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Chapter Text

Daenerys coughed violently the moment her eyes caught the sight of light.

She could not breathe, for one, the air was not entering her lungs as she struggled to inhale, her heart was thundering in her chest, afraid.

The doors of the chamber she was in swung open, the loudness making the silver haired woman tremble even more.

Where was she?

Daenerys closed her eyes instinctively. 

Then, the vision reappeared, her body, cold, fading in and out of consciousness as a hilt of dagger stuck out of her not moving chest.

She then heard it, her child, bellowing for all the hells and heavens to hear as he failed to awaken his only mother.

The Targaryen tasted blood at the back of her mouth, she was vomiting the red, bitter liquid, she could feel it in her palm as she helplessly covered her mouth in unconscious hopes to calm everything down.

"Khaleesi!" A voice shouted. "Help! We need a healer!" The feminine voice cried in urgency.

"Vezhof anni, khalasaroon vekhat, Khaleesi athdrivaroon, Jorah Andahli! Anhaan anni! Jorah Andahli!" Another voice cried. The Khaleesi has fallen, someone get Ser Jorah!

Cold, she felt so cold, where was her child, was she with the Lord of Light or any other god she was not aware of? She wanted… who did she even want with her? Her companions were dead, her Jorah was dead, sweet Missandei was decapitated right in front of her eyes, she had no one, Grey Worm was still alive, she did not— in any shape or form wish for him to join her through the nightmares of death, he deserved to live.

A warm hand made contact with her skin, her usual burning skin, why was the hand warmer than her own blood?

"Khaleesi." Why is the afterlife torturing her in such a way, making her believe her loved ones were calling out to her as though she was back in the House of Undying.

She wanted to follow the warmth, she wanted to follow the voices— who felt like a sweet melody even as frantic and terrified, Dany wanted the warmth.

"She is as cold as a corpse…" Whispered in fear a feminine voice, it felt like the person who spoke was crying, strange.

The vomit stopped abruptly, Dany's lids felt so heavy, so done with everything, she embraced her bittersweet death at last, letting her lungs stop fighting the air she so desperately tried to inhale and simply… gave up.

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"Treat him well." Viserys used to whisper to her on the lonely cold nights they spent running from home to home. 

‘Treat him well’, he used to tell her when she would ask how she should treat her husband, if there was any way she would ever get betrothed.

"I don't want to be his queen, I want to go home." Young princess Daenerys whispered to her brother, her hope for him ever understanding slowly faded as she grew with more and more name days.

Viserys gave her a look of something akin to disgust, and then she knew there was no escape.

What was love, Dany often thought in sleepless nights.

Was she ever loved? She knew of friendships, she knew of love as from noble to the people, but what was familiar love, what was romantic love?

Had she loved Drogo? Looking back on it, she really did not know what to make of it, she tried everything to make it… liveable. However it did not feel right. It… was not right either, she came to realise. Daenerys imagined herself in his place many times— there are many things she would never do, would she have been Khal Drogo. Taking a girl—child as a bride was one of them.

Daario had offered himself to her without as much as a doubt, she knew he admired her, but love? 

She did not think of Ser Jorah in a romantic light, she thought of him as she believed children thought of the Targaryen House, was that familiar love? Foolish admiration? Awe?

What was love, and to be loved?

 

What was to matter?

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Missandei dabbed one of the many wet cloths placed near her Khaleesi.

Her heart was beating at a concerning strength after she saw Daenerys be something as though— possessed. She had changed her bed coverings while Ser Jorah held the queen in his arms with a worried expression on his face.

What in the world happened?

The healer tried to evaluate what could have happened.

He found nothing, nothing besides a fresh stab wound, deep enough that should have killed her Queen.

Another almost-assassination? No one in the damned pyramid has heard anything, the unsullied placed at her doors said there was no sound until she was coughing.

They even said they should be executed for failing to protect their Khaleesi.

Missandei did not know what to do, what to tell them. She just dismissed them, as Ser Jorah had firmly taken place in their queen's chamber.

Not long after, Daario’s return alongside the Lannister lord was announced by the soldiers— positioned at the entrance of the pyramid. Missandei hesitantly went to greet him in the name of Queen Daenerys, her queen which was on death's doorstep, had she not had dragon blood. Or so she told herself.

The dark haired woman sighed as she made her way towards the room Dany usually met people who requested audiences.

Daario smiled as he saw her, placing his arms behind his back, staying confidently, though a somewhat confused look blossomed on his face once he realised that Missandei was alone.

The man looked down at the dwarf who stood beside him, the two sharing a look of what was classified as concern.

Missandei’s jaw clenched slightly, giving the two men a nod as a greeting.

“Lord Tyrion, Daario, her grace welcomes you back, she hopes your travels to Yunkai were safe.” The woman said, even as her mind was not in the place she currently was, her lips already knew the words she needed to say.

“She welcomes us… while she is not here?” Tyrion replied, his eyes squinting at the woman who always was with the queen.

Missandei took a shaky breath, something wasn't entirely right, her neck started to hurt ever since she was with Daenerys.

“Her grace suffered an murder attempt, or so we believe.” Her eyes met the ground, thinking.

“Pardon?” Daario's voice rang through the halls, his tone filled with disbelief.

“Wait a moment, the Queen was attacked? What in the seven hells? Was no one with her?” Tyrion started asking questions as he walked up to Missandei, Daario just stood, most likely not knowing what to do next.

“We don't know, the only trance left behind was Her Grace's stabbed chest.” The dark haired woman started walking to her queen's chambers, her mind a blur while trying to come up with something to keep everyone somewhat calm.

How could she do so when she herself was not, the pain in her neck making itself more known the more she tried to not pay attention to it.

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‘Daenerys. Child of storm and light.’

A strange echo rang through the walls of her mind, calling to her, trying to pull her out of the darkness.

‘Mother of Dragons, you cannot give up now. Your children need you, do not desert the lives you've freed.’

Mother of people she's failed, mother of madness. Mother of grief.

Mother of two dead winged sons, whom she'd failed to protect. Whom she'd never see again.

Drogon, where are you, my darling? your mother has heard your cries, her heart died once again as she left him alone in the world.

The world was not fair indeed, perhaps that was her destiny, to never find the peace she so desperately tried to hold onto the moment her cursed life had started.

She wanted her mother, the mother she never had the closure to know much of or meet.

Had Rhaella perhaps been disappointed she was no son? Perhaps if she had been born a man, her fate would have been changed.

‘Daenerys, do not look toward the past, it will do you no good, the Breaker of Chains must break her mind's chains once more, come back to me.’

Who is ‘me’?

Come back to who, she had no one, anyone who she could even think of, were alive, she not once wished they would join her in the inferno her thoughts had created through the short span of her life. She had to bear the pain alone.

‘Find a reason to live again. Find reason to belive.’

Live for what, for more betrayals, more failures, more unnecessary deaths? For people who did not even want to see her on the throne? For people who did not look at her twice before calling her a whore?

Daenerys, light of the world.

         Daenerys, mother of many.

     Daenerys, the gentlest of all.

Daenerys.

Wake up.

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Daario stared at his queen's unconscious form, he felt dumb, somewhat not comprehending what happened, even after seeing the wound.

It was a dagger wound, easy to spot after years of being in the Second Sons, however, it was too deep to be by any type of metal he had seen or known of.

The whole thing began to feel as though it was a nightmare he had no control in stopping, his heart aching in both fear for the woman who smiled behind a glass of wine as she commanded him to take off his clothes, and in hatred for somehow breaking his promise that he would protect her.

With a look at the dwarf near him, he saw the man hold his eyes wide, lips in a deep frown, making him look ten times the age he must have been.

Daario paced around the room slowly, his mind remembering the way his queen spoke before she quested him to take care of some masters who did not wish to understand the new laws made in one of the city she took over, her voice was filled with warmth, it made him feel assured she was going to be alright— safe, now looking back at it, he should have asked the man they called Grey Worm to ask one of his trusted men to go with the dwarf.

One question kept lingering around his thoughts: ‘How did it happen?’

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Chapter Text

Voices spoke around her, they felt like whispers, mere mumbles around her aching head.

Sore, that's what Daenerys felt, her bones felt broken, her nose picked up the smell of ash, ash from where?

She did not want to open her eyes, unsure if it was in fear or just tiredness.

Her lids however, did not listen to her, they fluttered open slightly, dryness overcoming her sight, making her eyes hurt as the light entered her sight once more.

“Khaleesi!” A sweet voice filled her ears.

Trying hard to focus on the voice’s owner, she picked up dark hair and a beautiful browband adorned with jewels.

It was slightly blue, like the one she gave Missandei around a hundred moons ago.

Why did this woman have a similar browband? Was she imagining things?

“She does not seem to know what is going around her, her eyes are unfocused.” The voice of an older man whispered, exchanging spots with the dark haired woman, then placed his hand on Dany's forehead, or so she believed.

Everything was so much warmer than herself, is this how death felt like?

Her heart felt something like a squeeze between her ribs, cutting her low breath for a moment.

‘Drogon.’ 

Daenerys felt her heart beat in her throat, she felt her son.

Did he die? Did he meet the same fate as his mother? No, it couldn't be, her child was alive, he couldn't have died alongside her.

Another throb, and her chest bore the weight of sorrow, she felt not only Drogon.

She felt her other children too, she recognised their bond almost immediately.

Daenerys did not want to believe her Drogon died as well, that he joined her and his brothers, however who would want to be alone in the world?

She felt young again, felt like she was back at the funeral pyre, back in the ash and cinder where her sons were just such tiny creatures, confused about the world around them.

Why were Drogon's emotions so intense though, she could feel his brothers be concerned for their bigger brother, she should find him.

Do the hells have dragonpits perhaps?

“Your Grace, can you hear me?” The old man pulled out of her blurry thoughts, she however did not know if there was any need for her to give him a response.

Daenerys stared into nothing, though she did try to look at the man speaking to her, only for her eyes to close more, barely enough to see the small bits of light that danced around her vision.

‘So tired.’

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“Her heart feels weaker than before, my deepest apologies, my lords, my lady, seems like her grace does not want to fight death.” The healer held a deep frown on his lips, 

Ser Jorah held onto the hilt of his sword, trembling.

Missandei stared at the healer, eyes wide and heart thundering. 

“What do you mean she does not want to fight, Quillon? Our Queen has been a fighter all her life, she has faced deaths more than some can count!” Daario cried out in frustration, he too, seemed to want to draw one of his daggers out at the old man.

The healer trembled at the tension around the queen's chambers, swallowing a deep breath, he spoke again.

“How long before one stops having the will to fight, my lord?” 

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Tyrion sat uneasy in the pyramid’s war room.

His mind was conflicted between confusion, worry, and so on and so forth.

The small man spotted Missandei rush out of his queen's champers, at that, Tyrion got off the uncomfortable chair he placed himself on and ran as fast as his feet could handle and rushed to catch up with the dark haired woman.

It was relatively a challenge to do so, though she slowed down when she heard him call out to her.

“What is the rush, any news on Her Grace's condition?” He gasped, relief filled his chest once she stopped fully.

“No, Lord Tyrion, the Queen is still unconscious, I have to attend summonings in her name.” Missandei explained shortly, as if she did not want to talk to him at all.

“May I assist you?” Tyrion asked the second he caught his breath.

When she did not say anything, her silence gave him a response and he followed along.

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“My Lords, my lady, this is Kinvara, High Priestess of the Red Temple of Volantis, the Flame of Truth.” Said a man covered in silvery armour as he stood next to the red clothed woman.

Missandei gave a nod, then started. “You stand in the Great Pyramid of Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, First of Her Name, the Unburnt, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons.” 

The woman at the bottom of the stairs took off her hood, revealing her dark hair alongside some gold jewels that were recognised as artefacts owned by followers of R'hllor.

“A pleasure to finally meet you, my lady. The night is dark and full of terrors." Kinvara addresses Missandei, ignoring both the dwarf’s presence and the eunuch beside the representative of the Queen.

Missandei held a look of confusion in her eyes, continuing her silence however.

Kinvara must've taken notice of it, as she gave the girl a small smile, before shutting the silence aside.

“I know Her Grace is not in any condition to receive outside visitors, however, I am a red priestess, an old acquaintance of sorts, I believe I could help her more than any old healer could, as far as we both know, my Lady, men love their gold, what is honour when someone pays them their life's worth.” The Priestess took a step forward, however two spears cut her trip up short by stopping her.

Kinvara looked at the Unsullied soldiers, then back at the woman.

Missandei spoke in Valyrian, telling them to lower their weapons, then met the Red Woman's gaze, seemingly understanding the meaning behind her words, the corner of her lips turning downwards.

“Follow me.”

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Kinvara told Missandei to clear out the Queen's chambers as she set down her satchel.

“You bring a woman we do not know in Her Grace's room and tell us to go away, do you know how incriminating this looks like, Missandei?” Daario Naharis chuckled, his laugh holding no humour, as far as the Priestess could tell, he had not slept ever since his Queen had fallen.

Kinvara looked away from her satchel, finding Ser Jorah looking at her, he had dark circles under his eyes, though his glare told her that he was restless, much as Daario was.

With a lot of arguing, the men left the chambers, though they both firmly decided to guard the door besides the Unsullied soldiers stationed there as well.

Missandei sat where her Queen's queensguard had previously sat.

Kinvara pitied the girl, if she recalled right, the flames showed her queen and her were close to inseparable.

“Tell me something, Missandei of Naath, what have your dreams shown you as of recent.” the Priestess spoke, trying to ease the tension on the girl's shoulders while she placed down her accoutrements on the room's table.

With the corner of her eye, Kinvara saw the girl shift uncomfortably on her chair.

“I do not really think that is important or related to Her Grace's condition.” Missandei dismissed the question shortly, just as the Priestess expected. 

“Perhaps it is, I've seen you in the flames, you are a loyal friend.” Kinvara complimented, taking a small knife and walked towards an unconscious Daenerys.

‘Long time no see, my friend.’ 

“Wh— What are you doing?!” Quickly said an alarmed Missandei.

Kinvara did not turn to the girl, taking a small end of one of Daenerys' loosened braids and cutting it.

The silvery hair rested well in Kinvara's hand, who placed it on a small plate on the table where she settled her accoutrements.

“It is required for the spell.” With a small motion, she met the younger woman's eyes.

“Do not fret, Missandei, I would never dream of hurting the Khaleesi, she is the Lord of Light's most favoured chosen, that would be a shame to anything I claim to believe in.”

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Daenerys dreamt of being bathed in warm light.

‘In what manner has vexed your spirit, my timeless dearest?’

Questioned an echo in her mind, has she truly lost it even while dead?

‘Fear not, my absolute, you wander not in madness. I watch over you as you traverse the realm of dreams.’

“I am afraid.” Her lips moved without her notice. 

‘What haunts the recesses of your fears?’

“I have lost all of my loved ones, I have nothing no more, tell me, is this my fate, is this the way it is meant for me to die?” Her eyes felt overwhelmed with wetness, tears threatening to leave out of the corner of her lids.

‘Fear not the loss, for life courses within you still, I pledge, when you awaken, all shall align as destiny intended. As long as my existence endures, your heart shall beat in harmony, my dearest flame.’

Daenerys sobbed as she listened, she could not make much of the voice speaking to her so tenderly. She wondered if her mind had made up some sweet lover to mend her broken heart.

‘Rest now, sweet one, I will linger beside you until the dawn of reality, when you shall return from ethereal realms of dreams and shadowed dance with mortality, your companion, devoted, awaits for your awakening.’

Then Dany felt her heart be lifted from what it felt like heavy rocks and rested on top of the softest of silks, a dim bit of light travelled to her face, then her tears were no more.

She felt like she was falling, and suddenly, she was for once, sure someone would catch her.

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The moment her eyes opened, just as the voice had said, Missandei sat next to her bed, holding her hand with her eyes closed.

“I see the Lord has let you awake, Daenerys Stormborn.” If the voice was not familiar, the silver haired girl would have flinched the moment she saw the person's shadow.

“I did not know you can appear in people's minds after they rot, Kinvara.” Dany whispered, trying not to wake her friend.

“You are so convinced you are no longer?” Moving her gaze from the sleeping Missandei, she found the eyes of the Priestess.

“Is that not true? Jon Snow struck me with a dagger, I heard my son cry for me, don't jest me Kinvara, you have been too good of a friend to try and deceive me.” A sad smile overtook her lips.

“That did indeed happen, my Queen, however, long ago I have told you, you are The Lord of Light's most adored being, do not think he would have let his chosen die such a pathetic death.” Kinvara's eyebrows moved up as she held a grin that reached her ears.

“I find it hard to believe, my friend, your fellow Priestess called him, “The Prince that was promised “ or whatnot, I am anything but your dear lord's favourite.” She chuckled softly, 

“Has he said so? Because I believe the last time I looked into the flames, his fire showed me you, instead of the King of the North.” The Priestess stated as her hand reached to stroke the previously unconscious queen.

Daenerys froze, her eyebrows drew together and air caught in her throat.

“Let's talk once we are alone, my Queen, the Lord has a lot to discuss with you.”

 

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Somewhere far far away, a man who was called dead, roamed around looking for a ship, determined to sail as soon as possible.

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“Your Grace, the healer said you should be resting, are you sure this is a good idea?” Tried to argue Tyrion as his scarred face had a grimace on it.

Daenerys looked at the dwarf, her heart feeling once again like it was struck, she used to so dearly respect this man, how did she not realise he always went against everything she stood for and did.

The woman turned as she allowed Missandei to place a piece of cloth on her wound, an extra level of protection, as she claimed.

“Lord Tyrion, when I had made you my hand, I expected you to advise me, not to stand in front of me and stop me from doing things I already said I will do, how is meeting an old friend of mine such a bother to you, may I ask?” Her voice was sharp, not really wanting to waste time and meet with Kinvara, this man brought hell upon her life because of his love for his dear sister, if she had not known of Jaime, she would have assumed he was the lover instead.

“You have just been stabbed for hell's sake! You can't expect me to stay aside while you meet potential danger, your Grace, as your Hand, and friend, I am against this meeting!” He exclaimed, perhaps another time, she would have melted at the worry, at the feeling that someone perhaps, perhaps cared enough to be concerned about her doings, especially after losing so much.

