in the city, there were nine slaves, and I intended to end that injustice. Once the city was under our control, we would free the slaves and rebuild the parts left in disrepair.

I noticed Daario Naharis was absent, the leader of the Second Sons and a man with whom I had a complicated relationship. "Where is Daario?" I asked with a pointed tone.

"Right here, Your Grace. I had to get through a large number of men before I could make it down here," Daario's smooth and husky voice forced me to shudder as his lips curled into an amused grin.

I gave him a look of indifference, and it seemed that Aegon had picked up on the history between us with just those few words. Arrogant, certainly, but he appeared to understand things quickly. A smart boy.

"Can we focus on the conquest of Volantis?" I glared coldly at him, and he responded with that same coy, smug smile.

I turned my attention to the map, examining Volantis and the smaller city of Volon Therys. I didn't know if I could expect their support in freeing the state or if they would attempt to resist my rule once I took it. I didn't want to have to worry about it.

Glancing over at Daario, I considered that he was the only one I could afford to lose. Moreover, it wouldn't bode well for a man in love with me to be around me in Westeros. I needed to form political alliances in the Seven Kingdoms, and that wouldn't be possible if he was giving me those eyes.

"Once we take the city, Daario, you will stay there and oversee the appointment of the three new triarchs. After things are stable and we don't have to worry about interference from the other cities, you will join us across the Narrow Sea."

As I spoke those words, I could see the way Ser Jorah smiled. Daario, on the other hand, stared at me wide-eyed and utterly annoyed, but his defiance seemed to die down quickly.

"Yes, Your Grace. I await the time you summon me to be at your side when you take the Iron Throne." I gave him a glib nod before taking a deep breath and adopting a more commanding and queen-like tone. "Then let's get this war council meeting underway."

I watched as Rhaegal lowered his body to the ground, his jade wings flapping, and he seemed to have grown more quickly than before. Gracefully, I climbed onto Drogon, but Aegon stumbled as he managed to make it onto his dragon's back.

Purrs filled the air as Viserion screeched overhead, impatiently demanding that we hurry up. I couldn't help but chuckle at his impatience. "Come then. Are you ready for dragon warfare?"

My tone was sweet, but he responded in a cocky and amused tone. "I have fought in battles on the ground with weapons flying at me. Can you say the same?"

He cocked a brow gently, his tone dripping with arrogance as he issued a command in High Valyrian. "Sōvegon."

Rhaegal took to the sky, and I turned to see the Unsullied, all 8,000 of them, dressed in shimmering black leather and spiked helmets. Short swords hung from their hips, and they carried spears and shields.

"Sōvegon," I repeated, and Drogon took flight with a mighty flap of his wings, the sound of leather skin beating against the air drowning out all other noise.

"What took you so long, dear aunt?" Aegon's tone was teasing, still filled with that same arrogance. This was only his second time flying a dragon, and he acted as if he already knew everything.

A mocking grin formed on my face as I turned to give him a rueful look, but then his sweaty brows knitted together, and he vomited onto Rhaegal's flapping wings. The vile stench filled my own nose, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Where has all that confidence gone? I thought you had been in battle before. This should be a breeze for you, sweet nephew."

A sly smile played at my lips as he gave me a rueful look, then leaned over carefully, trying not to vomit on his dragon's wings as he expelled more vomit onto the ground below. I chuckled a bit more as the fires from the dragons died down, leaving only ash in the wake of the men.

Even from this distance, I could see three men watching from a large looming building made of pure white marble.

"Give up now, and you may keep your lives. Throw down your weapons, free the slaves, abolish slavery for all time, and you may live. I swear it upon my house. Deny me, and I will have you executed for your crimes against your fellow men."

The wise masters disgusted me. Their very sight made me want to vomit as much as the scent of burning flesh and bowels had made Aegon vomit. But I turned to look at him, rubbing his mouth with the back of his gauntlet, his face stern and cold. At least he had the sense to be embarrassed, but I hoped it was for how arrogantly he had been acting as well as for the vomit. Either way, it was a long journey back to Westeros, and I had to learn to at least get along with him.