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Daenerys Targaryen was anything other than weak. With the death of her husband and unborn son, came the birth of her three dragons, and the claiming of her title of “the Unburnt”. Jorah remained at her side, as did the Unsullied, Grey Worm and Missandei, the Dothraki warriors, and Jon Snow. No one else mattered to her other than her three children and her closest friends.
“My Queen, without the Iron Fleet, King’s Landing is left unguarded by anything other than the archers and Scorpions on the wall. The dragons can easily take them out so long as they stay swift in flight and dodge the arrows that are fired at them.” Jorah commented, walking beside Daenerys as she approached her children. “Scorpions are slow to load, if you need to take that into consideration.”
“I will. Thank you, Jorah.” Daenerys replied, glancing up at him with a soft smile on her pale lips. “For everything.”
“Khaleesi… You say that like you may not return.” Jorah noted, a frown settling on his face. “Why?”
“Everything is possible, Jorah… You know that.” Dany replied, her gaze turning to Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion. “Viserion barely escaped death when we rescued the Night’s Watch from the White Walkers. Rhaegal barely escaped death when the Iron Fleet tried to shoot them down from the sky. I have had assassination attempts on my life several times over the years that we have traveled together, and you have saved me every time. You know, as well as I, that there is a possibility that I may not come back.”
Jorah studied her, taking in her somber expression and straight posture, the way her eyes focused on the three dragons standing off in the distance, studying them both. The sound of footsteps behind them brought Jorah’s gaze from his Queen and over to the dark eyes of Jon Snow as he approached. Jorah moved then, intercepting Jon before he could reach Dany.
“Take care of her, boy… Do not let a hair on her head come to harm, or so help me.”
“You needn’t worry, Ser Jorah.” Jon replied, letting Jorah’s threat hang in the air between them. “I will protect her and keep her safe.”
“You’d better.” Jorah replied before moving back to Dany’s side.
Jon watched the elder man as he spoke with Dany once more, his hard eyes focused on the Targaryen Queen before he embraced her, holding her close to his chest as his arms wrapped around her shoulders. She returned his embrace, holding him until finally pulling away, gazing back up into his eyes. She brought her hand to his cheek, brushing her thumb across his skin, and Jon could only assume that she had brushed away a tear from Jorah’s cheek. He never thought he would see the man so emotional, and it tugged at his own heart. Jorah gazed at him then, as did Dany, and he finally moved towards them, coming to stand at Dany’s side.
“Be safe, Khaleesi.” Jorah commented; his eyes focused on her as she climbed onto Drogon’s massive neck. “I shall be here when you return.”
Dany nodded her head then, afraid to speak in case her voice shook, and took off into the blue sky above them. Jon followed close behind, straddled on Rhaegal’s neck, and Viserion right after them. Jorah watched them, and the sailing ships, until both disappeared beyond the horizon. He prayed she returned safe.
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The wall surrounding King’s Landing was covered in flames and smoke, the Scorpion’s lay destroyed and smoldering, the three dragons sat upon the watchtowers while the Unsullied and Dothraki stood facing the Lannister knights.
Cersei stood before the window overlooking the city, her eyes focused on the Targaryen Queen and her children as they stood facing her, their eyes focused solely on the Red Keep. Qyburn insisted that Cersei find cover, that she escape while the bells rang their surrender, but she stood fast, watching Daenerys in awe and fear.
“My Lady, please retreat to Maegor’s Holdfast. You’ll be safe there.” Qyburn tried again, his eyes pleading with Cersei as the Queen looked at him. “Please, think of your unborn.”
Her eyes widened with fear then, her arms immediately shielding her abdomen as she looked out over the city; out to the armies and dragons. Her heart hammered in her chest as fear gripped her being. She couldn’t die in the Keep. She couldn’t die before her baby had a chance to live. She turned to face Qyburn, sorrow on her face.
“Fine… I shall take refuge there until the threat passes.” She announced, following behind him as they descended into the depths of the Keep.
The Hound arrived then, standing before Cersei, Qyburn and the Lannister soldiers. He demanded to face his brother, slaying Cersei’s soldiers when they rushed him. She told The Mountain to stay at her side, but he ignored her. When Qyburn attempted to press the undead man, he crushed his head against the rubble, never once taking his eyes off The Hound. Cersei continued to flee, descending the stairs until she came to the Map Room.
Jaime intercepted her in the Map Room, a sigh of relief passing his chapped lips as his eyes caught sight of his sister and lover. She ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck as he held her close, placing a tender kiss to her temple as they embraced.
“Come… We can escape through the Dragon Pit and make our way to safety.” He spoke, taking her hand in his.
“What about Maegor’s Holdfast? Isn’t it the safest place in the Keep?” She questioned; her heels pressed tightly to the floor. She didn’t want to move for fear it would end in disaster.