“I'm afraid I have to agree with the dwarf, Khaleesi.” Ser Jorah spoke, and oh it hurt like absolute hell to hear her sweet bear agree with someone she has made a sworn enemy.

Daenerys turned sharply at the man, “Ser Jorah, you have stood beside me when I walked into flames, if you believe I am so easily hurt, you are more than welcomed to stay outside the door, that should make it easy enough to tell if I am being attacked or not.” She truly did not want to argue with him, her heart squeezing between her ribs, she wanted to hug him, she wanted to cry in his arms and tell him she missed him, just like she wished to do with Missandei.

The last time she had seen either, her dearest friend was in two parts and her most beloved protector was being set in flames and ready to leave the world after dying for her.

Ser Jorah remained silent, though a wounded expression appeared on his face.

“If I may, Your Grace, you are ready to meet Kinvara.” Missandei gave her a small awkward smile, trying to help her out of the rather uncomfortable situation the silver haired woman found herself in.

“Of course, lead the way.” 

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Daenerys embraced the Priestess tightly the moment the room's doors had closed.

“Easy now, Your Grace, the wound can reopen any time, the magic is only there to stop possible bleeding.” Kinvara whispered gently, however she embraced the Queen with just as much strength as one of her hands slowly moved up and down her back to comfort the woman.

Dany wept quietly on the older woman's shoulder, not caring about the pain slowly starting to set inside her wounded chest.

“Now, now dear one, what would the Lord make of me if you start crying the moment we are alone?” The Priestess sighed, though she held just a bit tighter on the girl in her arms.

“Your Lord be damned, I just want to express my grief without anyone calling me mad for it!” The young Targaryen sobbed in a low tone, a shaky breath leaving her lips.

“Oh Daenerys…”

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After a pretty lengthy while, Daenerys let go of the Priestess, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands as the two women sat down at the table the chamber provided.

“Here.” Kinvara handed the girl a handkerchief, her tone somewhat frustrated.

Daenerys chuckled dryly, “Have I offended you so badly you felt the need to hand me your handkerchief?” Though she did take the piece of cloth and continued to wipe her eyes.

“It makes me rather angry to see you struggling, I have grown fond of you, and so did my Lord, it's actually infuriating even.” Kinvara gave her a small laugh, placing her arms on the table, setting her chin on her palms.

“If only you were there before I burned King's Landing, having at least one who did not want me dead would have perhaps stopped a catastrophe.” Dany sighed.

Kinvara remained quiet.

“Jon Snow will always be nothing but the Bastard of Winterfell to me, and I can assure you many others. In another life, he remained so in history books.” Kinvara firmly spoke, making the silver headed woman huff a laugh.

“Perhaps in another life I would have had the heart to argue with you on that, gods have I not hated the word bastard.” She brushed a piece of hair out of her face, at last, her heart did not seem to want to burst out of her chest at the mention of the man.

Kinvara beamed, “You always had a good heart, Daenerys.” 

The Mother of Dragons just exhaled.

“Tell me, my friend, what became of the world after they killed “the Mad Queen”?” Daenerys leaned back on the soft seat, her hand reaching for her goblet.

“I wish you did not ask me that, sweet one.” Chuckled the dusk haired woman, her voice holding no amusement.

“Your dear Hand talked his way out of execution for one, just as he had done other lifetimes.” 

Daenerys choked on the drink, coughing hard.

Kinvara rushed to her side, softly beating her back to help her.

The door burst open as Ser Jorah and Grey Worm entered.

“Get away from her!” Exclaimed an alarmed Jorah as the unsullied soldier was already making his way towards the two women, spear tightly held.

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“Leave us!” Daenerys shouted hoarsely, struggling to speak through the choking.

“Khaleesi, this woman—”

“I said, leave us, Jorah Mormont!” Her voice thundered loudly through the room.

Everyone was quiet, Kinvara remained trying to ease the choking.

“Sweet one, perhaps that was too harsh.” The dusk haired woman whispered in her ear.

Daenerys sniffed, her nose suddenly feeling wet.

“Grey Worm, just to ease some of my dear knight’s worry, please remain at the very corner of the room, Ser Jorah, you may take your leave.” The silver headed woman shuddered, guilt slowly starting to form in her wounded chest.

The women heard the knight sigh heavily.

“All right, Your Grace.” Kinvara saw with the corner of her eye as he bowed and went to close the door, leaving the room like a kicked puppy.

The two heard the unsullied soldier make his way to the corner of the chamber.

“Better?” Kinvara spoke first, then made her way back on the seat she previously sat on.

“Yea, perhaps you are right, I released my anger on him, I will apologise after, he is the last person I want to call me mad.” She sighed shakily.

“Good.” The Priestess nodded.

Dany cleared her throat, “You were saying Tyrion talked his way out of execution, like in “other life times”?” She repeated Kinvara's answer from earlier.

“Yes…he managed to say how you were mad, how you descended into madness like your father, he held an election for a new king, Brandon Stark ended up becoming king.” Kinvara explained, her eyes observing the Queen's emotions changing as she continued her explanation.

“Of course It's a Stark, it's always the damn Starks.” The Queen rubbed her left temple in frustration, then looked at Kinvara once more. “Had Tyrion at least waited after I was dead, to mourn, or well pretend to, after all the city was burned to ash, he had to wait.” 

Kinvara felt her mouth turn downwards, a frown appearing on her face, “No, he did not really wait almost at all before holding the election. It seemed like he had been planning it for at least a couple of days before King's Landing actually burned.”

Daenerys' eyes widened, then she shook her head as fury began to build up in her heart alongside resentment. “That foul little harlot.” She whispered.

Kinvara looked at the Queen then laughed, laughed a full hearted laugh.

Dany seemed to awaken from her thoughts, as she just stared at the worshipper as she laughed.

The Priestess wiped one of her eyes, “Haa, I don't think I ever heard you be so vulgar in any of the life times I watched over you, oh my Lord, I did not know you had it in you!” She grinned.

Daenerys' mouth twitched slightly, then she felt her cheeks heat up, she flushed as a smile made its way on her lips.

“While we are on the topic, you end up burning your eunuch a lot more times than I expected.” 

That seemed to re catch Daenerys' attention, “You said “life times”, so this isn't the first time I came back?” She asked, appalled.

Kinvara nodded, “That is right, this time however, it is the first time you remember your last.” she elaborated.

The Queen looked confused, unsure. “You could as well tell me that you are just jesting and I would rather believe that than what you just said.”

“I wish I was, Your Grace, what would I not give to not see you experience the same pain over and over again.” The older woman sighed briefly. “The Lord of Light has shown me around thirty-four lives that you went through, which all ended in the same fate.” 

Daenerys' face twisted into a pained expression, “So… I lost my children more times than I bare to imagine, I burned thousands of innocents to ash.” 

Kinvara shook her head. “Daenerys, you and so many others forget something important, sure there were innocents amongst the people, however, those are the same beings who cheered for Eddard Stark's beheading, a man sworn to the realm, a honourable man, a man who saved them from the Mad King during the rebellion.” 

The silver haired girl remained quiet.

“They can call it what they wish, however many of the people were anything but innocent.” 

“That does not excuse children dying in their mother's arms.” Dany's voice was quiet.

“I will not try and justify your actions, however those children were starving under Cersei’s rule, even if you would have listened to the so-called bells of surrender, they long lost the chance to recover.” Kinvara recalled the many visions she had seen in the flames. “Sweet one, they were not bells of surrender, whoever believed so was a fool, there was so much wildfire ready to be ignited.” 

“What?” Daenerys demanded, eyes widening once more.

Kinvara frowned more, giving the younger woman a hint to be quiet.

Dany shut her mouth quickly, eyebrows furrowed together.

“The bells were a signal for the wildfire to be ignited. To your dear Hand's somewhat benefit of the doubt, he did not know, Cersei swore the bells were a sign of their surrender, and he believed it. She wanted you dead, and if people were to put the blame on one, she would have had the upper hand because you were dead already, though, in your grief, her plan did not go as expected and she did not have the time to tell her own Hand for the wildfire to start.” 

Daenerys stared, she just stared at the Priestess, her mind a storm, hands starting to shake.

Kinvara looked at the young woman, pitying her, exhaling through her nose, she resorted to continue speaking, hoping her next words would somehow ease the Queen.

“It was not you entirely who killed the freefolk of King's Landing,” She tried to muster a smile. “Your son, Drogon's fire got to the wildfire and ignited it, you were not aiming for the people, you were aiming for the Red Keep and the city's buildings, the wildfire was set under the streets where the people were trying to find refuge toward the castle, that sealing their fate.” Kinvara moved her arm across the table to catch her Queen's trembling ones.

“I… it is still my fault, Kinvara, I never intended to kill people, I don't know why I even…Missandei…I— I kept seeing her, I—...” Daenerys sobbed in a whispery tone, accepting her friend's support and extending her hands as well.

“I am truly sorry, sweet one.” Kinvara brushed her thumb on the younger woman's fingers.

They remained silent, the only thing that could be heard in the chamber were Dany's silent cries and hitched breaths.

After a small while, the Queen let go of Kinvara's hand, then slowly got up the seat.

The Priestess furrowed her eyebrows as she did so, in which the Khaleesi sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

“I need to see my children.”

---

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Tyrion sat in the war room alongside the Master of Whisperers, drink in hand and mind a blur.

“Has Her Grace already had enough of you, Lord Tyrion?” The eunuch asked in his usual toned voice.

“Oh shut it, I do not know what stirred resentment in her, ever since the Queen had awakened, she's all secretive with that Priestess who came here.” He took a deep sip of his drink, watching the vanishing edge of the bluey sky.

“I am pretty sure the Red Priestess healed her Grace's wounds? I wouldn't be too hostile towards her, after all, she did bring our Queen back from the heavens gates.” Varys stated before opening a small letter from one of his little crows.

“I am not hostile! I just feel…” Tyrion’s sentence faded as he tried to explain what he tried to mean.

“Replaced?” Varys tilted his head towards the dwarf.

Tyrion shot the man a look, scrunched his nose in annoyance then went back to finish the goblet.

---

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Daenerys walked with Kinvara and two unsullied soldiers towards the small pit where her children used to rest while she was in Meereen.

Her heart was hammering behind her bones, overwhelmed by the feeling of all her children alive.

“I feel so strange feeling them all again, I spent so much time with Drogon alone.” She whispered to Kinvara in the common tongue, silently hoping the soldiers did not understand the full language yet.

Kinvara smiled and looked at her as they walked.

“Drogon had burned the iron throne many times after the way your lives ended previously, I'd say you two have a lot to catch up.” Her tone soft, her gaze shifting towards the clear skies surrounding them.

“You…think he…?” Dany stopped abruptly, making the soldiers behind them stop as well, making a loud sound as they stopped in sync.

Kinvara stopped a step ahead, lips a grin and shoulders shrugging.

Daenerys let out a shuddered breath, then ran towards the dragon pits.

---

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A hot dragon growl came out of the pit, heating the air near it.

Daenerys walked slowly towards the entrance, stopping for a moment before a pair of red eyes made her path pause.

“Drogon…” She softly called out to her son, with a short glance, she took notice he was noticeably smaller than he had been when they last flew together.

From behind his body, two other heads reached out, tilting ever so slightly to look at her.

“My precious ones…” Dany's mouth remained slightly open, seeing as Viserion advanced forward, as if inhaling her smell.

The silver haired woman extended her arm for him to do so.

Viserion seemed to eye the hand suspiciously for a moment, before leaning his nare into her palm, bumping into it affectionately.

Daenerys smiled, “Oh how I missed you, boy.” She extended her other arm to stroke the golden scales near his head.

Behind her, the Queen saw a shadow approaching as Viserion growled alarmed.

The woman turned, her eyes catching the figure of the Red Priestess.

“What a beauty.” She grinned as she remained at a decent distance from the four.

Daenerys turned back to Viserion, smile widening. “Peace boy, she's a friend.” She let one of her arms leave the cream coloured Dragon, extending it towards Kinvara.

“Come, let him smell you.” And so she advanced, slowly, not flinching when the dragon huffed hot air on her dress.

Dany stepped away, letting the two interact, walking towards Rhaegal and Drogon, who watched the two women wearily.

Upon seeing their mother approach, the green scaled dragon backed away slightly.

“Oh don't be mean now, I have not seen you in what feels like hundreds of moons, please Rhaegal.” She gently scolded him, continuing to approach however.

The dragon puffed. “Don't give me attitude.” She warned in Valyrian.

Once she was right in front of him, she gently brushed her palm against his scales, this time however he did not back away.

With another huff, the green dragon pushed his nare into her arms as well, at last seeking the comfort of his mother.

“I think he likes me.” Kinvara called out, making the Queen turn her head in her direction.

“Viserion was always the most affectionate out of the three, I remember Ser Jorah called him a 'mama’s boy', I'm not entirely sure he liked that comment though.” The woman praised fondly. “Oh don't look at me like that Drogon, you are acting like you did not spend the most time with me.” Dany pouted, though that did not last as a more playful smile blossomed on her face as she reached out for her big boy while still petting Rhaegal.

“Do you now think he remembers?” Kinvara chuckled as her gaze fell on the trio.

“His gaze reminds me of the one Ser Jorah had when he told me that sometimes it was hard for him to believe that I am real.” Daenerys watched the two ruby-like eyes fall on her, the smile on her lips turning sad.

“I'm here, and I will never leave any of you again, I will make sure of it, Night King be damned.” She whispered in Valyrian.

---

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“Well you certainly look like you did not get a good night's sleep, my friend.” Observed Tyrion as the queensguard appeared in the war room.

Ser Jorah ignored his mocking, instead, he sat across him and sighed.

Tyrion remained quiet, trying to pay little mind to the thickness that remained in the air.

After what it felt like hours, another joined the war room.

The dwarf looked at the figure, only to see a Grey Worm looking almost the same as Ser Jorah did.

“Were you not supposed to be with the Queen?” The knight asked, confused.

“Khaleesi did not need me. She went to see dragons with red woman.” Grey Worm spoke in the common tongue.

Jorah rubbed his temples, “Does she not usually walk towards the training areas with Missandei as of now?”

He asked, his tone between confused and frustrated.

Varys finally made his presence known as he huffed an amused breath, “Well it certainly looks like every one of you has a common problem.”

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Chapter Text

It was Missandei who approached around 4 days after the Priestess and the Queen visited the pit.

“Your Grace?” She called as she entered her Queen's chambers.

Daenerys turned around with her hair unbraided, her eyes seemed to shine as they laid their gaze on the dark haired woman.

“Yes, Missandei?” The silver headed woman grinned, one of her arms went to her side, showing the woman a chair near for her to take a seat.

“May I discuss something with you, Khaleesi?” She approached quietly, slowly taking the seat shown.

“Of course, and please, don't address me so formally when we are alone, you are my friend.” Daenerys continued to beam, then turned back to the mirror she was previously looking into.

The Queen wore a simple gown with a very low neckline, low enough to display the red scar tainting her skin.

Daenerys hissed as she picked up at the wound, trying to get it ready for it to be sewed again.

“Allow me…Daene—”, “Dany.” 

Missandei stopped, astounded.

“Pardon me?” She asks softly.

“Call me Dany, you are my friend.” The Queen smiled, repeating her statement, though her eyebrows were furrowed, clearly in discomfort as she tried to rip the dead skin of the wound.

Missandei frowned, “Let me help you…Dany.” She took her queen's hands in hers, stopping the dreadful scene.

“All right.” She sighed, walking away from the woman to pick up a chair and place it in front of Missandei’s seat.

After placing it steadily, she sat down as Missandei started ripping the dry skin.

“...Dany.” The dark haired woman said softly, her tone gentle.

“Yes?” Daenerys opened her eyes to look at her, though hissed again through her teeth.

“...Have I…offended you?” Her eyes looked apologetic as she grabbed a small cloth from the table near, soaking it then in the medicated water placed near.

The Queen whimpered slightly as blood started dripping from the wound once the skin was fully removed, but shakily responded, “No! What makes you think so?”

Missandei moved her hands quicker, “We…usually spend a lot of time together, and you were not there to walk with me and check on the training soldiers, I apologise if I overread the situation.” An apology quickly escaped through her lips, laying the cloth on the wound for the medicine to enter more gently, hating the pained expression on her Queen's face.

The Queen however remained silent, with a quick glance from Missandei, she saw her expression was now thoughtful.

“I— I'm sorry if I overstepped, I just thought —”

“You died, Missandei.” Daenerys wearily started.

Missandei stepped back, horrified, “Pardon me?”

Daenerys took a shaky breath. “I've died too, many times, many more times than a child could count to.” She hated how her voice seemed to not want to speak, reluctant even.

The dark haired woman held a bewildered expression on her face, suddenly Daenerys wished she kept her mouth shut.

The Khaleesi moved slowly in a more strained sitting position.

“We were at war with Cersei, most of Westeros actually, Varys betrayed me and so did Tyrion. You were the only one who remained loyal to me even in your last moments. Ser Jorah had long died, I had no one to trust besides you and Grey Worm, but you were taken from me.” Her gaze lifted, her mind begging the woman to believe her as they looked at each other 

“Cersei took you, my dragons were gone, only Drogon remained. Cersei executed you right in front of my eyes. I saw you in two pieces, Missandei.” Daenerys felt wetness at the corners of her eyes, she did not care, as long as her Missandei did not call her mad, as long as her Missandei was alive.

The woman stayed still, as if those afraid eyes were studying her. 

“Kinvara had come to seek for me because she knew, she told me she watched over me in other lives too. As a Red Priestess, she keeps telling me her Lord adores me, she told me he kept bringing me back, and now this is the first time I remember.” Daenerys' voice trembled as she struggled to let out the mad sounding sentence.

Dany looked at her friend once more. “Drogon remembers too.”

The silence was soul crushing, as the wound started to hurt even more, Daenerys looked away, voice strained.

“You may go, I'll…do this myself.” Her hand travelled to her bloodied chest, holding it as she hesitantly got up to her feet.

