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Queen Daenerys Targaryen woke up in cold sweat, her eyes wild and frantic, her hand gripping her chest, bundling her nightgown tightly in her fist.
Jon groaned beside her, and cracked an eye open.
“Daenerys? Are you alright?”
She blinked once, twice, and looked around her in confusion.
“Wha- Where…” she crinkled her nose, her hand coming up to her hair, as a headache hit her full force.
Jon was really concerned now, sitting up in bed, putting a hand on her back. “Shall I call a maester, Love?”
Daenerys took a deep breath, and Jon saw her eyes spark with anger.
Where had that come from?
“No, call a council instead.”
“A council? Dany, it’s well past the middle of the ni-”
“Do I look like I care, Jonathan? Call a meeting. Now.”
—
The important people at Winterfell were all gathered in the War Room, and they were so many, they almost didn’t fit.
The Queen’s hand, Tyrion, as well as Missandei, Grey Worm, Jorah and Varys were sitting around the war table, on the only five seats available, not one of them willing to give up the comfort for some of the higher-ups.
Early bird gets the worm. Wasn’t their fault they arrived late.
There was also Sansa Stark, Arya, and Bran, the three of them huddled near the door, not trusting of the Queen calling such a sudden meeting. What if this was just to execute them? They didn’t trust her, the foreign whore.
Of course, they wouldn’t voice these exact thoughts out loud, as Jon had somewhat of a… temperament, when it came to the silver-haired woman.
Jamie Lannister and Brienne of Tarth were also there, trying, and failing, to look like they weren’t fucking three minutes ago.
Lady Melisandre, looking as refreshed as ever, was also present, standing regally next to the fireplace.
Davos was there too, being Jon’s “hand”, and a father figure to basically everyone in the room because all of them had daddy issues.
Sandor Clegane was leaning against the wall and snoring softly, and Podrick was standing beside him, finding it too awkward to stand next to Brienne.
The door slammed open, and all of them were snapped out of their respective stupors, Clegane waking up with a yelp, the room being awfully silent before the sudden noise.
Tormund made his way inside, yawning dramatically.
“What the shit is this all about?” He asked, scratching his behind.
Brienne silently thanked the gods he wasn’t naked, at least.
“I’ll tell you what the shit this is all about, you gigantic idiot. Move, you’re blocking the door.” A voice resounded behind him that made him, the Great Tormund Giantsbane, jump in fear, and rapidly move to the left.
Daenerys Targaryen stomped angrily into the room, barefoot, wearing nothing but a V-necked nightgown. She would’ve never stepped outside of her room wearing only that, even if it was full of assassins, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Also, in her anger, she had completely forgotten.
Jon walked in behind her, shrugging helplessly to everyone who was looking at him, terrified and confused.
“I had a vision,” The Queen started, only to be interrupted by Bran.
“How is that possible?” he asked in that impassive voice of his, and Sansa visibly cringed. It was nice knowing you, brother.
“You’re not the only magical person in the world. Deal with it,” she snapped angrily at him, and he had the decency to shut it.
“As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, I had a vision. And before anyone else can brilliantly chime in, I’ve had visions before, and I’ll let you judge for yourselves if this one is real or not. Let me start with the one that stung the fucking most,” she snarled, making everyone flinch. Where was the regal Queen who did not, under any circumstances, behave out of line?
“Tyrion. Tyrion fucking Lannister. Seven Hells, I’m the dumbest person alive. Your last name alone should have prevented me from making you my hand. And yet, I fucking did. And for what. Your recent decisions have all been disastrous. DISASTROUS.”
Tyrion visibly flinched, and everyone else was looking at him with sympathy. He would be the first to be Dracarys’ed, they just knew it.
“What the actual fuck, man? I don’t even know where I want to begin with this. You’d side with this red bitch, over me? Your Queen?” She gestured to Sansa, who jumped at the sudden attention, and the insult.
“You-” She began, but Daenerys shot her a look so dark, she immediately went silent.
“Oh, I’m getting to you later, Sansy or whatever the fuck your name is. But you, Tyrion, I cannot, in simple, mere human words, express how much of a bad fucking hand you are, so I’ll use the simplest way of doing so. YOU’RE A BAD HAND.”
Tyrion looked taken aback, shaken to his core.
“Every time someone spoke ill of me in front of you, you let it slide. I don’t know how to tell you that you should be loyal to your queen. LOYAL. Do you know what that means? It means the same feelings you have for your fucking psychotic family, even though you swear on all the gods that you don’t.”
Daenerys cleared her throat, and put on her best serious face. “Tyrion, I have made a decision. A very important one. I am storming King’s Landing tomorrow. Alone, on dragonback. With the sole intent of burning down the Red Keep and everyone in it.”