“Tyrion arranged our escape. There’s a boat waiting for us at the docks beyond the Pit.” He pressed, urging Cersei to move until she was following behind him.
“Tyrion? Why would he do that for us?”
“Believe it or not, he doesn’t want to see either of us die.” Jaime replied, a soft sigh escaping his lips as his eyes softened. “He is our brother after all.”
Cersei didn’t reply, nor did she make an underhanded joke or quip at their younger brother’s actions. She was merely thankful that she was going to get her chance to live. That her baby – their baby – was going to get the chance to live. She may never set foot in the Red Keep, or sit on the Iron Throne ever again, but she was okay with that, so long as her baby lived.
Back at the wall, Daenerys kept watch of the bell tower, waiting for the signal of surrender. She had instructed her men to stand down once the bells rang; had instructed Jon and Grey Worm to escort them back out to the ships once the bells had been rung. She scanned over the city, holding the triplets back as they shifted and growled around her. She knew the story of the Red Keep, and of the Dragon Pit beneath the surface. Knew how many dragons had been slaughtered while chained and muzzled beneath the Keep. Her heart wept for the loss of life, and the loss of the Sigil of her House.
The bells rang then, chiming through the city and grabbing everyone’s attention. The Lannister soldiers knew their defeat, and tossed their swords to the ground, shoulders slumped in relief that no one had died past the walls of the city. Jon and Grey Worm kept their end of Dany’s instructions, leading the men back outside the city and towards the boats, watching as the young Queen and her dragons flew towards the Keep. They would begin to head back to Dragonstone once Daenerys destroyed the Keep, just as they had all discussed would happen. The Throne needed to be destroyed, and the only way to do that was with the destruction of the structure around it. It would be easy enough to accomplish with three dragons.
Cersei and Jaime watched from their boat in the bay as Daenerys and her dragons descended upon the Keep, her children destroying the building in order to get to the mounted Throne within. When the wall of the Throne room was blasted away, Drogon, largest of the three, settled beside the Throne. Dany glanced over the seat of smelted swords, the place where her father once sat at the peak of his rule, and where her father was killed at the end of his rule.
“Dracarys.”
Drogon began to burn the Throne, followed soon by both Rhaegal and Viserion, melting the seat into a puddle of iron and steel, smoldering and dripping over the stairs to the floor of the chamber. With the destruction of the thing she had once sought after for most of her life, she turned Drogon back towards the direction of Dragonstone, urging his brothers to follow them.
Jon waved her down as Drogon prepared to fly past him, but she signaled the large dragon down to the shore. She slid from his neck and approached Jon, immediately brought into a tight embrace that she tearfully returned.
“I didn’t know if you would follow after us… I needed to stay and wait for you.” He whispered, holding her tighter as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
“I wasn’t sure if I should have sat on the Throne or not… I… I couldn’t bring myself to do so, knowing that my father died sitting in that very spot.” She choked, a strained laugh pushing past her lips. “Perhaps I’m not meant to rule a nation like Westeros.”
“Perhaps, or perhaps not, but you are worthy of ruling wherever your heart leads you.” Jon replied, pulling away to gaze into her eyes, brushing her tears away from her cheeks. “Perhaps we should travel back to the Valyrian Freehold and retake Slaver’s Bay.”
“We could, but I don’t yet know if I want to sit on a throne and rule over cities.” She pulled free of his arms and walked to the shoreline, gazing out over the vastness of the Bay. “Perhaps I shall simply fly with my children until we find somewhere to call home.”
Jon came to stand before her once more, cupping her cheeks in his hands before leaning in to capture her lips in a tender kiss, pulling apart moments later and pressing his forehead to hers.
“Wherever you decide to go, I will go with you… We all will.” He whispered, reassuring her of her place in their hearts. She placed her hands over his, a smile on her lips.
“My heart swells with warmth at your declaration, Jon… It truly does.”
“I would hope so, because I do mean it.”
“Come… We should return to Dragonstone.” She spoke, her eyes still focused on his. “Ser Jorah will have a fit if the ships arrive before I do.”
They both laughed at that, knowing full well that he simply cared for her a great deal, and she had always seen him as her guard and protector. Jon knew, and understood, just how deep Jorah’s love and devotion to Dany went. He felt the same way himself as he stood in her presence, held her in his arms, and flew beside her on Rhaegal. No amount of water would ever be able to douse the passionate flames that burned in his heart for her. He followed her over to the dragons and climbed onto Rhaegal’s neck, following behind her as Drogon lifted her into the air.
“What a family we make.” He whispered, glancing down at the bronze and green dragon, patting his broad neck. “Your mother, myself, and your two brothers… We’re quite the dynamic.”
Rhaegal let loose a deep roar, with Viserion and Drogon roaring in return, all three of them happy and content as they soar on the wind beneath their wings. Daenerys looks between her children, a contented smile on her face.
They were her life now. Her family would be whole again soon enough. She was finally beginning to find her happiness.