‘I sound more mad than my father, perhaps I should have had Kinvara here, perhaps I would have looked more sane.’ Ashamed thoughts stormed her thinking.

“You…say I was decapitated, right?” Missandei's voice suddenly made the Queen flinch.

“Yes, right in front of me, I could not have even come to pick up your remains, all I had left was the chains they tied you in before your death.” Daenerys hated how thick her voice sounded.

“When…when you woke up after being stabbed, that was when you came back, is that right?” The silver headed woman heard her friend shift, her body making a small wind as it moved.

“Indeed, the stab travelled from the last life, or so I believe, I did not think to ask Kinvara if that was possible or if I was actually stabbed during this life.” A shuddered breath left her throat as she dabbed the cloth, trying to stop the blood impatiently.

Missandei seemed hesitant to continue, “Ever since that day, I've got an insufferable pain in my neck. I went to one of the healers, they did not find anything wrong with it.” 

Dany felt her heart stop, for a moment, the pain was forgotten as she turned to face her friend.

“When you were unconscious, the Priestess, Kinvara, asked me if I had any dreams that could have stressed me, at that time I did not pay much mind to it, but now…” A look of uncertainty overcame her features.

Daenerys rushed to pull Missandei in an embrace.

---

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A moon's turn had passed since the conversation between the Queen and her friend, a moon's turn in which the Queen asked Kinvara to spend more time with Missandei when she had duty to attend to.

Daario accompanied her most of the time; he, unlike the other advisors she has actively tried to avoid, did not press the issue, simply enjoyed being near her again it seemed.

He rode with her as she travelled amongst the cities she took over, unlike her other lives, this time she wished to have a more stable living for the people she had freed, thoughts of them ending up back in chains made it in the back of her mind, and her mind travelled back to Missandei's death, which had officially marked her judgement regarding the Essos issues.

“Daario.” She addressed him as she saw Drogon fly over them.

“Your Grace?” He smiled as soon as her eyes met him again.

“What do you think of Pentos? I heard the practice of slavery is legal there, correct me if I'm wrong.” She wore a faint smile, mind a mess once more.

“That you're right, Your Grace, they do have a history of not opposing the legality of owning slaves, from my knowledge they have a market.” Daario explained.

The Queen remained silent for a couple of heart beats.

“How many Dothraki do we have?” Daenerys asks, her eyes wandering again on her children which flew towards one another playfully.

“Around 60,000, if we count the ones that are still coming from all around Essos, they want to meet the Great Khaleesi, in around a moon or two, we might reach 90,000.” The man replied, “Any reason to why are you asking, my Queen?” He eyed her suspiciously, though a playful grin played on his lips.

“Do not tell any of my advisors about this, besides Missandei, how many people are in Pentos, and how many of them would be slaves currently?” She huffed a laugh.

Daario's eyebrows shot up, then furrowed, thinking. “Pentos is a big city, so around…220,000 if we count the highborn, I'm going to be bold and assume at least 60,000.” 

“How many men would it take to take over the city, you think?” Daenerys was now looking directly at him, a look of weariness playing in her eyes.

Daario did not respond immediately, however his surprise was evident, “How interesting that you ask, my little Conqueror.” 

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Almost a moon had passed since they started secretly preparing for the fight that was to be when they were ready.

Daenerys decided to let Grey Worm, her past commander of her forces, her Master of War, to give his opinion on everything.

The Queen soon realised he had not opened as much yet, he was still reluctant in some areas, hesitant at worst to say his opinion on specific matters. Around this time around he started to warm up more to her and Missandei back in her other life.

Daario and her Master of War decided on a number of Unsullied to join their cause for Pentos, from the Second Sons’ commander's knowledge, Pentos had a low military defence, only around 5,000 soldiers and another 4,000 who were slaves forced into it, which were currently still in training from what one of his trusted officers had told him.

Daenerys thought for a long time to let her (she thought of calling him her mistress for the fun of it) lover try and bond with one of her dragons, might be of help for the 3 to bond with other riders than just one.

But even through her uncertainty about what her brother had told her about dragons as a whole, she doubted just any man could try and bond with, well... magical beings, her children at that.

Daario had no Valerian ancestors from her knowledge, which ran thin since he was not sure about his family tree, himself.

And his words rang in her ear, ‘Horses are stupider than men’, which made her reluctant, while her children were not horses, it was quite evident he was more comfortable on his feet.

Kinvara came across their late night plannings when they began to form, knowing they wouldn't be able to hide anything from a person who sees in fire, they let her join their strategy planning, in which she asked to participate the day of the fight.

Dany was extremely reluctant, she could not risk losing the Priestess, however as if she read her mind, Kinvara explained she could see what the enemy would do or say, 'You are my Lord's most adored, he would want to help you', her plan being to have a small fort away from the city where she could tell the warriors what to do and when to do it, knowing they could not storm the city at once.

The moon's turn was almost over when she was summoned in her throne room by a very weary Missandei, who did not tell her who was summoning her so late and just told the Queen to follow her.

When Daenerys arrived, heart thundering behind her bones, she saw a the person she never thought of coming across.

Her eyes were wide and her breathing seemed to slow down as she hesitantly took her seat on the pyramid’s throne.

Missandei looked at her for a moment, before starting, “You stand in the presence of—” 

“I know who I'm in the presence of, Your Grace, I believe you don't exactly know who I am, so allow me.” The man said, his head still lowered, nor meeting the women's eyes.

“And…who might you be, my lord?” Daenerys did not remember anyone with his voice, though for whatever reason she felt sick, wanting to flee ever since she arrived.

“My name is Eddard Stark, I was Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North, previous Hand of the King of the late King Robert Baratheon.” Eddard raised his head at last.

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Tyrion woke up from another sleepless night, hearing chatter through the halls of the pyramid.

The dwarf left his chambers, only to see Varys leaving his as well, the two looked at each other oddly, as if questioning the other if they knew something.

Varys walked along the dwarf, then the two bumped into Ser Jorah in front of the throne room entrance.

“Who could be stupid enough to summon Her Grace at this hour? Any issues are always addressed in the morning.” Tyrion whispered to the other men.

“Only one way to find out.” Ser Jorah gripped the hilt of his sword, then entered the throne room.

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Dany sent Missandei to get Kinvara, as she was too afraid to be alone in the situation unfolding before her eyes, perhaps the worshipper would have answers, though when the Priestess arrived, she looked shocked to see the man there, just as the queen was.

Daenerys sat quietly, her eyes kept wandering to Kinvara, who shrugged slightly at her gaze, seemingly not having much knowledge of what was happening either.

“Lord…Stark, I apologise if this offends you, but, you were… you were called dead, decapitated by your King's son.” She hesitantly said.

“Aye. I was, or thought I was, Your Grace, I have no idea what I was or what I currently am. All I remember was the crowd that stood before me as I was forced to lay out lies in hopes that the fucking Lannisters would not harm my family, and from what I know, that did nothing.” Eddard explained, the man looked worn out by the world, his tone tired and eyes sunken in.

He held her gaze, as if trying to make her believe, as he knew the relations between the Targaryens and Starks were, he must've also known the ridiculousness of him seeking her out after his friend murdered her father.

“I don't know—” Dany's words were caught by the throne room opening, revealing her advisors along with Ser Jorah.

Daenerys felt her jaw clench, “Khaleesi!—” Jorah’s words died just like hers did when he saw who stood in front of her.

Eddard’s eyes switched from her to him, widening.

Kinvara quickly made her way next to Missandei, understanding the stressful situation about to unfold, perhaps a little afraid someone was going to cut the other in one way or another.

Daenerys looked at Varys, the man seemingly wanting to be anywhere but there, while Tyrion looked horrified, his eyes wide and seemingly in the same position as the Master of Whisperers.

The Queen reluctantly broke the silence, “Lord Stark, I will have a chamber ready for you, it must have been an extremely long journey, I will also send a healer to check up for any wounds or infection you might not be aware of, we will talk in the morning, Missandei, if you please.” Daenerys looked at the woman in desperation, which in response quickly went to the man, with a quick “please, follow me” he looked at her council one more time before following the woman.

Dany heard the door shut, with a shaky sigh, she addressed Kinvara. “Can my return have affected the events that already were supposed to have happened?” She muttered in High Valyrian.

“We will speak of it when they aren't here.” The Priestess pointed to her advisors with a tilt of her head.

Daenerys turned to the men, Jorah then met her gaze, he looked as he did when he jumped to her defence back in another life, back in Winterfell.

“I think I've gone mad.” She heard Tyrion whisper.

“No, you did not, Lord Tyrion, that was a very alive Eddard Stark.” Daenerys said, startling him out of the daze he was in as he quickly looked at her.

“Your Grace…Eddard Stark is dead, Joffrey Baratheon ordered his men to give him his head, it was a public execution.” Varys interrupted, his voice betraying him however, as she could feel his astonishment.

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Chapter Text

‘At last, here you stand once more, my absolute.’

Daenerys felt light again, as there were no threats at her door, as if the world was peaceful.

“We meet again.” She greeted the voice, perhaps she should not feel safe, this creature had made way into her dreams, though she pushed those worries aside for the moment.

‘Pray, my dear, I sense you bear queries awaiting illumination. What inquiries shall I unravel for you?’ 

“If I were to ask who you are, would you give me an answer?” Daenerys chuckled, the darkness around her being lightened by soft looking smoke, she seemed to be laying, even though she was standing.

‘Indeed, my timeless flame, I harbor that the revelation of my true identity may be met with disbelief on your part, shall I attempt to unveil the truth nonetheless? If you are willing to venture into the realm of trust.’

“I'd like to know who I meet each time I close my eyes, at this point, nothing surprises me anymore.” Dany walked forward, venturing into the beautiful realm she had recently found herself in.

‘Alas, my absolute, I bear no name to share. Yet, let it be known that amongst the pantheon your people hold dear, I, the Lord of Light, am favored by your grace. A deity revered, whispered in the flickering flames, an entity among many your devoted mortals invoke.’

Daenerys paused her aimless walking as she thought of the voice's reply. “Am I to believe a god had taken interest in me then?” She laughed at the idea, even if she did come to terms with the fact the Lord brought her back time and time again.

‘Dearest, in the hushed whispers of my faithful, whispers may circulate that you are akin to a spouse, should they encounter your presence. As for the intricacies of mortal sentiment, such delicate nuances elude even my divine understanding.’

Dany felt her lips twitch, a hint of a grin playing on her mouth. 

The Queen did not hold back the amused laugh that followed, looking at the ground she once again started walking on, she saw the floor her feet stepped on, turned as water when touched, making it feel as if she was traveling on the Narrow Sea while walking.

‘Your countenance betrays a touch of amusement. Pray, what has stirred the mirth in your gaze, sweet flame?’

“Who could love a dragon, my Lord?” She did not mean to sound as if she was snapping at the god, the voice who had been kind enough to answer her question, who took care of her while unconscious. “I believe as you brought me back to life many times, you must've seen the state I find myself in over and over again, perhaps I am unlovable, in the sense of… like you've said, marriage. So therefore I doubt I'd make a good bride for you, I apologize for the disappointment.”

The silver headed woman swallowed a deep breath, “I am not seeking your presence for that reason though, my Lord, I wanted to question if you had brought back Lord Eddard Stark from the dead alongside me. And if you did, why?” 

The voice did not respond as quickly as it did before, maybe she was wrong and it had no idea what she was talking about.

‘I have summoned souls back from the abyss of death, for they departed unjustly. In resurrecting you once more, I sensed a divergence from prior instances. Thus, I granted you counsel from a source more trustworthy than your own advisors. Believe it or not, Daenerys Targaryen, it burdens my divine essence to witness my chosen one ensnared in sorrow.’ 

The voice's tone was not different from before, though Dany felt it was more offended, a small bit of guilt made its way in her heart.

“But why never before? Why a Stark? I was killed by a Stark, I was hated by the North in all my other lives, why him, why do you keep bringing me back, why is this time so different, what has changed?” Daenerys felt tears slowly steam down her cheeks, the familiar feeling of hopelessness came back to her once more.

The voice did not reply. Dany watched as the light slowly got smaller around her, the place becoming more dull.

A small sense of panic overcame her, “Please don't leave me in the dark, I cannot stand it, I beg of you!” She sobbed, feeling her knees weaken as she moved her body around to look for the light which had been a comfort beforehand.

Daenerys felt her body being lifted, quickly she looked down and saw lighting, so bright and warm, holding her up, then a brighter figure approached her.

The woman swallowed a breath once more, trembling, the figure kept advancing.

‘Could you truly believe me to be such a cruel entity, my flame? Do not shed tears, for I would never fathom abandoning you to traverse this world in solitude.’ 

Dany felt her face being cupped, her eyes staring at the figure as it brushed her tear stained face.

‘Easy now, little dragon. Your inquiries shall unfurl, one delicate wingbeat at a time.’ The voice started, the tone more softer to the ear than before. 

The figure let go of her face, though it did not back away a long distance, remaining relatively close.

‘I once held hope that the sands of fate might shift for you, my muse, as time flowed on. Alas, I underestimated the resilience of your people, believing them to be stalwart allies by your side. In my naivety, I envisioned a path where they mend their ways and craft a better destiny. When it became apparent that benevolence was not in their inclination, that when their intentions wavered, devoid of goodness or improvement , I intervened. Witnessing your repeated demise stirred an emotion foreign to my immortal essence—rage, as you call it. Trust, my muse, I endeavored to alter the tragic tapestry of your past, yet the intricacies of your world proved more labyrinthine than I perceived.’

The bright figure moved, then suddenly they were in King's Landing, the day of Eddard Stark's execution.

‘What do you see before your gaze?’

With a quick change of view, Daenerys could see people throwing food at the man, he kept his head down as he talked, things which she knew were not true. 

The silver haired woman’s eyes wandered to Joffrey, the smug little bastard did not think twice before ordering his knights to behead the Stark.

She felt a wave of emptiness grasp her wounded heart.

‘He was going to be offered to be stripped of all his titles and land, yet they did not give him the chance.’ 

Dany reluctantly nodded, her mind going back to Missandei.

‘Though the ties between the Starks and you, sweet flame, are known to me, Eddard Stark suffered a grave injustice. An honorable man, as you well know. He would have made a more just and capable Hand than Tyrion Lannister ever could be. I brought him into our realm because I believe you two can rectify the wrongs done to the both of you. You, needing an honorable and honest companion, and he, seeking justice for a family loss to cold-blooded cruelty.’

Then they were back into the realm of her dreams, just as quickly as they were to King's Landing.

“He wants his family back, I cannot bring the dead to life, I am not the Night King or anything close to it.” Daenerys turned to the light once more, a saddened expression taking her face by storm.

‘In matters of life and death, little dragon, who decrees that one cannot breathe life anew? I venture to say you simply have not attempted it.’ 

As soon as the Lord's voice faded once more, she felt as if she was struck.

“If… you are able to bring people back, without having to restart everything, could you if I give you the name?” Dany reluctantly asked, trying to piece everything together.

‘I possess the capability, yet it requires your essence to locate the resting place or their souls after death, in exchange for their revived life, I would demand a piece of your being— a consequence, as some might term it.’ 

Daenerys looked at her arms for a quick moment, a weary expression painted her eyebrows.

A windy air blew around her, making it seem as the voice was laughing, making her look at the light once more.

‘Fear not, my absolute. As my chosen one, my bride and flame, such sacrifices need not burden your spirit. A braid woven from your hair or a measure of your blood shall suffice, tailored to the individual you wish to bring forth from the realms beyond.’ 

Dany sighed, maybe a little in relief, though she quickly realized he did not answer her other questions.

As soon as she opened her lips, the voice spoke again, as if reading her thoughts and already knowing what she was to say.

‘As the sunrise draws near, my flame, I bid you rest. Return to reality with the assurance that your slumber shall be gentle. Else, the night may slip away unnoticed. May you awake with renewed vigor for the morrow, as a day of considerable length awaits your presence.’

Dany felt a pressure on her forehead, as if a fire had kissed her, her eyelids felt slowly heavy. Not having the will to argue, she let herself drift away.

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---

Daenerys stood before the chamber Eddard Stark was placed in, it was relatively early, the sun lights were gentle through the Pyramid, though she thought he might have questions he wished to have answers, and she will not deny him so.

The Queen did not bother to braid her hair, as she just quickly dressed and changed the bandage of her wound before walking to his chambers.

With a quick knock on the door, she waited patiently to see if he was indeed awake.

Eddard's chamber opened, and indeed, he looked as restless as the night before. 

“Good morning, Lord Stark, I apologize for coming to you so early, but I wanted to ask if you'd like to break your fast with me?” Her eyes rested on the mess his hair looked to be, though cleaner than she had last seen it.

Eddard looked at her funny for a moment, though he opened the door a bit wider, “Of course, Your Grace.”

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Daenerys did not know what to expect as she walked towards the room she knew her advisors usually broke their fasts in, she normally either skipped the meal or had it in her chamber, even after leaving Meereen in another life.

As far as she knew, the man she was walking with was not more comfortable than her to be near one another.

The thickness in the air was certain, making her wish to break the deafening silence they both found themselves in.

Dany looked around for a moment, though something caught her eye almost instantly.

“You're limping, my lord.” She pointed out how he hopped from one leg to another.

Eddard huffed, “It was from before my death date, Jaime Lannister had cut me with his sword then threw me in a cold cell back in King's Landing. Guess not even death can heal those wounds.” He seemed amused, though his face did hold a bit of discomfort.

Daenerys was baffled, “How did you even cross the Narrow Sea like this, I'm wondering how the people you seemed to travel with did not take advantage of your injury, my lord.” 

At that, Eddard stopped his strained walking and laughed, leaving Dany to wonder what was so amusing.

“I stole the boat I arrived with, Your Grace.” He explained through his laughter, and somewhat, a small feeling of amusement made its way towards the woman as well, probably at the stupidity of the situation they were both in.

“So much for a man everyone deems so honorable, my lord.” Daenerys shook her head dismissively.

“Here,” She quickly added as she leaned lower beside him.

Now it was Eddard's turn to be baffled, “Pardon?” 