“Your Grace! This is— There is still a chance! Perhaps Cersei will surrender, after all, we-”
Daenerys stared at him, jaw hanging open.
“Dude, you’re… you’re proving my fucking point,” she put a hand to her forehead, closing her eyes tiredly. “You’re not Hand anymore.”
“But your Grace-”
“Oh my goodness, spare me, please. I don’t deserve all this shit, I really don’t,” she sighed aloud to herself, then looked at the Redheaded Stark.
Sansa gulped visibly. Oh no…
Brienne tensed, going to stand in front of Sansa protectively, her hand on the hilt of her sword.
“Listen, you giant… Person. I have nothing against you. Move aside.”
Brienne knew she was making a mistake, but she had taken an oath. “I’m afraid I cannot do that.”
Daenerys sighed, resigned. “Fine, you wanted it. He fucked you and he said he loved you, but he’s going back to his sister, first thing after the battle. He’s still in love with her. Move on, sister. And, move aside too, while you’re at it.”
Tormund burst out into laughter.
Brienne’s jaw hung open, her eyes flitting to Jaime, who looked like a deer caught in headlights.
“Is she right?” She asked him, an edge to her voice.
The Kingslayer gulped, and Brienne had her answer. She moved aside, her eyes narrowed and fixated on Jaime.
“Now, onto you Sansy-”
“Sansa,” Arya said, anger burning in her eyes.
“Interrupt me again, you fucking underdeveloped child, and I’ll snap your tiny fucking neck in half.”
Arya blanched.
“Sansa. Man, I don’t even know where to begin with you. What have I ever done to you?”
Sansa clenched her fists, trying to give herself some courage. “You’re a foreign dictator who wants to impose her rule on us Northerners-”
“Okay, first of all, honey, three or four years ago, you wanted to go to South so badly, you begged your daddy to let you fuck the yellow-haired psychopath. Don’t give me that ‘Northerners’ crap. Second, I did not impose my rule on you. I don’t understand how Tyrion considers you so smart- wait, no, actually I do. He’s a fucking idiot himself. You guys recognize your intellectual abilities in one another. Outstanding, incredible,” she drawled, slow-clapping.
“Don’t you dare speak of my father-”
“Your father wanted to save my life so badly, he was ready to betray that fat fuck he called his king. Spare me. He didn’t know me, and he loved twice as much as he has ever loved you.”
Sansa’s anger was shimmering in her eyes, unshed tears lining her lashes.
“She’s not wrong,” Bran shrugged, eliciting another laugh from Tormund.
“This shit is wild, man,” he whispered, but was promptly ignored.
“Bran!” Arya chided, and Bran shrugged again.
“Father did go against Robert Baratheon many times regarding the prize he put on the Queen’s head.”
“Thank you, creepy teenager.” Daenerys rolled her eyes, before continuing. “I brought my entire army to this wretched, godforsaken place, only for the “Northerners” to treat us like garbage. Who’s the garbage exactly, the gigantic army with two Dragons, or the few old balding men who couldn’t get this ugly fucking castle back from the Boltons, and had to use the Vale instead?”
“She ain’t wrong,” Tormund chimed in, and was promptly ignored, again.
“I really, wholeheartedly thought we could be friends, or sisters. But again, I was being the dumbest person alive. I didn’t realize you would be Cersei Lannister 2.0. I’ve never had a family or a sister before, and I thought ‘hey, maybe it’s finally looking up for you, Daenerys! Your life has been horseshit until now, maybe it’s finally turning around!’ But no, of course not, it was not turning around. Fuck you, honestly, Sansy.
“I could’ve ignored your brother, left you all to fucking die, and when the armies of the dead came knocking at my door in King’s Landing -because of course, I would’ve taken the city- I would’ve dealt with it then, with my THREE-” she cast a side-eye at Jon, who hung his head. “Dragons, and the knowledge that Dragonglass kills them, because that was literally the first thing your idiot of a brother said to me, when we first met.”
She turned to Jon for a second. “Jon, honey, that is what we call valuable intel. You do not give valuable intel to a stranger you’ve never met before and who could use it against you.”
“But-”
“Oh my gods, Jonathan, shut up and be pretty, okay?” Jon only nodded.
“I could’ve done that but instead what do I do? Out of the pure goodness of my heart, I decide to come freeze my ass off to save this gloomy place, only to have this in return? Very nice, thank you.”
“We could’ve done very well without you,” Sansa huffed, and everyone looked at her incredulously.
“Really? Really, Sansy?” Daenerys sighed heavily. Sansa hesitated.
