Chapter 29 — A Betrayer's Pledge
"Your Grace, you should look at this."
Drogon finally heard the voice he had been waiting for — Barristan's calm, dignified tone.
Daenerys accepted the scroll.
The moment she saw the contents, her expression shifted — shock mixed with deep suspicion.
She knew Varys.
It was he who had leaked her and Viserys's whereabouts to the usurper again and again, forcing the Targaryen siblings to flee from one end of the world to the other.
And now that same man… wished to pledge his loyalty?
She struggled to believe it. More importantly — she struggled to accept it.
"Ser Barristan, what do you make of this?" she asked.
"Varys is the one who hunted me and my brother all our lives. How am I supposed to accept his allegiance?
And if he truly intends to serve me, why not come in person? What is he afraid of — that I'll kill him?"
If Varys wanted you dead, you and your brother would have died a hundred times already.
Drogon's thought-voice cut sharply through her mind.
The spymaster's web stretched across three continents.
Only the fabled land of Ulthos beyond Asshai escaped his reach.
If he had truly wanted the Targaryen heirs dead, it would have been trivial.
The only one capable of relentlessly "hunting" them while making sure they always slipped away — without raising the king's suspicion — was Varys himself.
Daenerys froze as Drogon's silent words echoed in her head.
Memories of childhood flashed one after another —
Every time assassins closed in, they escaped by what seemed impossible good luck.
They were always a single step ahead.
Even the poisoned wine had been discovered before it reached her lips.
Was it truly luck?
Or had Varys been shielding them — while pretending to chase?
She didn't want to believe it.
But now she could believe it.
"Your Grace," Barristan said carefully, "I served in King's Landing for many years and still never fully understood him. Varys judges situations with great precision. He is subtle, calculating, rarely noble… but not truly wicked either."
Daenerys absorbed his explanation, her fingers tightening around the scroll.
If Drogon was right — if Varys had been subtly protecting her — then what was his goal?
A thought struck her. She looked up suddenly.
"He does not come personally. Instead he promises to guide us in King's Landing, to build us allies when the time is right, and to provide us intelligence from Slaver's Bay. Can we trust these promises?"
You're the ruler he has been waiting for.
Right now you're only his candidate — but if you continue freeing the oppressed, he will not betray you.
Drogon's certainty rang out inside her mind.
Hook, line, and sinker — she had been waiting to hear that answer.
Her question had been addressed to Barristan…
but the true respondent she sought was Drogon.
"I do not think he should be trusted blindly," Barristan finally answered, cautious.
He didn't know his queen had already gotten the answer she wanted — and that Drogon had walked directly into the trap without realizing.
Daenerys nodded decisively.
"Ser Barristan, bring me a banner. Drogon will carry it to Varys. I will accept his loyalty."
Her heart had not fully forgiven the man who once hunted her family — but Drogon had spoken, and Drogon had not once misled her.
If Varys wished to switch sides, she would allow it…
for now.
Absolutely not. I am not doing something that boring.
Drogon's thoughts flared in protest the moment Daenerys mentioned sending him to fulfill Varys's signal request.
"Your Grace, perhaps you should reconsider," Barristan suggested tactfully. "Varys's reputation is… troublesome."
"I'll be careful," Daenerys replied — firm, decisive, and clearly unwilling to entertain disagreement.
Barristan could only bow and go retrieve the banner.
A few minutes later, he returned holding a large black flag with a crimson three-headed dragon — the sigil of House Targaryen.
"Drogon," Daenerys said with a very deliberate smile, "take this banner and fly a lap over Astapor."
Drogon snorted loudly and turned his head away.
She repeated the order.
He ignored her again.
Daenerys clenched her jaw.
"Fine. Then Viserion will do it."
Drogon launched himself out of the room instantly, seized Viserion mid-air, and began barking instructions — gesturing with claws and wings like a furious drill sergeant. He showed him exactly how to grip the banner with both front talons and fly with it trailing behind.
This was the agreed-upon signal for Varys:
If Daenerys accepted his allegiance, a dragon would fly over Astapor carrying the Targaryen banner.
Watching Drogon teach another dragon, Barristan was stunned.
As a former Kingsguard to Aerys II, he knew Targaryen history and dragons well — yet he had never heard of a dragon that could shrink after maturity, let alone one with intelligence rivaling a human.
For the first time, he felt certain:
Daenerys Targaryen was the true future monarch of the Seven Kingdoms — the Dragon Queen in every sense.
Once Viserion understood, he eagerly tugged at the banner and lifted into the air. The moment he rose above the rooftops, citizens and Unsullied looked up in awe.
The flag cracked in the wind — the three-headed dragon seeming almost alive. News spread in seconds. People poured into the streets. Many former slaves fell to their knees, weeping as they prayed toward the dragon and the banner.
The effect was far larger than Daenerys could have imagined from what was meant to be a simple covert signal.
While Viserion circled the sky, Daenerys gathered her council in the temporary war room.
Everyone had seen the banner — and everyone was startled. None of them knew whether it was a show of strength or held deeper meaning.
Barristan stood at Daenerys's left, Missandei at her right.
Jorah and Bloodrider Rakharo stood farther back.
There was also a newcomer — a young man with sharp features, dark skin, and a soldier's posture. Drogon immediately recognized him:
Grey Worm — captain chosen by the Unsullied.
Even after Daenerys freed them, Grey Worm had insisted on keeping his slave name, saying it had brought him luck the day he met his queen.
Grey Worm caught Drogon staring back at him and froze for a few seconds.
Despite Drogon's diminutive form, he had seen Drogon single-claw bully Rhaegal and Viserion into howling defeats in midair. This was no hatchling — this was a terrifying warrior condensed into a deceptively small body.
Even he — trained from birth not to fear anything — stared longer than intended.
Daenerys rose once everyone was assembled.
"You all saw the banner in the sky," she began. "It was not a display. It was a signal — sent to the Spider in King's Landing. It means that I accept his allegiance."
Gasps rippled through the room — disbelief, caution, excitement.
And behind Daenerys on her shoulder, Drogon sat very still… pretending he had nothing to do with any of this.