Daenerys shook her shoulders, hinting for him to grab onto them, having had enough of him limping around in her home.

“I am just fine, Your Grace, I don't need your help.” Eddard tried to dismiss her help, hopping forward down the hall they were walking into.

‘So each and every Northerner share the same level of stubbornness?’ Dany frowned, then sighed.

The Mother of Dragons walked behind the man, taking advantage of the fact he was leaning with an arm over the wall and slid herself between the two, securing an arm around his torso.

“Having my guest limp around in my home makes me look like a horrible host, my lord, so if you may, don't do this for yourself, but for my ego.” Dany looked up at him, trying not to grin as his eyebrows were so furrowed they were almost touching.

After hearing the Stark sigh deeply, she knew she had gotten her way.

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Once they had arrived at last in the Great hall, Daenerys helped the Stark sit down on a chair across from her seat, then told a handmaiden to bring them their meals.

Once the older woman returned, she had placed their meals on the table and smiled at her Queen, who replied with a ‘thank you’ in Valyrian.

Eddard slowly started eating, perhaps tasting the spices, after all it was known Essos had a variety of them, perhaps he found something he wasn't used to having.

Dany looked outside as the morning finally set, the air smelling wet from the seawater.

Then a roar erupted in the air, making her mouth turn upwards, her children had awoken as well.

“What in the hells?” Eddard whispered as he seemed to follow her gaze.

A pair of golden wings appeared in the view, Viserion seemingly flying away as his brothers followed along, perhaps chasing one another.

Daenerys looked fondly at her sons. “It seems you had not been aware of my children, Lord Stark?” She could not hold back the absolute amused smirk that appeared on her lips.

“Aye.” His eyes were wide, perhaps thinking he was seeing things.

Dany huffed, almost mockingly. “Then how did you exactly find me, my lord?” She asked.

Eddard then looked at her, a small frown appeared on his mouth. “King Robert used to speak a lot of your whereabouts before his passing, I remember the countless talks of a “Targaryen at the head of a Dothraki horde”, only the gods know how he would have reacted if word got to him that dragons were once again not just a legend.” He placed down his fork.

That piqued Dany's interest, “I seem to be a common topic of discussion for Westerosi, is that right?” 

“Your Grace, being the last of your house and having wed a Dothraki Khal can get you to be a conversation starter, I assume.” The man started. “The King was always on about how if the Dothraki crossed the Narrow Sea, it'd be doom for us all and whatnot.” Eddard seemed reluctant to share information about his late friend, and Dany could not really blame him, after all, he was his Hand before he died, and also a friend they shared a rebellion with, that being against her own father.

“Through most of my life, I suffered assassination attempts by your King's hand, mostly why me and my brother never housed a home for too long before having to run to another. A name can only get you so far I suppose.” Daenerys shared some experiences as well, currently they were not House Targaryen and House Stark, they were sharing experiences as some strangers did when bonding over a drink.

“I am aware of that, Your Grace, I won't try and justify hunting down children because he was afraid of losing his throne, however, I hope to ease your mind somehow by telling you that I did try to stop as many of those attempts as I could, however Robert was a stubborn man with a great fear of losing what he had fought and lost for.” Eddard's expression showed nothing but honesty, at last, Dany seemed to understand a bit everyone's saying about how good of a man he was.

Daenerys' eyes moved back to the outside world once more, her children were at a bigger distance now, making them seem more tiny. Her heart danced with joy as she felt them happy and loud.

“I heard he knew of my pregnancy with Khal Drogo, was that true?” She asked, her voice was somewhat colder than before.

Eddard exhaled in a heavy manner, as if he had been holding a great secret that no one came to know. “Aye, Your Grace, he had known, he planned to have the babe killed, fearful of House Targaryen restoring itself. Once again, I did talk him out of it.” He sounded guilty, for once, Dany did feel that a Stark was being truthful to her.

“I have my doubts about that, Lord Stark.” 

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Chapter Text

The day of the battle was approaching, soon enough there would be only a fortnight left before they would depart.

Daenerys was working on her stance, wooden sword in hand and leather clothes in tow.

She barely managed to slip away from her council meetings, never would she have imagined she would start detesting a man's voice as much as she currently does each time Tyrion denied the need for violence in order to keep her people safe.

The Queen was currently waiting for Grey Worm and one of her Dothraki to come and train with her, as she did have nightmares about Jorah's death back in another life.

“I didn't know you knew how to wield a sword, Your Grace.” A voice said from behind, she'd be lying if she said she didn't hear someone approach.

With a quick head movement, she saw the Lord of Winterfell lean against the crutch she had given him to help him travel easier amongst the pyramid and wherever else he wished to go.

Daenerys felt a tiny bit of nervousness build in her spine, she was caught into something no one besides three knew she was doing.

“If I plan to take back what was rightfully mine, my Lord, one must learn to defend oneself.” She let the sword hang in her hand as she relaxed into her normal straight position.

A stupid idea slipped in her mind, almost making her chuckle out loud. 

“Would you train with me, Lord Stark? I heard you were quite the swordsman during the rebellion.” She approached him, a challenging smile creeping on her lips.

Eddard looked as if he thought he had not heard her right.

“Your Grace, it seems you had forgotten I was just limping in your home not a fortnight ago, you truly wish me dead so badly?” He laughed.

“Well, If you plan to stay by my side, my Lord, we best prepare for the worst, and I believe you have not fought after your death, the two of us can help one another.” Dany reasoned, walking a small distance then threw him a wooden sword which he did catch in instinct.

“Are you quite sure, Your Grace? I do not want to injure you.” The man was accepting her challenge, giving her a taste of what people did before battle, she could tell, taunting her temper as she once saw the warriors do back in the fighting pits.

“I'd like to see you try, Stark.” Dany got into her position, perhaps a bit amused to see him struggle to find a comfortable enough position to take his stance as well.

“Aye, Go!” He gave her the go ahead, he struck first.

Daenerys brought her own sword up to defend her face, and suddenly she remembered the Night King, the dreadful day where she had lost her most loved protector.

She swirled the sword, making Eddard take a step back from the recoil. She imagined the Night King instead of the man before her, with a spin of her body, she was now standing where he stood prior.

Eddard shifted, he was an aggressive fighter, she came to realise, another hit too close for comfort. Daenerys brought her free arm on her back for more balance, with a blink of an eye, he was Jaime Lannister.

With a clench of jaw, her sword met his, if they were true ones, they would have been clinking at the pressure applied to both.

Eddard stood clumsily, then Daenerys remembered he was neither of the men she seeks revenge from, letting off some of the pressure, letting him back down if it hurt too much, maybe a little worried his injury might worsen if he did fight her as he did an enemy.

And so he did switch the foot he was confident prior on, then struck her, while she was paying a small bit of attention to his injuries.

She brought the sword to her face, a smirk playing on her lips as she saw the man holding a scoff on his.

Daenerys jumped back, with a hand still behind her back, her right hand moved up, a slight wrong move and the wood would have been between her eyes.

“You fight dirty, Stark.” She chuckled, and he huffed a mocking breath in return. Dany spinned once, and attacked, making him stumble backwards onto his good foot, then the weapon was now directed right in front of his gut. “But so do I.” 

The Stark chuckled as he lowered his sword and Daenerys rushed to give him his crutch.

“Who taught you such nasty moves, Your Grace?” He took the crutch from her hand with a smile.

Dany did not think before replying, “My mistress, he's quite the dirty fighter, you see.” Her eyes widened as soon as the words left her lips.

Eddard opened his mouth in surprise, “Aye...Well…” then his surprise turned into loud laughter, landing on her bewildered face.

Daenerys flushed slightly, though joined him into the thundering laughter.

With the corner of her eye, she saw the Mistress in question appear alongside her Master of War, which only made her laugh harder.

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‘Verily, my queen, in the annals of men, kin oft supersedes professed love for a woman. A notion to ponder—mayhaps court a soul unbound by family ties, an orphan whose heart knows not the weight of such bonds.’

Dany choked out a laugh, “Many men would put their family over my reign so perhaps I should wed an orphan, is that your solution to my worries of being betrayed?” She looked at the bright figure walking alongside her in the realms of her dreams once more.

The world beyond was warm, or perhaps she felt so because of the magic figure next to her.

Dany felt strange towards the god, he became something like a companion, and she could not for the life of her understand or believe her own words when she thinks so, befriending a god made her seem mad to her own mind.

‘I believe marriage does not perch atop your list of aspirations, my flame. Have you pondered the path you shall tread once seated upon the throne?’ 

Then a wind blew around her, which she always thought was his way of showing amusement. 

“Perhaps in another life I would have married out of convenience, however I'm not sure my heart hopes for that amount of commitment from anyone anymore. I plan on taking Daario with me once the slave cities are over with, I feel some sort of love for him, and he's fun enough to satisfy my needs, after all he asked to be my mistress.” Daenerys rested her head on the figure as they walked, here and there she saw some beautiful trees that reminded her of the ones Jorah told her were in old Valyria.

‘Indeed, your wisdom shines, my liege. The forging of alliances through marriage holds merit, and the ancient practice of taking concubines could further secure bonds. Men or women, as concubines, may pledge loyalty in exchange for an alliance with the throne.’ 

Dany paused for a moment, then shook her head. “I doubt any Lords or Ladies would let their children be a part of royal concubines, to them it would be no better than making their sons and daughters, whores for the crown.” 

‘People, in their stubborn ways, often resist change. Consider showcasing the advantages of being in your favor. Picture this — a Dothraki warrior alongside Daario Naharis, both as your lovers and esteemed concubines. Let them stand proudly as your chosen, for it exudes power—men are drawn to such strength. True, tongues may wag with gossip, but like passing winds, such murmurs shall fade, my dear.’

Daenerys exhaled, her eyebrows furrowed together and a smirk playing on her lips while thinking of the Westerosi’ reaction to her bringing lovers alongside taking the throne.

“Maybe you have a point as well, however, if they do adapt to the idea, I find it hilarious that if every house gave me a son or a daughter I would have to bed them, I'd own a brothel of my own at that rate.” She joked, easing her nerves about the upcoming battle.

‘What if the selection of concubines lay in your hands? Enlist your chosen lovers to aid in this decision, staging a contest of sorts. Not a bloodied battle, but a trial of knowledge and virtue to showcase their worthiness as both lovers and steadfast allies.’

Daenerys could not lie and say she did not like the sound of that, though from her knowledge of how the Westerosi reacted to her taking the throne in another life, she felt a little reluctant towards that idea yet, she'd discuss it with her council, once they set for Dragonstone.

Though that lays their problem with Eddard Stark, she knows she cannot send him alone to Winterfell, after all, a tragedy takes place around this time if she remembered Jon Snow’s words so long ago. He would die once more if she was to set him now.

She knew the god she currently walked with could bring back life at her request, however where would Eddard Stark's family lay.

Varys might have knowledge on the matter, even Tyrion, worth keeping in mind.

‘Concerning the impending battle, fear not, for I shall lend my aid. Begin dispatching your troops discreetly, avoiding suspicion from your council. Pose an offhanded inquiry about strategy to Eddard Stark, relying on his wisdom. Trust only your soldiers and those privy to the battle plans, as Eddard's insights shall prove value in the days to come.’

The Lord of Light was right, though she could hope the man, smart as he was, would not catch upon the double meaning of her question.

“I'll do as you say, since as you advised to send my soldiers in groups, I'll start when the sun rises. I'm grateful for your help, my Lord.” Dany smiled as she lowered her body underneath one of the trees they walked towards.

‘Indeed, my flame. Rest now, for a lengthy day awaits your presence. Greet it with renewed energy upon your awakening.’

Then she felt the warm touch of fire on her forehead again, and her eyes felt heavy once more, seeking the warmth which touched her head.

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Daenerys was walking with the injured man once more, he was healing, slowly, but healing, could almost walk without the tool given, somehow it made her a bit happier to not have him hop around the pyramid.

Eddard was surprisingly pleasant to talk with, she broke her fast with him and walked with him during the day while she had time to spare.

While he did not know much about her family due to not having been as close before her father sunk into madness, he would tell her things he heard the small folk say about her mother.

The Lord of Winterfell spoke respectfully about Rhaella, told her she looks like her mother, which perhaps, did warm her heart.

Looking at their current walk, Dany thought about the question.

“Lord Stark, if I may ask, how do you avoid as many casualties as possible with the people of a city if you mean to take over it, how did you take over King's Landing when you rebelled with Robert Baratheon?” She asked, a roar from a distance eased her nerves a small bit, her children always seemed to provide support when she needed it.

Eddard looked at her, it was a strange question to be asked out of nowhere, she could admit, though she could play it off as thinking ahead when time was to take over King's Landing herself.

“Well, Robert and I had men take people out of the city, during the night, they would slip past the gates and bring them out, having killed the guarding soldiers, it was a relatively fast task.” The man explained.

She remembered when Daario took over the city at her command alongside Jorah, it seemed such acts were more often used than she imagined.

“And…if they do not cooperate? If they don't leave the city, what would have happened then?” She pressed.

“Then they would be dead, Your Grace.” Eddard replied shortly.

Daenerys paused. “There must be another way than that, there could be a way for them to leave even if they refused, people are always stubborn, they have been since the dawn of time.” 

Eddard walked quietly for a moment, “In some situations, Your Grace, some can't help but leave some to die in order to make a point, you have to think, what if the people who opposed were to alert other guards? There are many scenarios you have little time to think about until they do happen.” 

“While you are right, my Lord, can't they…be forced out of their homes? I believe they'd be more grateful to be alive than anything else.” Dany began to think, why had she not done this in her prior lives, why had her own council not advised her to evacuate the city, why Varys of all people did not say anything, a man so caring towards the people.

Eddard seemed to think as well, “While you could do that, there are some men who would rather die in their homes than submit.” He continued.

Daenerys nodded as they continued their walk.

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A night after, she gathered her Unsullied and the second sons, explaining to them to enter the city during the night the day they arrive, with the corner of her eye, she saw Daario stand proudly as she went to explain he should do what he had done before, when he became part of her people. 

A part of her Dothraki were already there, 4 groups and 2 on the road, remaining only for her and Rhaegal to appear with part of the Unsullied and some of the second sons.

Kinvara stood by her right, as beautiful as always, as attentive as always, showing her parts of where her warriors could enter and where the guards were stationed on the map of Pentos.

The people of Essos were hers to protect, hers to love and worry for, they had shown her only love when she was here, in all her lives. She was their mother as they always called her, and a mother does not abandon her children.

She started to wonder why hadn't she left the first time or the other times before? Why had she not returned the moment she lost Viserion? 

I have no love here, only fear.

If I look back, I am lost.

Was her fate to turn mad, if it was so, why did her Lord always bring her back? Was he a lovesick fool as she was once? One too many times?

While the god did not express love towards her, perhaps his own being did not grasp the idea of loving such as a mortal does, perhaps he could not stand her death, perhaps it was his ego that had not let her die, after all, any man would be frustrated at the amount of times she failed.

But he was no man, he was no mortal, he was the part of everything that had happened that she was certain, he was there, always when she closed her eyes. Yet he did not answer all her questions, he did not explain why he was so determined for her to be alive.

Do gods feel disappointment? 

Has she perhaps disappointed him so greatly he'd have enough of trying with her and choose another? 

If I look back, I am lost.

She could recall the voice haunting her dreams like a serenade, comforting her when she first woke. 

Daenerys hated being dependent on people, always having had, despite the life times she now knew she had depended on people to wipe her tears and embrace her to death when she had lost everyone and everything.

When that comfort never came, she felt lost, if I look back I am lost.

“Daenerys.” 

Dany flinched back to reality, Kinvara standing before her.

“The Lord is worried, are you feeling alright? You seemed dazed.” Kinvara spoke in concern, a hand on the silver queen’s shoulder, giving her physical comfort.

“I feel all right, I apologise, I was thinking about the battle coming, are we ready?” She smiled at the Priestess, then saw the sun setting for the day as they waited for everything to darken.

“Yes, Your Grace, all we need is you on Rhaegal so the soldiers can follow you.” Kinvara squeezed her shoulder, a habit Dany observed she had picked up ever since she came to the pyramid.

“All right, I'm going to find Missandei, you go down and tell them to be prepared to see my son, once we're ahead in the sky, you depart.” 

Dany nodded at the woman, her palm squeezed the Priestess' hand.

Kinvara nodded back at her, then she walked away.

 

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When Tyrion woke up, he felt sore, be it the sleepless nights he had or the absolute terror he felt since he saw a very alive Ned Stark walk in his Queen's pyramid.

The dwarf left like he was in a nightmare whenever he wanted to approach the Mother of Dragons, she was with Ned, or nowhere to be found, never had he felt so pushed aside or uneasy to approach someone.

Tyrion did not talk to the Stark, injured as he was, he still had hands to strangle him with, after all he was a Lannister, and his family was killed by his house.

Hesitantly, he left his chamber, needing a drink to start the day and needing to find his Queen to discuss when they would leave Essos.

When he stepped into the throne room, it was dead quiet, besides the winds outside or Varys’ walking through the room while they waited for the Queen to make her entrance.

The small man thought what could have gone wrong with Ser Jorah and Daenerys, those days they seemed more distant than Westeros and Essos, after he had came back from his order of healing himself, everything had changed drastically, first was the stab, then everything that happened with the Red Priestess.

The treatment took less time than expected, as the man did return within five moons, thank the gods he was healthy now, of course, however his sister still sat on the throne and each day that passed, Tyrion felt more away from Daenerys than when they first met.

At last, Missandei entered the throne room, greeted them good morning then told the Unsullied soldiers to let the people who requested an audience in.

Tyrion rushed beside the woman, then looked up to her, “Are we not supposed to wait for the Queen?” He asked, confused.

Missandei met his gaze, a small smile appearing on her lips. “Her Grace is not here, Lord Tyrion.” She said sweetly.

Varys stopped walking at that, looking at the woman as well as the dwarf did.

“What — What do you mean she's not here?” He asked, baffled, Ser Jorah entered the room as well.

“Her Grace is nowhere to be found, alert the guards!” The queensguard ordered, panicked.