“What was it you said to Tyrion in the Crypts?” She put a hand under her chin, making a show of thinking. Then, she snapped her fingers. “You told shitface here-” she gestured to Tyrion, “that it wouldn’t work between you two because of me. “Your divided loyalties would become a problem.” Well, congrats to you both. He has no loyalties to me anymore. You guys deserve each other. Two scheming dumbasses who think they’re so ahead of everyone and on top of everything, but you’re actually not.”
Tyrion flushed red, and looked at Sansa, who looked like she wanted to cry even more.
“Oh, Missandei, you answered her by saying “yes, without the Dragon Queen, there would be no problem at all. We’d all be dead already.” Bless your heart, Missy. I love you,”
Missandei, who had been sitting silently amused all that time, smiled at her softly. “Love you too!”
“Okay, I think I’m done with you. You can break down and cry, if you want.”
And Sansy did just that.
“Onto you, you bald fuck,” She turned to Varys, who looked visibly shocked.
“What have I done, my queen?”
“What have you done? Let me tell you what you have done. You poisoned my food for weeks on end, after I had lost a child, Missandei, and Jorah.”
She stopped for a second, and looked at Missandei and Jorah, who were both extremely pale.
“Yes, yes, you both die. But don’t worry, I’ll avoid it this time. I’m not going through that shit again, oh no.” she turned back to Varys, who looked more interested in the rest of the story, than shocked at the fact that he would try to poison his queen. “You thought Jon had a better claim to the throne because he has a dick. So you tried to have me fucking poisoned, while I was mourning the death of my child, my best friend, and my most trusted knight,” she was shaking in anger, while everyone else in the room looked shocked at the revelation.
“Okay, yeah, that’s an extremely shitty thing to do,” Arya nodded, and Daenerys looked at her.
“Oh, it is, especially when you know the rest. My blood is extremely resistant to poisons, so he kept adjusting and upping the dosages. I was in agony for weeks. WEEKS, YOU PARFUMED CREEP. I was mourning, depressed and probably pregnant -not sure- and you were poisoning me.”
Jon sprung up at that, his own anger palpable. “Where was I?”
“Uh, after breaking up with me? I have no idea, my dearest. Apparently, you couldn’t fathom the idea of being with me anymore because of your parentage.”
Everyone raised their eyebrows at the word “parentage” but only Jon and Samwell Tarly, who was also there, but is such a forgettable character I forgot he even existed, paled.
“So, you know…” Jon whispered.
“Oh, I do. And I was… Not happy, but I accepted it. I wanted us to rule together, to restore our house. But, you didn’t want that. And, that’s okay, I don’t blame you. Not everybody wants to fuck their aunt. But, I told you not to tell anyone, because it would cause us problems. And what did you immediately go ahead and do, Jon?”
Jon could only assume he went and told somebody.
“You went and told fucking Sansy over there. Knowing very well she would tell everyone, because she fucking HATES MY GUTS, JON. You dumb fuck. You dumb. Fuck. You made her swear under those red trees, whatever they’re called, and you thought that she would keep the oath. Because that’s what Starks do, right? Well, spoiler alert, Jonny, she’s not a Stark, she’s Cersei Lannister in disguise.”
“Oh, side thought. Jon is a Targaryen, for anybody wondering, and someone seize that one-handed traitor before he fucks off to his sister’s.”
Brienne groaned, having knocked out Jaime about 15 minutes ago. “I’m on top of it.”
“Perfect. So, Jon, as I was saying. Just as I predicted, because I’m apparently the only person with a fucking brain here, Sansy told Tyrion. The fucking dumbass told Varys. Varys started poisoning me, and possibly your child. Congrats, idiot. Best thing is, when you finally arrived at Dragonstone and saw me looking like a fucking corpse, all you could do is reject me some more. Literally, all I could’ve used is a hug, or like a pat on the shoulder? I don’t know, man. I was in mourning. Fucking…” She took a deep breath, calming herself.
“So, Varys, in short, first thing you did when you found out there was a person with a claim to the throne AND a dick, you jumped ship. Is it because of the dick, Varys? Do you have some kind of inferiority complex due to the fact of not having a dick? Is it just you being stupid? Is it just blatant sexism? Is it because you wanted his dick? Are you gay, Varys? Because that’s fine, dude, but just because your thirsty ass thought Jon Dick was hot doesn’t mean I’m less suited to be queen. Gods know I’m a way more skilled ruler than he is. Dumb shit thought Sansa would keep a secret of that magnitude. That alone should give you the hint that he has the IQ of a squirrel.”
The people who had received a scolding -light word to describe it, but okay- were all looking to the ground, ashamed.
“I just want to know what the fuck have I ever done to you, all of you, personally. Have I offended you in some way? Killed your family? Kidnapped your dog?”
“You’ve killed my family,” Samwell finally interjected, finding the courage in his forgettable self, somehow.