“There won't be any need for that, Ser, Her Grace is in Pentos, she is to take over the city, do not worry, she isn't alone, as Daario and Grey Worm are there with her, alongside soldiers.” She smiled at the men.

“What!? Why was I not informed about any of this? When did she even leave?” Tyrion demanded, frustrated, with the corner of his eye he saw Jorah look at the woman like she'd grown two heads.

“Lord Tyrion, Her Grace planned to free the slaves there and burn the market for such things, have you forgotten she is the Breaker of Chains, is she not?” She then turned to Jorah. “I know you plan on going after her, Ser, however Her Grace believed you would be safer here, since not long ago you were suffering, she was extremely worried for you, please remain here.”

 

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The city fell within a night, as planned, the second sons evacuated the people close to the gates so they could get inside, surprisingly, most of them followed along, terrified, but followed along.

The high born were taken out of their homes and forcibly kneeled outside the city, then Kinvara alongside Grey Worm called the known slavers, while the Priestess called out the more secretive ones.

“My people.” She had addressed the shaking small folk that were evacuated and the ones who came after they had taken the slavers prisoners.

“You were taken against your will since the day you came to be alive, you have been forced to follow those who were feared by your olders, you were given no choice or chance to change your lives, so let me give you that choice back. Speak against those who wronged you, and I will give you their heads.” Daenerys held her head high, Rhaegal was growling threateningly behind her, perhaps not helping her case much for the people to speak against their masters.

“Easy, they are good people.” She whispered to her son, which reluctantly pressed against her touch as the Queen waited for the people to say something.

A young man stood from the crowd, his clothes torn and skin dirty with mud. “I am Raegon, Māzis. My family were loyal slaves of Maegon Rahnaris, my family were good people, yet he had them tortured after disobeying an order. I had lost my parents in one day because of that man, I want for him to suffer the same fate as my parents.” The boy stood straight, Daenerys could see scars around his unclothed body, some were clearly fresh.

She walked away from Rhaegal, then extended her arm, in sign for the boy to step forward.

“I know this must have been a hard request of me, to speak against someone who had inflicted great fear against you, and I will give you justice for your family, I am sorry for your loss, may any gods you cherish guide their souls.” Daenerys then looked back at the crowd. 

“Does anyone else wish to speak against this Master? I am here to hear you, to give you your life back, start anew if you so wish. You will not have to suffer anymore from their tyranny!” She questioned, seeing some shaken glares across the crowd as they looked at one another.

Then it started, “That man had my brother killed! He let his son abuse my sisters, he then sold them to brothels!”, “He had raped the woman I loved!”, “He had beaten my mother, a woman forced to serve for his pleasure!”

Many voices were to speak against the man, on cue, Grey Worm pushed the man before her, he was enraged, she could tell as much from the red faced look he gave her when he was forced once again to his knees.

“Maegon Rahnaris, do you have any last words?” She asked, holding her hand to Grey Worm.

“You are nothing but a foreign whore who does not know her place —” She moved her finger and then Grey Worm struck.

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Chapter Text

“That was one of the most foolish things you could have done, Your Grace, not letting your council know about your whereabouts, not discussing your moves with us is idiotic at best and mad at worst.” Varys scolded her like she was a silly maiden who hadn't done her duties as a princess, and honestly after the battle and the blood she had shed, his opinions are the least of her worries.

“Oh but I have discussed it, Lord Varys, Master of Whisperers, I discussed it with my commander, with Missandei, with Captain Daario Naharis, I believe I discussed it with people, I didn't just wake up one morning and decided to conquer Essos, people die every single fucking day due to being slaves. What's the iron throne worth if my people are dying for not following a simple command as cleaning their masters cloak. Spare me, Varys, I did not seek your council after battle anyway.” Daenerys had enough of all the so-called wise men around her for a day, truth be told she just wanted to embrace Ser Jorah and apologize for being secretive, perhaps tell him she appreciates him staying behind.

She could sense the tension in her throne room, gods be good if she won't snap at the next person who breathes her way. Missandei sighed beside her as she was undoing her braids which were horribly tangled, the Lord of Winterfell stood aside and listened to their argument, of course he must've thought of her mad as well by the way her council was putting it, she could not careless in that moment, she just wanted peace, the thrill of battle ran out days ago.

“Your Grace, you cannot just make decisions like this, this was reckless, really reckless, Pentos held their market—”

“Market of slaves you mean, Lord Tyrion, have you no damn shame in that mouth of yours? How long were you a slave for when you and Ser Jorah got captured? You grew up with a golden spoon by your mouth and wine in hand, you have no damn idea what you're talking about, gods be good before I will snap at you all one day and you will call madness on me because I did something without the counsel of people I knew for a couple of moons at best. I grew up in exile my Lord, I did not know if I was to live another day, I was starved, frightened and alone while my brother dwelled into self hatred and seeking the idea of revenge for being forced to live as such. I will not stand aside and see boys and girls that have not yet bloomed be hung by their necks because the nobles could not give two shits about them as they went on about their day, while being sure they had something to eat and somewhere to sleep.” Daenerys could rant on and on about the hurt and betrayal she was feeling by all the men around her, spare her Bear and Grey Worm alongside Daario and her bloodriders.

Her rant looked like she had struck the men with an iron hand by the looks of their faces, and truthfully she felt lighter, her words were not nearly as harsh as she wanted to be, maybe she wanted to scream at them both for not giving her the time of day to grieve for the one woman who always stuck by her side, for choosing someone with a cock rather than help her not go mad by being there for her.

She could not let the blank mask slip, remembering the absolute hell she went through once it broke.

“If you think me freeing people from chains is such a maddening thing to do, that it was such a rash decision, fine then, find yourselves another Queen or King who would not spare a second glance to seeing a child be hung, find yourself someone who will sit on your fucking throne and drink all day and whore all night like your late King Robert. I truly apologize for speaking ill of him, Lord Stark, I know speaking ill of the dead does not make me look any better and I know he was a close companion to you, however, my Lords, if that is who you you'd like to stay on that damned throne, be my guest, my people are here, in Essos, not somewhere where the land clearly has had enough of my House. Good evening to you all, Ser Jorah, please seek me at my chambers.” Daenerys moved and left the throne room, feeling caged and angry, too angry to remain anywhere and speak with the men again, she needed her people close to her, and nothing else.

Missandei remained behind for a moment, looking at the two Lords with a disappointed face, then was quick to follow her queen.

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“Khaleesi.” Ser Jorah said as he entered her chambers.

“Remember when my only life goal was to go home, Ser Jorah?” She asked, her hand hovering over the goblet of wine she did not dare touch.

“Yes, Khaleesi, you were quite adamant on going home, so was your brother, you however had more pure reasons for doing so.” Daenerys could tell he was tense, afraid for her, after all they partially drifted ever since she came back to life, though that he did not know.

“I did not know any other purpose than the iron throne, now however, people need me, people here need me, not some Lords I never got to know and who would go beyond just to not bend to a “foreign whore”, and I…” She paused, throat cutting her sentence short, oh how she wished to be truthful with him with little consequence. 

“... I apologize I dragged you along this way, I know you wanted to go back home, back to your family, to the North. I'll… I'll see you to arrive safely.” Daenerys could feel a weight falling on her shoulders, perhaps he would be safer than being by her side, better than dying protecting her.

I didn't know Ser Jorah well, but I know this. If he could have chosen a way to die, it would have been protecting you. Jon Snow's words thundered her memory.

‘As true as that may be, my own love for the man would stand before him dying in my arms again.’ Daenerys thought sadly, as the man did not make a sound to speak.

“Khaleesi…are you dismissing me? Have I done something to betray your trust besides the reasons you were previously aware of? If I did, please let me regain your trust, I sworn my sword and life to you before and I'll do it again.” Jorah held a pained expression on his face, approaching her slowly.

“You would be safer home, safer than you ever would with me… I'll find the pardon you were given before, so you can return—” “Daenerys.”

Her poor explanation was cut off by him standing right before her. Looking down at her seated form, Jorah brought his sword up from his waist and laid it on the ground as he lowered himself alongside it.

“I swear to serve you loyally and to protect you with my life. I will be your sword and shield, I shall hold no allegiance but to you. My life and honor are yo—”, “Jorah, please stand up.” Daenerys stopped him from repeating his vows shortly after she realized what he was doing.

He however did not stand up, just turned his head to look at her, and then she broke.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.” She whispered to him as her voice broke all ice that it was covered in, melting like fire had rained upon it, leaving it to leak.

“Khaleesi, what is wrong?” He whispered back, coming closer as his arms rested on hers. 

“I'm so sorry I didn't protect you like you did so many times, I'm sorry you had to die in order to protect me, I'm sorry I kept the battle from you, I'm sorry you had to come back to this cursed life and die as many times as I.” She sobbed in her palms, the grief of memories coming back once more as she finally had a moment of intimacy with the man.

The look of utter confusion on her knight's face could haunt her nightmares and she didn't care. She cried, trying to make herself disappear, trying to make herself smaller than her usual form.

Not knowing what to do, Jorah came closer, bringing her in his arms as she cried her heart's horrors.

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‘Ah, you return sooner than anticipated, little heart.’

Daenerys blinks back the bliss of the light of the world beyond. She does not remember falling asleep for them to meet again.

“What happened?” She asks the obvious, still, she wanted an answer to how she ended up here so early.

‘In Ser Jorah’s arms, sweet one, you succumbed to exhaustion, fainting away. Truth be told, I anticipated a swifter decent into slumber, yet you proved a clever trickster, defying my expectations twice. It appears your council remains remarkably the same across lifetimes. While relieved that the storm within you found release, remember, consequences linger for the fury you unleashed.’

The Queen remembered briefly snapping at her council — were they still her council? She didn't know if she would wake up and they would be gone, seemed like something they would do, or well, perhaps that's wishful thinking.

“What a great thing, once I awake they would betray me sooner than ever before, or well I can't call it betrayal, we were not close yet in this life, however I expect to be poisoned in the following days.” Daenerys sighed, closing her eyes in what she thought was frustration, remaining lain across the cloudy looking ground around the tree she last departed from.

‘My dearest, it wounds me to witness your surrender to despair. Fear not poisoning, for Tyrion Lannister shall keep his distance, pondering his missteps. The Master of Whisperers contemplates his approach, considering an extended stay in Essos due to the thwarted plans. Anticipate council against leaving Meereen for at least four more moons. Though the arrival of Greyjoy ships looms on the horizon.’

Daenerys forgot for just a moment that she is to be summoned by Yara Greyjoy and her brother to kill their uncle.

If her last life was clear enough, Yara had interest in women as she suggested an alliance by marriage before, not sure what she'd say to her concubines idea though.

“I'm far aware that I need to take the iron throne, however will I have enough of my armies to protect my people? Essos can't be left alone, and I'd rather die here than in battle with blood thirsty Lannisters and their stuck up Lords.” She sighed, opening her eyes as she felt more warmth near her, feeling the presence of the god near, beside her, and surely enough there he was, the blinding figure laying next to her own.

‘Fear not, my love, for your people shall be shielded. As the Greyjoys approach, seeking an alliance as history foretells, your ranks will burgeon — nearly triple the current Dothraki strength. Armies, inspired by your conquest of Essos, shall rally to your side. The campaign's end is nigh, destined to unfold before the fifth moon graces the night sky.’

Daenerys stayed quiet, thinking. ‘You’re a conqueror.’ Daario had said to her before, perhaps she didn't consider her ever needing to conquer anything, in another life she was used to Viserys’ ideas of ruling, now however, she can save people who had always showed her nothing but devotion.

As her eyelids grew heavily slowly, a thought echoed through her mind, ‘My love'

‘My love’

‘My love’

Did anyone ever call her such an affectionate nickname—

‘As you surrender to the embrace of slumber, sweet one, let not worry longer for your knight. Kinvara, in her wisdom, has gently woven a tale of your vulnerability to him. Though, comprehension may dance on the periphery, acknowledgement has found its way. As the dawn unveils, a tender discussion awaits. Dream sweetly, my cherished bride.’

Then as she did many nights before, she felt the hot touch on her forehead, making her body seem to fly as it searched for the warmth.

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Chapter Text

In her dreams, an unexpected thing interrupts the usual calm nothingness that are her dreams.

Daenerys realized a short while after her and the Lord started to talk more and more, he was not in her dreams, it was rather a world beyond her fantasies, another world, he always took her there before bidding her sleep.

The Queen feels a presence behind her, slowly, she looks back.

If I look back I am lost.

“Hello…?” Bright violet eyes meet her own, silver curls on tow and such pureness it makes her want to vomit.

“Hello there, little lady.” Daenerys greets back.

The little girl blushed, “Oh no, I am not a lady, my Lady! My brother is the king, I am just here.” She grins.

Daenerys gulps reluctantly, however an ever so small smile overtakes her lips, “Then who might you be, little lady?” 

“Oh…my brother doesn't like it when I present myself without his knowledge.” The little girl does not stop grinning however. “But… you seem nice, my brother said to not trust anyone but him, but you look like how he described mama.”

Rhaella, how he described Rhaella.

“My…my name is Daenerys…he sometimes says I don't deserve my last name, I'm sorry I can't provide it to you, he's afraid, you know? The false King hates us and will not stop until we sleep and not wake up, but my brother will stop him, he vowed.” The little dragon tilts her head.

“Hello, Daenerys Targaryen.” Dany greets her again.

“You…you know who I am?” The little princess asks quizzingly, confusion spreads on her little face.

“Why of course, you are the Princess of the seven kingdoms, only a Targaryen bears the beauty of your hair and eyes.” She reasons.

“I am no Princess, my Lady, once my brother takes back his throne, I will be wed to him or someone else, he says, “perhaps you deserve a punishment for taking mother away from me” he often told me.” Dany could see tears steaming behind those little afraid eyes.

His throne.

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When she opens her eyes, a knock comes to the door of her chambers, quickly, she gets up from her restless sleep and opens it.

Before her stood Eddard Stark.

“Your Grace, I hope you can excuse the early visit, consider this the same you have done when I first came to you.” He refers to the day she came to his chambers when the sun was at its gentlest.

“Of course, my Lord, please, have a seat.” 

The two of them sat at the table of her chambers, he rested his walking tool next to the table then looked at her.

“What you said back there, about being in exile and having no hope to live another day.” He started. “Ever since I came to your door, I wondered if I did the right thing when I told Robert all those years ago to not kill you, to not become a babe slayer.” he continued, Dany could not catch the double meaning of his words.

She chuckles without humor, “What have I done to ignite your hatred towards me, Lord Stark?” When she looks at him she sees the reflection of Jon Snow of so many life times ago.

It makes her sick somewhat, but he has a point, perhaps it would have been better if she did not live a day after her crib.

“You mistaken me, Your Grace. It is not hatred, it is guilt. I stopped him from killing you, and I did not stop him from killing your mother, she should have lived, should have had the chance to grow old.” Eddard sounded honest, remorseful.

I want my mother. A little voice whispered in the back of her head.

Little Daenerys only wanted her mother, to apologize for taking her away from her brother while in the birthing bed she then found grave, having been forced into labor as her and Viserys were trying to escape the siege that was Robert's wrath.

“My father raped my mother repeatedly for each time he had burned someone, some say her screams could be heard through all of King's Landing.” Dany trailed off for a heart beat. “I came to this world as a misfortune of those nights, those hellish damned nights.” 

“And I took my mother from my brother, my only living kin, he deserved a mother and I took her from him.” When she finished, she felt numb, remembering the little girl in her dreams.

Eddard was listening, watching her, looking at her as if she was her mother, his face a wingbeat away from breaking the stoic natural expression.

“Perhaps my punishment for taking my brother's only parent, is living with the guilt, survivor's guilt, as the Maesters call it. So, Stark, I do wish you did not convince your fucker of a King to let me live with the misery.” Dany looked him dead in the eye, as she wished she could have looked at Jon Snow when he told his sisters who he was, as she wished to look at the dwarf when he threw her pin down the flight of stairs on the broken Red Keep.

Her words did not shake the Warden of the North as she knew they would not, as the stubborn Starks refused to show weakness towards the enemy, and she was their sworn enemy; she had vowed in her death's sleep while looking at the memory of a beautiful living Missandei and Jorah.

“For the longest time I had known, I hated Targaryens. Your father killed my brother and father, then your brother took my sister, and I stood with Robert Baratheon because he swore to give me the justice I hoped for ever since I was a fuckin’ greenboy.” Eddard matched her stare, however she could see his eyes were not icy, they were angry, hateful, but not towards her.

‘My brother did not take your sister, your own friend disgusted her to the ends of the world, you know that and so do I, you however have no idea that I do or that I know who you hid from the same man you stood with.’ Dany bitterly thought, be it the bitter feeling that they always managed to put her brother as the bad mad Targaryen everyone portrayed him as, sure the man was no saint, that is something he would never have been and his first wife was a perfect example of that, his stupid love caused wars, he however was not the raper people poisoned everyone to believe.

Would the older brother have been kind to her? Would him being alive have changed Viserys instead of living only to grow in hatred and fear?

“When I woke up from the darkness, may the gods know how long I was in there, there was a light at the end of an endless tunnel. When I woke up and had the nastiest scar on my neck that should have killed me again, I heard talks of my family dead, my wife, dead, my oldest son decapitated while trying to fight for my justice, my oldest daughter abused by the Prince Robert promised to treat her right, also supposed dead. I had nothin’ left but to return to Winterfell and pray that my other sons and daughter were there alive. I thought of my other children, though the more I walked, the more horror met me.” He looked into the goblet of wine in front of him like he was looking at a reflection of himself, and for the first time, she felt as if she could relate to him.

“Winterfell, taken, my home taken from me, from my family. I would have returned there out of bitterness to at last die with my family.” Eddard paused, “Call it madness, Your Grace, I am anything but a sane man, a light spoke to me, one cold night in which I wanted to depart from that graveyard that was King's Landing, it spoke to me.” 

R'hllor. A name rang in her ear, the God who called himself her husband, her other half.

“„Remember that girl you saved from being butchered, a Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing.” — It said. As if I knew the fuck to do with a girl who from all I knew had a Dothraki horde behind her and a husband in tow, I hated your family, so I sat and thought, what in the heavens did that light try to say. Then on another night, it appeared again; „Find her, she'll give you the justice you so long for, mend what you regret for not helping her mother, find her and she will have the answers.” I remember feeling mad, feeling like each day I lived I was losing every bit of sense that I had in mind. So I said gods be damned because nothing made sense anymore, and stole a ship, having nothing to lose or win anymore.” The man stopped speaking, then looked at her again.

Is this what a father should have been like? Is this what fathers do for their children? Look for the enemy, knowing they could end up dead in doing so, just to get justice for their children?

Dany wanted to dwell in her own loss but then, she had nothing to give to the man to help him.

I can give him his children back, an eye for an eye and the world goes dark. A voice whispered in her ear.

Eddard deserved his children and wife back, she vowed in her mind. May R'hllor give her the strength to do so, may her husband help her give the man before her what he deserved, resentment be damned.

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“Are you a Queen, my lady?” The small girl asked as they sat in the darkness that was the realm of dreams.

Dany was surprised when she did not find herself back in her Lord's domain, but instead directly in her dreams, when she wanted to talk to him, she felt disappointed to not find him waiting for her as always, but this little girl warmed what was left of her wounded heart.

“No… not really, sweet girl. I am, well I don't know what I currently am, but I know that I have to help my people, free them, however I do not rule the free people like a queen would.” Dany smiled at the little girl.

Daenerys' eyes opened wide for a moment, a curious little expression appeared. “Are you…what my brother calls, “The protect of the realm "?" She asked happily. “Maybe you can protect us too.” The last part was quieter, more afraid.

Dany remembered when all she wanted was love and protection, mayhaps why she named her most affectionate son after her brother, in hopes to fill the gaps he did not.

“I will protect you, sweet girl, that is what I will do with everything I have.” Dany leaned down and kissed the little girls on top of her head.

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After Dany talked with Eddard, she had not left her chambers, commanding that she was to be left alone for the rest of the day.

The Queen slept, dreaming of a child, her, a child she felt so protective of.

The following day, Jorah came to her door, asking to speak. Dany granted his wish, telling her Unsullied soldiers that guarded her door to let him in.

He bore such uncertainty on his face it cracked her heart.

“Khaleesi.” Just as the day when she called him to her chambers, only now she was not drinking her sorrows away.

“I expect you have many questions, please sit.” Dany told him, a small sympathetic smile appearing on her lips.

The man followed the command, uneasily seating before her.

“I will answer everything Kinvara did not, I know she can be very cryptic and such, please start.” Daenerys quickly spoke, hating the suffocating air between them.

At last Jorah opened his mouth, “You…died.” He started off, then his pained expression found her face.

“Yes. You died as well my dear Bear, each time protecting me, and I hate myself for it more than you can imagine.” Daenerys frowned, perhaps they were not the right words, maybe it was insulting for him that she felt that way, who knew.

“Khaleesi, I…do not even know how to ask what or how. You lost your sons, is that right?” He spoke so reluctantly it, scared he was approaching a sacred subject.

Dany inhaled sharply but spoke slowly, “Yes. V— Viserion was the first to suffer such fate, my sweet boy was gone while fighting for the North time and time again. Rhaegal followed his brother's fate, dying by a machine of Euron Greyjoy, called a scorpion.” The amount of intimacy the conversation was offering the both of them made her sick, not having yet had the time to accommodate such personal interactions once more, feeling trapped, feeling like she wanted to flee the danger that was the emotional bond.

“I’m sorry, I wish I could somehow have known and stopped it, stopped everything.” He looked at her, slowly, almost hesitantly, his hands traveled on the table to her side to catch hold of her own.

The affection made her want to jump out of her skin. Dany always trusted Jorah, she was not being fair, her heart and mind were not being fair, she was scared out of her mind to be this close to a man.

“Khaleesi, you're shaking!” He whispered, alarmed, quickly raising to his feet and jumping beside her, making her flinch violently.

“I— I'm sorry, Jorah, it's just, I seem to panic in scenarios like this one, intimate, extremely vulnerable, I hate feeling so vulnerable.” She whispered back an apology, thinking back to how reluctant she was to be close even with Daario, her sweet mistress, who gave her a look of understanding each time she flinched away from his touch, even when he knew nothing of the storm that were her emotions.

Jorah paused, his arms freezing on her body, making her somehow wish to have taken her words back.

“Would you feel more secure if I gave you more space, I hate seeing you afraid, Khaleesi.” Jorah gave her an option that made her freeze as well.

“I— I don't really know what I want, but, I don't want you far, I lost you way too many times, that is the last thing I want I just… I don't know, I want you close, I want to cry in your arms until my eyes fall out, but I can't.” Daenerys hated crying, dragons don't cry, she was a dragon, where did this unshakable fear come from.

“I understand.” Jorah knew he did not, she knew he did not, but he stepped back, staying beside her, then kneeling beside her, showing her that she is in control of the situation, trying to give her control back.

Dany sniffed, then stuttered out, “Tyrion betrayed me, Varys ended up poisoning me in hopes to get rid of the madness that slowly grasped my mind after…after I lost you, after I lost Missandei, my sons, everything.” 

“Why in the hells would Varys do such a thing? I thought the dwarf loved you as I do, well, as I do while serving you, my Queen, my ruler.” His eyebrows narrowed, his voice barely a whisper, quickly correcting his meaning.

Daenerys took a deep breath, thinking. She thought of telling him about the exact reason why they wanted to get rid of her, however, they had a Stark in their home, she could not risk anything.

“They want a King, Jorah, they want someone with a cock to rule them. As for Tyrion, did we really expect better? He loves his family more than his own being, no matter the amount of times Cersei will try and kill him, no amount of times Jaime chooses Cersei over him.” Dany finished with a humorless chuckle, a sad smile appearing on her face as she tried to calm down the shaking.

“You are the rightful heir, Khaleesi, you fought with everything you had to be on that throne, didn't they see that? Don't they know that?” He was slowly getting angrier, he was upset for her.

“What if… what if I'm not the heir, Jorah, what if someone has a better claim than me?” Dany's eyes felt tired, she felt hopeless, too much, she felt everything and nothing at the same time.

“What? Who in the world would have a better claim than you, Khaleesi, you're the last standing Targaryen and I don't think your brother has any plans on coming back as Eddard Stark did.” He patted her arm, Daenerys now saw physical touch was always his way to try and comfort her, giving her what he knew she used to desperately wish for, love, security, comfort.

“If there was someone, would you abandon me for them? For the rightful heir to the iron throne?” Daenerys' eyes bore into his, then she gave up on trying to lie to herself; she felt terrified of him and the others choosing to follow someone else.

Jorah's expressions changed rapidly, anger, shock, perhaps even offended. “What the fuck gave you that impression?” He whispered in astonishment.

“You always wanted to go home if I recall correctly, in each life of mine, home was your goal, you prayed for home, remember? What if that person could give you your home, would you leave me behind? For the rightful heir, for a king.” She did not move her eyes from him, holding her ground, she had control, she cannot lose control of anything again.

Ser Jorah looked at her as if she had grown horns, “Khaleesi, I chose you, I chose to serve you. I chose to stay by your side after you exiled me, I chose to come back to you, you are my queen, I love you.” There it was, his confession, however this time they were not in a rush, but she was scared out of her mind as she was the other times he had said it.

“Jorah—” “I know.” He stopped her, “I know you cannot love me like I do, your love is a precious thing, but when you look at me I feel like I am yours, your family, and that is more than a fool like me could ever ask for. However, I would rather die again than choose any other king, or queen or anything. I am yours to command, my life is yours.” Jorah said firmly, repeating the last of his vows as her knight, his eyebrows furrowed, as if his life depended on her knowing where his loyalty stood.

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Two moons have passed, Essos was her's, or well, currently, she had killed more people than she could recall she ever did in the continent.

Khaleesi they called her, Mhysa they shouted, Khal they declared, Goddess they spoke.

Daenerys obtained far too many titles in her conquest, R'hllor was right however. Dothraki seek the most powerful, so they followed her, more and more each day.

Khal Daenerys, they said. She was no more Khaleesi to many, she obtained the right to be called a Khal on her own, in their eyes, she was magical, and Dothraki did not dare to oppose magic.

The slave cities fell quickly, it was laughable, slavers did not think twice, they never did, security was weak, their armies were forced to serve and quick to fall.

Parting her armies into groups and sending them to each and every city with known slave markets and not opposing the legality to own slaves had their downfall beautifully.

Daario led groups to Lys alongside Qhono, then the word spread through all of Essos.

She flew with Viserion to Qarth alongside a part of the armies that followed from the already taken cities, supporting her conquest. As well as Jorah, who stuck by her side no matter the countless arguments and worries about his safety, he was a man with a mission, that being to protect her with everything he had, to make her secure again.

Daenerys remembered her other lives, how could she have let those people die? It was no lie that once she was denounced dead by Tyrion, all her people would have fallen back into chains and knowing him, he wouldn't have done anything to stop it if Daario was to ever get word that she had died.

‘Fucking cunt.’ Dany thought as she was flying back to Meereen.

Her conquest did not go to Braavos, it was a free city, she had no desire to take over something that did not need to be taken.

Daario must have already arrived back, as well as her Dothraki blood rider.

“You are my people.” She told her riders, “I need you to protect them like you protect me, they're my people too, as you are.” 

Daenerys thought of Varys, of Tyrion. The men did not have time to approach her as she was never in Meereen for too long before taking off to another battle, ‘I will not let my people fall back into chains’ were the last words spoken between them, she emphasized and stressed that her people were hers to protect, and they did not dare test her dragon temper.

Kinvara spoke to her through the fire, a spell she had taught Dany as the Queen commanded her to not follow alongside most of her battles, fear makes a person stupid, she had said back, however did not protest, instead firmly saying she needs a way to communicate with each other. 

Her Lord appeared frequently through the flames, now that she knew a bit how to look into it. He seemed always worried, always there.

It made her feel not alone, made her feel secure.

Jorah rode ahead with a couple of days, ‘Dragons arrive faster’ she had told him.

Everything was going well, too well, she knew there would be consequences for destroying years of tradition and laws, but everything could come after.

Slavers will never give up and she knows, but neither will she.

An Iron Bank representative came to her while she went over to Lys to talk to the city's people, Daenerys figured she would have to face the consequences of the chaos that were the deaths of hundreds of masters, but she would never regret it, no matter what Varys, no matter what the bank, no matter what anyone said.

The representative explained the situation, she would need to pay them the money the masters gave the bank to own the markets.

Their deal was fair, she would pay them the money and they would recognise her as the ruler of Essos and support her cause since there were loads of Nobles who owed the bank a fortune.

Grey Worm offered to have his commanders teach the people of the taken cities to defend themselves, to form a bigger army for each city and she agreed.

For the payment, her Dothraki commanders suggested that to replace the slave markets they could open themselves to trades, the past slaves could earn from their skills and they could be given a tax each moon for supplies given by their Khaleesi.

The councils she had left in each of the cities had come to a meeting she had posted back in Qarth, suggesting their own ideas for ways to pay the bank back.

“Build a better world” Daenerys said a thousand times over in her lives, and that's what she will do.

 

 

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Chapter Text

Dany arrived in Meereen as the sun began to settle for dawn.

She quickly greeted Jorah and Missandei before retreating to her chambers, dismissing her best friend from helping her bathe and untangle her hair, insisting she just wanted to rest, everything could wait.

Daenerys heard noise from her chamber window, she felt her heartbeat quicken, but looking towards the way the noise was coming from, she saw a familiar hand help itself up the opening.

The Queen sighed in relief, though an amused breath left her lips afterwards.

Daario hopped the next moment into her chambers. Just as handsome as the first time they found themselves in this scenario.

“You know, sometimes I wonder if you know how to use a door.” She teased, his eyes falling on her figure quickly as he heard her voice.

The man laughed softly at her remark, then approached her.

“You really need better guards around the pyramid, who knows, maybe you'll have another admirer approach you like I, and I would be heartbroken.” Daario grinned, though stopped in front of her, as if asking for permission to come closer.

“Then, we are both lucky that you, my dear lover, have already thought about that and we can catch that so-called admirer.” Dany raised her gaze ever so slightly to meet his eye, a little reluctant, a little more distant, but she signaled with her finger for him to lean down to her level.

He did as commanded, then Daenerys moved forward and pressed her lips on his forehead.

“I missed you.” He whispered as her mouth left his skin, ever so gently, ever so cautious.

Dany pressed her own forehead against his, allowing more intimacy than the other times ever since she came back, “I missed you too.” She whispered back.

The man leaned back after a few heartbeats, cocky grin in tow and proud look in the eye.

“So, Essos is yours, my Queen.” He started, “I assume the next goal is the Iron Throne?” He raised his eyebrows as he asked.

“Well I assume so, I need Essos to be able to stabilize itself until I take the throne and will be able to come back, thus why I needed more time than originally thought.” Daenerys smiled fondly of her work, though, her gaze spotted some uneasiness in the man before her.

Daario failed to mask his emotions when he was alone with her, she now noticed. Either that or she was more good at reading people than her past lives.

“I heard your advisors talk, or well, the two that came from the West, since I can't call them your advisors alone, that'd give Missandei a bad name, me as well but she's the best of us.” He chuckled as she grinned when he mentioned her friend, though worry began to creep up her spine, she didn't remember a conversation that the men could have had at this time around, but again, she had made obvious changes.

“And were they saying?” Dany asked, a small tilt of her head following along.

“Planning your next destination and such, but there was something that stung, call me a sensible man if you must.” Daario sighed, making her even more worried about what that conversation could have been about.

“You're…leaving the Second Sons here, so that means you're leaving me here as well from what I gathered.” He looked anywhere but her gaze, then when he continued, his eyes appeared in she remembered as hurt, when she left him in Meereen because she thought of alliances.

Dany shook her head in disagreement, “Daario, what you heard from them you heard from them only. I don't believe I had given you such an order or command.” She tried to reassure him, “You will be my concubine.” 

Daario's eyes widened at the statement, perhaps he did fully expect to be left behind, Daenerys felt a bit happy at the suggestion her Lord had brought up.

“Concubine? I haven't heard any queens that were given such luxury, and I also haven't heard about concubines in years, there aren't any recent records of such traditions.” He looked at her suspiciously, though a cheeky smile played on his lips, obviously relieved.

“You see, my precious, once I am Queen there will be many changes, especially on the unfair treatment of women and their rights to do this and that.” Dany smiled back, “Royal concubines instead of marriage, while not as plausible as a marriage, houses can unite their children with the crown by becoming concubines. You, sweet love, will be an example of why being a concubine isn't degrading or a disgrace to a house. You will have to learn about Westeros and such but I know you can manage, in exchange, I will pamper you and let you warm my bed, if lucky, your child will not know of being a bastard, but a prince.” Daenerys laid her hand on his by the end of her explanation.

Daario seemed semi struck by what she had just put on the table of possibilities.

Daenerys remembered her curse a little too well, however, some nights before she set to fly back to Meereen, she had confided in Kinvara to ask whether the witch’s words were ever true and she had lived in a lie all of her entire lives.

“Your womb is as healthy as one can be, sweet one. When the woman took your husband, she only had one sacrifice, that being your unborn son, thus she was unable to curse both you and Drogo.” Kinvara told her softly through the flames.

“But— his horse, we took his horse there, should that not be a second sacrifice?” Dany demanded, frustrated, angry, confused. Emotions swirling in her mind like the storm in which she was born.

“His horse was not a sacrifice. To use blood magic, you need alive beings, once his horse had been killed, it was as good as useless, for powerful spells you need human lives.” 

Daenerys screamed that night. Screamed in every emotion she had ever known. Her son roared, confused as to why his mother was so enraged, wanting to seek vengeance for her anger. Viserion, her sweet boy.

All her life, the one she remembered at least, she mourned in sorrow that she will never have children, she will not be able to continue her bloodline. 

All for a lie.

A fucking lie costed her hopes and dreams to make her ancestors proud by letting the Targaryen blood continue.

“You did not bear children while being coupled with people, sweet one, because you gave up on the hope of being able to have them. Your hope is power in this case, when you gave up hope, it was close to impossible for little yous to roam around. It's sort of magical, as you are partially magical as well.” 

Kinvara explained the lack of pregnancy she had experienced, and it felt so unbelievable, too tale like to be true, however she gave up on trying to make sense of the impossible a long time before.

“My child?” Daario asked, confused, astonished even. “My queen, I do not wish to bear any children with anyone, and I only ever intended on only letting you bed me if you gave me the honor to follow you, to fight for you. I don't want a crown, I want you, I love you, and I make you happy, you know I do.” He seemed sad at the idea of having children, was he thinking that she would force him to have them? No, not now or ever.

“Not anyone?” She faked a small pout, “Not even your Queen?” She asked.

Daario opened his mouth, his eyes wide and surprised. “But, the curse, you told me about a curse…” He seemed conflicted.

“The curse happened to be a lie.” She gave him a small smile. “Who knew witches lied, and I happened to be the fool to believe it. Kinvara helped me realize so.”

Daario huffed a breath, be it in frustration that she berated herself or amusement of the fact she was lied to, “If a witch told me I would lose my cock tomorrow, I would've believed her. Don't call yourself a fool, witches most of the time are terrifying and you were grieving, the more reason for you to be vulnerable.” 

Daenerys laughed at his profanity, “I hope you do not mind that I will need to bear others’ children as well, since I am to grant children to your fellow concubines, thus the deal, not marriage since it is of little interest to me, but royal concubines, there will be children and I will name heir. Houses will revolt of course, but we can worry about that when I take the throne.”

Her captain beamed, she wasn't sure she saw him so happy since he became her mistress. “This is more than I could ever have imagined, not only I will be by your side but I will be put on display for your favor, my Queen, I am thrilled and eager to see where this will take us.” He paused for a moment, his face turning more gentle. “Thank you, Dany. For believing I would not ruin your imagine and for taking me with you.” He leaned forward, taking her hands in his and squeezing them.