“Yes, I’ve killed the father who hated you because you were fat, and made you choose between the wall and being killed to make your dumb fuck of a brother heir instead of you. What a loss for humanity. Such kind and brilliant souls departed this world because of my atrocities of actions.”
“My brother had done nothing!”
“Your brother aided your father in treason. They betrayed their Liege Lord and chose to follow that Whore Queen. They pillaged the Reach, raped its citizens, and stole from its lands. Was I supposed to give them a slight slap on the wrists? I gave them a choice. Bending the knee, or being executed, AS DO ALL THE FUCKING RULERS IN THIS FUCKING WORLD, but somehow it’s only a problem when I do it. Your father chose to die, and your idiotic brother, mostly because he has no personality of his own and therefore could not make his own decisions without going back to daddy and following daddy, chose to die with him.”
Samwell’s lower lip trembled, and Daenerys’ eyes narrowed. “I’d say sorry, except I’m not. Moving on,” she turned to look at the rest of the occupants in the room.
“Grey, you’re amazing. I name you master of War, because you deserve it. Missandei, I name you Hand of the Queen, as I should have long ago. Jorah, thank you for everything, my sweet bear. I name you captain of the Queen’s Guard, because I can think of no one else more suited to protect me. Davos-”
The sailor gulped and looked up at her, standing too rigid for it to be natural.
“You’re okay. I have nothing against you, and I like how you called me a ‘just woman’. I appreciate it. Thank you, dad.”
The room fell in silence, as Daenerys thought of more things to say.
Tormund chuckled. Daenerys turned to look at him.
“What?”
“You called Ser Davos Dad.”
“What? No, no, I said thank you, Davos.” Daenerys flushed.
“Yes, you did,” Missandei nodded, trying to contain her laughter.
“Do you see me as a father figure, your Grace?” Davos asked, a small smile playing on his lips.
“NO! No, if anything, I see you as… a competent advisor. That’s all.”
“Okay then…” Daenerys sighed in relief. “-honey.”
Daenerys turned to look at him with a scandalized look on her face.
“Would you like to discuss it during a nice walk in the forest?”
“I- I’d actually like that,” Daenerys smiled, small but there, but then seemed to remember that she was boiling.
“Tormund! How could I forget you, you shit?”
“What have I done?!” He asked, fearing for his emotional safety. The Queen was dropping some bombs, and he was pretty certain a few people were emotionally scarred for life.
““He climbed on a fucking dragon and fought. What kind of person climbs on a fucking dragon? A madman! Or a king!” That’s what you fucking said, during the feast, after we defeated the night king. You fucking piece of shit, WHO CAME TO SAVE YOUR SORRY ASSES WHO WERE TRAPPED BY ZOMBIES, NORTH OF THE WALL?”
Tormund shifted nervously on his feet.
“Remind me, ginger fuck, what’s my most prominent title?”
“Mother of Dragons…” Tormund whispered, ashamed.
“EXACTLY. I’ve been doing this shit for years. I brought back dragons from extinction. I came to save you on dragonback, only to lose a son. YOU RODE BACK ON DROGON WITH ME, you dumb shit. I fought in the Battle of Winterfell on Dragonback, along with Jon and was actually useful, unlike him. And he gets the praise? What the fuck?
“Sexist. You’re all sexist, the lot of you. I would’ve never thought I’d say that of the ladies in the room, but it’s the sad truth.”
She took a deep breath, straightening, looking at the people around her.
“I’m going to sleep, and I’m going to make sure what I saw does not repeat itself in reality. I suggest you do the same. I’m your Queen, I’m not your friend, I’m not your family, I’m not a mere acquaintance. I require your respect, and you should be able to give it freely since I came here for the sole purpose of saving all your sorry asses. Thought that counted for something. The fact that you think you can talk about me behind my back, threaten me, scheme against me, and then murder me is… surreal. I don’t want to be forced to do things I would rather not do. So fucking respect me, already. You all automatically bent the knee to me, when Jon decided to do so. It is not your decision if I become your Queen or not.”
A cold overtook her anger. “The North will never be independent. It cannot self-sustain itself. Having a land I’m not in charge of, leech off of my kingdoms and taking food and supplies that could have gone to my people is not something I’m willing to accept. You should stop trying, Sansa. The answer is no.”
She turned to head out the door, her voice ringing one final time. “The Lady Brienne will do to Jaime what she sees fit. Varys shall be executed tomorrow morning. Tyrion Lannister, you shall be thrown in the dungeons until I can decide what the appropriate punishment for incompetence is. Jon, we need to talk. And Lady Melisandre?”
The red-headed woman, who thought she would not be mentioned at all during the argument, raised her head at her name.
“You were partially right. It was a mistranslation. Though, it was not the prince or princess who was promised. It was the Queen. Good night, my Lords, my Ladies.”
The door slammed behind her.