Daario froze for a moment, “I wish to kiss you. I know you don't feel safe with anyone, not even the old man, however I am a selfish son of a whore and I dare to ask you to grant me one wish as your first official concubine.” He whispered, his voice almost barely audible.

Dany's breath hitched. ‘You are my queen, now and always’ rang through her mind, then remembered the pain that grasped her heart, making the wound in her chest hurt like it never has before.

“He won't hurt me, he's not them.” She whispered to herself, quietly, hoping the man before her did not hear anything that left her lips.

“All right, however I am the one who will kiss you.” She held onto the control given to her, and as soon as he nodded, her lips came shy on his, scared, reluctant.

Daenerys almost immediately noticed that he was relaxed against her, not stiff, not on edge like the man who had struck her with a dagger. Daario's hands were both on her, holding her close, not reaching for anything but her.

Dany leaned back, needing to distance herself from the immense amount of intimacy and emotions that were in that kiss.

Daario smiled at her, his eyes held that same look of understanding he gave her so many times before.

It will take time for her to be fine again, and while not knowing what roamed in her mind, her lover did not press forward and kept distance, unknowingly to himself, he helped her broken heart heal, as did her other companions.

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“Khaleesi, Ironborn ships arrived on our shores.” Ser Jorah said instead of his usual greeting, he seemed distraught, but Dany nodded in his direction and followed him to the throne room.

Daenerys stole glances to her sworn bear as they walked, her hand finding a place on his back as she patted him, silent reassurance as she called it.

While her love language was not sure, she tried to push past her fears and show physicality to her friends, trying her best to not feel terrified each time she had encountered intimacy. It was working, slowly, but working.

Jorah gave her a small smile in return, she knew he had not had the best relationship with the Westerosi ever since his exile, though she would be his shield as he was her’s.

As they walked through the pyramid, she spotted Eddard Stark leaning against a wall, hearing them approach, he looked at their direction.

“Your Grace, I happen to have seen the ships outside, I was going to request to allow me to attend this meeting if you'll have me.” Eddard spoke first as he greeted her.

Then it clicked, digging in her memory, Yara's brother had taken over Winterfell, supposedly killed “Bran” and “Rickon”, Eddard must've heard about it while making his way through King’s Landing, no doubt wanting to eat the boy's head right off his shoulder.

“Stay qisi, Ser Jorah, rhellaya anna avoid ale bloodshed qafat.” Daenerys whispered to the man beside her. Stay close, Ser Jorah, help me avoid some bloodshed please.

Dany was going to protect Theon Greyjoy, for his bravery in another life, ‘I want to fight for Winterfell’ he told Sansa Stark. The boy was a shadow of whispers she heard around the North, afraid, distraught. If she remembered correctly he died during the long night. 

Though she would need to protect said boy in a way to not raise flags towards her own self, so she nodded towards the Warden of the North and they began to walk again.

“My Lord, I need to ask you to stay behind, at the entrance until I summon you to join the meeting. I happen to have heard your House and the Ironborn are not on good terms, and I will not have any blood spilled in my home.” 

She firmly said, sensing the tension in the air as he walked with her queensguard.

“Your Grace, Theon Greyjoy had killed my sons, this is business between the murderer of my sons and me.” Eddard argued.

Daenerys sighed as they got closer to her throne room, “You will stay outside the door and listen, I will send Ser Jorah for you once I feel it's time for you to appear. You are in my home, respect my wish for little to no blood having to be spilled.” She stopped some steps before the door, then looked at the man.

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“Last time we saw each other was at Winterfell, yes?” Tyrion spoke to the young man. “You were making jokes about my height, I seem to recall. Everyone who makes a joke about a dwarf's height thinks he's the only person ever to make a joke about a dwarf's height.”

Daenerys sat quietly, just like the other time she was in the same conversation, just this time, Ser Jorah stood by her side as Tyrion went on.

“It was a long time ago.” Was the first thing the boy replied with, taking Tyrion's words just as quietly as she sat.

“It was.” The dwarf replied back. “And how have things been going for you since then?” He questioned, Daenerys believed the boy that stood before them had wounded her advisor’s ego greatly if he had gone to talk without stopping.

“Not so well, I gather. Can't imagine you would have murdered the Stark boys if things had been going well.” That ticked off her nerves slightly, but before she could say anything, Theon spoke.

“I didn't murder the Stark boys.” He simply said, then added, “But I did things that were just as bad or worse.” His tone was cold, distant from the scenario they were in, just like in another life.

“And he paid for them.” Yara added as well, her gaze fixed on the Queen, who could spot some unspoken rage in the captain's eyes. Tyrion had a habit of making enemies without even meeting them.

“Doesn't seem like it. He's still alive.” Tyrion mused, “It was complicated for you, I'm sure, growing up at Winterfell. Never quite knowing who you were. But then, we all live complicated lives, don't we?” If she doesn't speak now, he will keep on talking.

“You've brought us one hundred ships from the Iron Fleet with men to sail them. In return, I expect you want me to support your claim to the throne of the Iron Islands?” She questioned the same question she asked a lifetime ago.

“Not my claim.” Theon shook his head quickly, “Hers.” He pointed towards Yara.

Something about the boy wanting to direct the conversation to Yara's claim made her feel a bit warm inside, he cared for his sister, was willing to fight for what was her's, even after being as she knew, traumatized, a ghost of himself.

“I see. I'm glad I won't be the only one coming with changes to Westeros then.” Dany smiled at Theon, her eyes then finding Yara's.

“Our Uncle Euron returned home after a long absence. He murdered our father and took the Salt Throne from Yara. He would have murdered us if we'd stayed.” Theon explained, his eyes moving between Yara and Dany, seemingly finding little to no interest to anyone but them, but who could really blame him.

“Lord Tyrion had told me your father was a terrible King, seems like we have that in common, you both and I.” Daenerys nodded at his explanation.

“We do.” Yara gave her a small smile in return to the Queen's.

“Will their ships be enough?” Dany turned towards Jorah instead of when in another life, that question was towards Tyrion.

“Barely, Khaleesi.” He answered almost immediately.

“There are more than one hundred ships in the Iron Fleet.” Yara reluctantly spoke, interrupting.

 “Euron is building more and is going to offer them to you.” Theon followed quickly.

“And I shouldn't wait for him, you say.” Daenerys knew she could avoid the next sentences, but she had missed Yara, and hearing her insult the man who had killed her son brings her unlimited joy.

“That isn't all he's bringing, he also wants to give you…” Theon obviously wasn't sure how to word the vulgarity.

“His big cock, I think he said. Euron’s offer is also a marriage one, you see.” Yara stepped forward, a small step.

“And I imagine your offer is free of any marriage demands?” Daenerys said with a grin, perhaps too happy for the situation she was in.

“I never demand, but I'm up for anything, really.” Yara then eyed her seated form, making Dany's grin widen.

“Being a concubine is something you would be up for?” The dragon Queen tilted her head as the men's eyes all turned on her.

“Where did that come from, Your Grace?” Tyrion failed to hide his shock.

“An alliance between me and the Iron Lands. You become my concubine, I help you kill an uncle or two and will have my complete and utter support. Though if you do become my concubine, it will be something akin to marriage. Your Lands will remain under the Seven Kingdoms, however you will have more freedom and my armies on your back to protect you.” Daenerys stood up then, “But if you choose not to, I will still help you and will grant you that independence you desire.”

The Queen turned towards Ser Jorah, nodded in his direction, which seemed to awaken him from the astonishment as he nodded back and went towards the door.

“There is someone I believe you should meet, reconcile as well perhaps.” Dany turned her gaze towards them again.

Jorah appeared, the man waiting for their signal after him.

Theon caught the familiar sight of the man, his expression changing to utter terror. “L— Lord Stark…?”

Chapter Text

“What the fuck.” Theon's sister said, cutting the silence in the throne room.

“Theon Greyjoy, you sure made quite the name for yourself after my departure from Winterfell, aye?” Eddard was sure his anger could be felt through his words, suddenly the wound on his neck burned.

The boy did not say anything in return, this wasn't the boy he had raised as his own, he was nothing of what he heard through whispers of other whispers, either. 

“Tell me, boy. Ever since when were you planning to murder my family, Bran? Rickon? They were mere greenboys, is this what the Iron born in you told you to do? Murder children, children I believed you called something like brothers.” Ned could feel the Dragon queen's gaze on him, making him know not to advance towards the Greyjoys.

“I— I didn't! I didn't murder them! It's a misunderstanding, I never killed them, I swear!” Theon stuttered out like he was at the heavenly gates and he was answering for his sins.

“He speaks the truth, Lord Stark.” The Dragon queen spoke for them. 

Ned looked at her, then realised so was everyone else. 

“Theon, correct me if I am wrong, you killed two farmer boys and claimed they were Lord Eddard's, wasn't that what happened? They escaped when you took Winterfell for a time.” She however, did not look at anyone but the boy. 

Theon looked as if he was bottling his tears behind his terrified eyes.

“Y— Yes. I could not find them. I… killed two boys and burned their bodies so no one knew that Bran and Rickon escaped, I believed it would have made me look weak.” He admitted as his eyes found the floor.

‘I raised you as my own.’ Ned thought to himself, not finding the ability to utter even the smallest argument, his neck burned. ‘I fed you, clothed you, taught you. What has happened to that boy who wanted so desperately to beat Jon and Robb while fighting with wooden swords.’

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“Is it wrong that I miss Viserys? As… as bad as he was, I feel stupid but I don't know. I have a feeling you would not grant me the wish if I wanted to bring him back.” Dany spoke in a whispery voice, it was one of those nights where she found herself the most alone and most vulnerable. Luckily, by the time her emotions started to leak, she was already in the realm beyond.

‘It is not amiss to long for him, my flame, for he was your family anchor from the days of your youth. Yet it is not the man you miss; it's the warmth he once bestowed. The solace found in his presence. It is the echo of companionship that resonates within you, a remedy for the loneliness that sought refuge in his familiar embrace as you blossomed.’

‘I withhold the gift of restoring him. For I deem it unwise. He was not the ally you truly craved. Yet, I shall bestow upon thee a boon; patience be thy virtue, and in time, you shall receive the granted gift I am asking you to wait for.’

“Sometimes I regret asking you stuff, you're so cryptic it brings me a bit of resentment.” Daenerys chuckled, feeling a wave of emptiness hitting her emotions. She remembered Winterfell, how everyone had their own little groups in which they belonged, and she felt alone, truly alone.

“I'm scared to be quite honest with you, I will have to go back to Westeros, I will have to face people who have given me nothing but wounds and insults. But I can't hide from them either, they won't want me to rule over them even if I give my head for their cause.” Dany sighed, letting her body feel as if drawn to the warm figure which she started to grow fond of.

‘I regret I cannot whisk away your anguish, my dear flame. However fear not, for in your moments of sorrow, you shan't be alone. I shall shield you from the shadows that seek to engulf you, for you are my cherished one, mine to protect and mine to make joyful.’

Daenerys felt her heart beat a tinge faster, be it the god's honeyed words or the longing she had for someone to declare such devotion.

“R’hllor, I dare be bold and ask, were there any mortals who fell for gods? Since I am rumoured to be your favourite, I imagine there must be other favourites, example for the Seven, the old, the new. I imagine there must have been a chosen one to love their gods beyond reason.” Dany felt silly, as if she was back to being the princess of House Targaryen, dreaming of becoming a sailor and following her brother to take back what was stolen.

For who could learn to love a monster? A small voice asked in the back of her head. 

Then the Queen regretted having asked, remembering the screech of people dying to her fire, thousands — children, little children burned!

No matter the reassurance, no matter the sweet words and explanations she had got, it didn't make sense, she felt haunted, haunted by Tyrion, by Varys, by her father, a man she had never met, by her own kin.

Daenerys dreamed of Rhaella sometimes, was she as beautiful as the songs called her? So kind Sers would fall over themselves just to catch a glimpse of her? Did Rhaella ever wish for a daughter? What would she think of what she had done to King's Landing?

‘In the realm where mortal hearts entwine with gods, followers have adored their deities. Yet in this devine dance, I declare that I am closest to my own chosen. My radiant fire bride, I stand not by obligation, but by the yearning of my essence to be near you. Unlike the gods, old and new, whose chosen ones abound, I chose you willingly. Since the dawn of my existence, a void lingered, and only with your birth did I fathom the absence. You, my chosen one, are the missing piece — a soul to shield, protect and cherish through the ages.’

The Mother Of Dragons felt dumbstruck, her brain screaming at her that this was a love declaration, even as the absolute impossibility of it. ‘A missing piece, a void lingered, I chose you.’ What were all those words with so many meanings, were there other Red Gods before the one she grew to seek comfort in? Would they feel as if this one had damned them all? Was he her twin flame? Or was she his?

“If I were a bigger idiot, that would sound like a declaration I saw in books when I was walking through the libraries of Winterfell. I fear you might make me fall for your fire like a hopeless maiden with such sweet words, my Lord God.” Daenerys jested, trying to ignore the hurt of her wound as her heart picked up a noticeable speed.

‘Ah, sweet words could make you fall for my fire? Why would you have need to fall for my fire when I already am yours?’

Daenerys felt as if hit her head.

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“Your Grace? You look like you have not slept a wink.” Kinvara wore her usual knowing smirk as they walked through the pyramid.

“I slept as soundly as a starved dragon, thank you for asking.” Dany brushed her brows in frustration, then cleared her throat, remembering the busy week ahead of them.

“Well, I truly hope it's not because of the argument between the Greyjoys and Eddard Stark, it's not your issue to not sleep over. It went as well as it could have had, since the previous Hand did not attack the boy.” Kinvara reassured vaguely.

Daenerys looked appalled, “Are we talking about the same man? He looked ready to devour Yara's brother. On another note, do you think she'll accept the concubine offer? I suspect I may have come a little too confident when laying the issue before her.” 

The Priestess shrugged, “In each and every life she had a unique interest in you, I dare to say she would have made a great bed warmer by the way you two looked at each other.” She smirked, then pressed a hand on the Queen's back.

“As you and your Lord had told me, this life is clearly very much different, perhaps I don't ring her interest as I used to, after all her brother met the Lord of Winterfell, which might have stopped any of her once interest in me.” Daenerys shrugged slightly, then continued. “We're getting ready to depart for Dragonstone, is that right?” 

“Yes, sweet one, as you remember, you take your ancestral home back and then Lady Olenna will appear at your council meeting, alongside the Dornish. The only thing Varys did good in any and every life.” Kinvara answered.

“Lady Olenna, her grandchildren —” Dany stopped her words abruptly, Margaery Tyrell, she remembered the older woman's words, her reason for seeking an alliance with her was because she seeks vengeance for her family.

Kinvara held a curious glint in her eyes, as if she already knew what was going on in her mind. “I should teach you magic, I'm sure the Lord of Light would be delighted to help his favourite chosen to achieve her delightfully impossible goals.” Ah, she did indeed know.

Dany spoke then, “Margaery's soul must be in King's Landing, where the Sept was blown, right? Then, I have an achievement I look forward to once that ugly throne will be once again my family's.” 

“Cersei's blood must be a fair trade for Lady Olenna’s grandchildren, however remember, you will need to lay your own exchanges as well, though, the Lannister’s would help your payment be smaller.” Kinvara nodded.

Only death can pay for life, vengeance will be served for the people died unjustly by the world.

“Daenerys, have you ever seen animals mate?” The Priestess looked outside, her attention drawn to the distant growls away from the pyramid.

What a strange question. “No I have not, or well, I know of cats, horses… the Dothraki are extremely fond of their horses when they come with new ones.” Daenerys responded.

Kinvara hummed, “Ever thought of how dragons mate?” Where was she going with this?

Dany froze, “No…? Well I did think of it, however I never paid as much as a second thought since my children are sons, or well… the dragons don't have genders but, what am I even trying to say.”

The Red Woman chuckled, “You see, Viserion shows signs of nesting each time I see him.”

Daenerys felt her blood run as if it was flames, “Nesting? What? You mean…”

“He might be a she, sweet one, perhaps soon enough if I am right, you shall see little hatchlings again.”

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The sailing to Dragonstone followed within that week's time.

Everything went as last time, though now they had more power, she had a big advantage plus knowledge…and Daario sat in her bed each night to talk, making sure she was alright.

It was strange, he insisted on coming to her each night, as if terrified he would not find her anymore. As if afraid she vanished right before his eyes.

Daario was never the one to be so…afraid? She wanted to ask him what had stirred his fear, though with a look from his eyes, she fell silent, remembering that she had left him alone back in another life. Left her children alone. Who was she to question one's worry?

The next few moons passed uneventfully besides the taking over Dragonstone.

She walked around the beach, just as she once did in her memory.

Something felt off-putting, incredibly off-putting though, she felt watched.

Looking over her shoulders as she ventured through her ancestral home once more, she spotted nothing, making her shiver on the inside.

Daenerys was not only feeling one pair of eyes on her, but multiple, tens to be exact.

“ȳdra daor sagon zūgagon…” (Do not be afraid.)

Dany felt her heart stop beating once more.

“ȳdra daor sagon zūgagon…”

“ȳdra daor sagon zūgagon.”

“Ao issi kesīr.” (You are here.)

Whispers through the wind were never a good sign to the Queen. The last time she felt so watched was in another life, in another part of Westeros.

They were in Valyrian, High Valyrian. Her mother tongue, which only made them more terrifying to think about.

“īlva byka zaldrīzes.” (Our little dragon.)

The breathy whispers got more masculine in tone, how was that even possible.

Dany felt afraid, but in such a strange way she couldn't pinpoint why she was afraid exactly, she was armed, she had the capability to defend herself.

Daenerys looked towards the torches that light up the path towards the beach, searching for the fire, looking into the fire.

She felt the presence of the Lord of Light in the fire.

‘What is happening?’ The Dragon Queen questioned the fire as she walked closer to it.

The woman then closed her eyes and pulled her sleeve up, reaching for the flames.

Warmth, the flames danced on her skin, embracing it, never burning it.

‘Fear not, for the realms around you bear no harm. In joy they flourish, and long they have sought to make contact and reach you, my flame.’ 

He knew who they were, but was not going to tell her, in which she did not know whether to feel relieved that the winds did not have the intentions to harm her or that her Lord husband refused to share his knowledge.

‘Proceed on your path, for they yearn to encounter thee. Grant them this desire, for they've watched over you through the ages. Feel their embrace, let their essence draw you in and surrender to the enchainment of their presence.’

Taking her arm out of the fire, Daenerys felt her throat throbbing, be it for the lack of knowledge of what she was venturing into, or the dying curiosity that travelled in her veins.

Dany walked, walked and walked, the wind got stronger as she walked towards the rocks of Dragonstone.

“Māzigon…” (Come)

“Māzigon…”

“Māzigon…”

“Māzigon close, ȳdra daor sagon zūgagon.” (Come close, do not be afraid.)

“Skoriot issi ao guiding issa?” Dany whispered back as she walked where the winds were stronger. (Where are you guiding me)

The wind did not respond then, only pulled her stronger.

Daenerys searched for she was now facing a rock wall, she extended her hand and touched the hard stone, brushing it with the tip of her fingers, searching.

Her fingers found a hole in said wall, then a path of holes alongside the wall.

Dany looked behind, the waves crushing on the island.

The Queen walked again, following the path and then she saw it.

“A cave?” She said to herself. On the entrance of said cave, there stood a lighted torch, alone and abandoned, as if waiting to be held.

The Mother of Dragons gulped her uneasiness deeply, then ripped the light from its holder, stumbling a step or two from the force.

“Iemnȳ...” The voices returned, inside they encouraged.

And so Dany walked again, forward, into the darkness now lit by the fire in her hand.

The drops of water rang loudly to her ears, the air from outside gushed every now and then due to the waves of an upcoming storm.

The Queen watched the walls carefully, there seemed to be something like claw marks on the stones, big claw marks one would assume are from overgrown bears.

‘The last dragon alive had its skull the size of a cat…’ Daenerys thought of words she heard from Ser Jorah.

Daenerys felt a pang in her heart. Those were no bear claws, they were dragon marks, of dragons who were before her children. They grew in size as she stepped forward into the cave.

‘They must've been fighting, fighting to survive.’ Dany thought as she looked sadly at the clawed and torn stone.

All dragons were killed after Rhaenyra Targaryen had been killed and torn by her brother— her own kin. The smallfolk invaded the dragon pit of King's Landing, killing their family dragons in process. One by one, the dragons began to be fewer, then vanished, never to be seen animating the skies again. 

Could the smallfolk have boarded ships and kill what could have been other dragons that took rest in Dragonstone?

Dany's heart clenched tightly between her ribs, imagining the pain the poor dragons must've felt…in fact she did not need to imagine the hurt and pain she felt when Viserion had died, when Rhaegal died, only adding fuel to the fire that was her rage after seeing that Jon Snow — Rhaegal’s chosen rider, did not feel anything when he died.

It angered her that she felt his pain, as his mother, while his damn rider did not flinch twice as her son fell from the sky.

The Dragon Queen froze her thoughts as her body stopped abruptly. She heard weeping, crying, soft cries of a woman.

“Issa riñnykeā, issa dōna riñnykeā…” The woman cried quietly, her face towards the ground and her form blurry by the water falling around her. My child, my sweet child.

Daenerys approached forward, but then the woman turned towards her, abruptly, as if sensing her.

Then she saw it, long silver hair as her own, reddish violet eyes and a look so afraid that it made the young Queen's heart ache.

Dany's breath caught in her throat, no, she could no longer move, she could no longer feel.

“Daenerys, issa rūs hāedar, issa jorrāelagon.” No, no, what is happening. (Daenerys, my girl, my love.)

Dany wanted to flee, the torch in her hand feeling as if it was a block of ice that threatened to freeze her veins.

“Ziry drējī worked, issa riñnykeā, issa lovely hāedar, ziry worked!” The woman slowly got to her feet, tried to approach the frozen Queen. (It truly worked, my child, my lovely girl, it worked!)

“Who…” No. No it can't be.

“I am here, Dany, my Dany, my love my life, I am here, please.” Rhaella whispered, “My girl, my baby, my child.” The woman cried out, approaching, approaching, until she was at an arm's length away.

“No…no…my mother died during childbirth, no you can't!—”, “What is dead may never remain dead my love, I am here, I promise, I am here.”

Now the Queen was crying as well, her tears matching the ones of Rhaella as they both sobbed one in denial and one in relief.

Suddenly, Daenerys felt light headed, grief overtook her mind and her vision turned dark.

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Chapter Text

Daenerys felt her hair be brushed gently. The Queen felt the sides of her body, wet, or perhaps her clothes were wet.

Dany felt her head ache and her eyelids heavy, for a moment she tried to figure out where she was by the sounds of the surroundings.

“Drakari pykiros Tīkummo jemiros Yn lantyz bartossa Saelot vāedis…” 

Tunes hit her ears, soft tunes as if a lullaby was being sung around her, as if she was a babe and Viserys would hold her until she fell asleep.

“Hen ñuhā elēnī: Perzyssy vestretis Se gēlȳn irūdaks Ānogrose…” 

The song sounded so familiar yet so distant and strange. Where did she hear it before?

Daenerys opened her eyes and met darkness, for the first time ever since she was brought back, she faced darkness

“Ñuha jorrāelagon.” Fingers brushed over her face, so lovingly and so gently. (My dear.)

The darkness washed away after a few moments, silver hair entered her sight once more.

“Muña…” Escaped her lips, was she dreaming? The world around felt too cold to be the world beyond. (Mother.)

“I am here, my love.” Rhaella whispered, then she felt her mother's lips press against her head.

Daenerys looked into the woman's eyes, the redness had gone away a bit. “Am I dreaming? Have I died once and for all?” Her voice was hoarse and quiet, making her throat hurt.

Rhaella frowned, her eyes widened slightly as the words left her daughter's lips. The previous Queen grabbed the young woman's hand, her grip and fingers warm as they entangled together, despite the weird position they were in.

“I am as real as one can be, I believe it as little as you do, but I'm here, Dany. So many of us tried to reach you, so many of us tried to get past the threshold that kept us apart, yet I of all of them had succeeded.” Rhaella brushed a few strands of hair out of her daughter's face as she held the girl's head on her lap.

“So many of “us”? Who are you talking about, how did you…” Daenerys questioned though trailed off at the end, as if afraid her mother would disappear if she kept talking.

Rhaella smiled, and oh she was beautiful.

“Your family, sweet girl. We have tried to reach you my love, a Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing. If I were to find an explanation to how I, out of all the warriors and fighters in our bloodline, had succeeded to pass the threshold, I would be sure it is a mother's love that had given me the strength to reach you at last.” Rhaella smiled so fondly towards her daughter, a grin actually, though her face bore unshed tears.

“How?” Was the only word that Daenerys uttered in response.

“I have no logical explanation, however I am here now, and I have no doubt that perhaps others might find the way to come as well.” Rhaella then put both of her hands on the girl's face, squeezing her cheeks so hard it almost hurt. “You have no idea how terrified I was when I found myself in the darkness instead of with the others. I thought I failed for sure, but then I felt it; your presence was instantly recognisable, for you are my only daughter.” The once Queen then reached her head down and rested her head against her daughter's forehead.

The unshed tears had won at last, making the mother shudder as she held the girl. 

“Muña… Oh muña…” Daenerys cried out as she pushed herself up with all her strength to embrace her mother, and oh she smelled of roses and ash like she had been in a battle. Her gown was as red as wine and as soft as the finest of silks.

Rhaella whispered sweet nothings in her ears as they both broke down in sobs that could echo through the cave.

The previous Queen began rocking Daenerys back and forth as if she was once again a babe, slowly she started humming the same song as before, then ever so unnoticeably, switched to another song, one the young lady never heard before.

“I heard your cries in your nightmares, oh and so I begged the gods to give you comfort.”

Dany began to violently shake, muffling her cries in her mother's chest, worrying little about the wetness she was inflicting on the gown.

“Once again my sweet don't tremble, for I shall all sway away your fears. In my arms you will find shelter, for my love will be your sword and my arms shall be your armour.”

Neither of them knew how much had passed, for they were deep inside the cave and the outside light did not shine, but Dany felt her heart beat rapidly in her chest, Drogon was worried, he had felt her previous fear and cries.

‘I’m alright, my sweet, I'm alright.’ She reassured in her mind, trying to calm her son's worry but to little avail as the women heard a loud roar in the distance.

Daenerys felt the crown of her head be kissed then her face lifted from the gown.

“You have grown into such a fine girl, just how my dreams showed me that you would be.” Rhaella praised watery, “My little warrior, for how long had you endured loneliness and pain.”

Then absolute shame clouded Dany's eyes, then she stuttered out, “Muña… I burned people, children, I am no better than Aerys was. Muña I am not a good—”, “I know.’ Rhaella interrupted her.

“You…you do?” Dany felt struck, then once again afraid, while knowing that her mother would never turn violent as her brother had, the thought of her mother feeling disappointed and angered hurt even more than any beating and sword could.

“I've watched you, my love. I've seen you be betrayed, poisoned and chained, assaulted and killed. I know everything, and oh gods be damned that each and every time I seen you with that dagger in your chest, a piece of my soul died.” Rhaella whispered firmly, placing her hands on her daughter's shoulders, holding her still as she tried to calm the shudders in the girl's body.

“I'm sorry, muña, I never… I never imagined…I don't know. I feel so lost at times, not present. I remember once I said that if I look back I become lost, I tried not to, but emptiness catches me off guard and I become weak.” Daenerys swallowed as she tried to keep eye contact with her mother, but not being able to stand the tenderness and love in her eyes, her gaze kept switching where she was looking.

“Hushh, nothing you could have done would have made me hate you. Because I know the girl that I gave birth to, and you are in no way the tyrant you make yourself out to be.” Rhaella whispered to the girl, one of her arms moving up and brushed some of the now unbraided hair out of her face.

Another louder roar came from outside, making the cave shake ever so slightly.

Rhaella looked towards the entrance of said cave, Dany following her gaze. 

“Little Drogon seems to want to enter our hideout.” The previous Queen chuckled, embracing her strongly then.

Once they departed, Daenerys chuckled as well and ever so slowly got up to her feet, Rhaella holding her legs as they wabbled a little from laying for too long.

Dany then held out her hand for her mother to take, wanting to help her up.

Rhaella took her hand in an instant.

The Queen looked around the cave for a moment, then spotted the torch that she came in with.

“How did you not go out?” She asked as she knelt down to take it.

“That is no normal fire, my love, if I were to think about it, it seems to be almost like wildfire. The green fire does not go out easily almost at all.” Rhaella spoke as she heard her daughter's wonder.

Dany hummed in acknowledgement, however did not think too much about it, as Drogon was a few roars away from forcing his way into the cave.

 

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His Queen had vanished some hours earlier in the day, he was on high alert, Grey Worm had called the Unsullied to search the castle and the whole island a couple of hours after the Queen went down to explore as she called it.

Daario felt an ache building more and more in his head as flashes appeared before his vision.

Meereen, being left by his Queen back in her name, then… a letter. A letter signed by the fuckin’ Imp, telling him that his lover was dead, that she went mad, and sent his ‘condolences’ to the people she had left behind.

The Captain's blood was pumping hot in his veins, while on the sea he did get small flashes of a life he had no memory of, thus the deadly fear of getting that letter once again. 

Daario was close to gutting the Imp the second he had seen him that morning, he cared little about the suspicious glares from the old woman who made an appearance in the Queen's war room alongside a younger woman with short dark hair. But then he remembered his promise to the Queen, and he did everything in his power to present himself as the utter prince charming he knew he could act as.

And then Grey Worm’s news reached him as soon as the Unsullied soldiers ran through the halls, alerting everyone including him.

Daario walked aimlessly, but his eyes fell on the black dragon who circled around the beach for a good while now.

Drogon growled loudly a few times, a good amount of time between each.

Daario approached his lover’s son, warily at first, but when he saw the Captain, he landed on the beach and let him approach.

“What is it, big boy? Is she in danger?” Daario questioned with a great worry in his voice, however Drogon just snarled from beside him. As if insulting him for even believing he would have let his mother be in danger. Always such a snarky son, a voice called in the back of the man's head.

Drogon's red eyes were fixated on the entrance of the cave, as if waiting.

Daario stepped closer, until he was right in the opening. He walked towards the darkness, then a light appeared from the tunnel. There he saw his Queen with a torch and her clothes wet.

“Dany!” He shouted as he ran to her, embracing her with full force that he knew she currently couldn't stand, however the man cared little in that moment, for his heart was ringing loudly in his chest and the fear made him feel irrational.

Daario lifted her off the ground and spun her ever so slowly, oh how he hated that she was able to make him feel out of his mind and know so little about it.

He then felt her embrace him with all her might as well, and he finally knew she was alright.

The man froze as he let his Queen down, a pair of eyes was looking at them.

“Daario Naharis, it is truly wonderful to meet the man who is so fiercely devoted to my daughter.” The woman spoke then, and he saw it, almost as if an older Daenerys was talking to him, she bore the same smile as his lover though he could see she was older, taller.

“What…”, “Daario, do you know for how long I have been away? Did Lady Olenna and Lady Ellaria already arrive?” His Queen asked, cutting his question off.

Daario's eyes widened slightly, then he laughed. “Your Grace, you have been gone since morning, dawn is near and the Unsullied are hopelessly searching for you, turning every corner and lifting every stone to look for you. Yes, the old woman and the Dornish have arrived.” 

His eyes glanced at the silver haired woman behind his Queen, bewildered, dumbfounded perhaps, but he could ask questions later.

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Dany's eyes widened, Lady Olenna had already made an appearance and she was not there for it.

The Queen’s eyes fell on Drogon who remained quietly behind Daario, letting out purrs here and there when their gazes met.

“I have to go, what type of host would I be if they remain alone while I'm deemed missing?” Daenerys cried out, then looked back at her mother, who kept grinning at her and what she imagined was Daario and her son.

“Go, I'm sure your soldiers need their fears eased, I trust your Captain will lead me safely to the castle.” And at that, Daenerys embraced her mother fiercely, once her hug was returned, she let go and sprinted towards Drogon, urging him to fly towards the castle.

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“Lady Olenna, my deepest and most sincere apologies for not being able to greet you properly as a host should, I dare ask for your forgiveness.” Daenerys spoke out as she tried to catch her breath, having changed quickly into some more presentable clothes and drier for that.

The women in her war room stared at her, as if amused. But as she looked around the place, she could spot unfamiliar faces, faces she did not meet in previous lives as she held the same meeting over and over.

The older woman spoke then, “Well, someone did tell me that the Dothraki aren't known for their punctuality.” Olenna then smiled, “I'm glad you keep tradition, my dear.”

This was the old woman she grew so fond of in every one of her lives, the woman so quick to use her wit and put people where they belonged. 

Daenerys grinned then, ignoring her Hand’s scolding like look and then walked towards her place around the painted table.

Missandei gave her a questioning look, Dany could see some relief behind those warm looking eyes, she was worried about her whereabouts, that she knew.

“If you want the Iron Throne, take it. We have an army, a fleet and three dragons. We should hit King's Landing now, hard, with everything we have. The city will fall within a day.” Yara was the one to open the meeting.

Tyrion also opened his mouth, however Daenerys quickly shut it off, “You are right Yara, the city will fall easily, gods know it's already halfway in ruins. Lord Stark once told me that during the rebellion, he and his men evacuated the city during the night so there would be as little casualties as possible, we should start with that. Do any of you know of any openings that are not so in the view?” The Queen recalled her conversation with the Stark back in Meereen, even if the man would never be loyal to her, his strategy and wits in the war were welcomed for the time being.

The dwarf watched her, a bewildered expression on his face and uneasiness, perhaps because she named the presumed dead Ned Stark.

Lady Olenna looked at her funny, watching her intensively, “You met the honourable Eddard Stark before he died? Why, Your Grace, excuse my boldness but I do find that hard to believe. Given his family's history with yours.” 

Daenerys wanted to burst out laughing at the stupidity of the situation once more, a dead man at her doorstep and her dear mother in a cave.

The Queen turned to Yara, nodding. Knowing the woman had already seen the dead man walking.

“Missandei, please summon the Lord of Winterfell.” And so her friend excused herself and went out of the room to get the man.

Lady Olenna’s eyebrows shot up, a suspicious look in her eyes, “Do you have his head lying around?” She asked, and Dany could feel the utter confusion that swirled around the older woman.

Yara let out a chuckle, gaining the glares of everyone around her.

“Your Grace, this is war, there will be people who will die, we cannot stop the attack just because of it.” Ellaria spoke then, choosing to remain ignorant to everything else besides the war.

“I know how you wage war, we don't poison little girls here.” Tyrion finally had gotten time to say something at last.

Ellaria's eyes widened then, “What in the world are you talking about?” She hissed, though confused.

Tyrion looked at her as if flabbergasted, “The girl was innocent! She was good, one of the only goods in House Lannister!” He tried to argue.

The Dornish woman seemed to have understood who he was talking about then, “Myrcella? Gods be good, who do you think I am? She is alive and healthy in Dorne, I would never go against Oberyn's wishes. We don't hurt little girls in Dorne.” 

Then as if hit by lightning, Daenerys inhaled, one more person who she did not think yet about (though the shock of Myrcella Baratheon being alive will settle after), Oberyn did not deserve his fate, be it if he chose it or not. The thought of Elia Martell haunted her thoughts. 

Elia was in a better place than this world could have offered her, no one can harm her anymore. 

So she couldn't bring her good sister back, it would be like condemning her to die in the same world she had just escaped alongside her nephews and niece.

No, Elia did not deserve such fate, she was good, she was kind, and she did not deserve the fate her brother had brought her.

Oberyn will be an exchange, as around him were whispers that he would have done anything to avenge his sister, and died trying to get revenge in her name.

Oberyn deserved to kill the Mountain, and if so wish, die afterwards, with the resting thought that he had avenged his sister. But his daughters needed him, Ellaria needed him. More than enough reason for him to be alive.

Daenerys sighed heavily, then her eyes fell upon one of the women that stood by Ellaria’s side.

The girl almost immediately spotted the Queen's gaze and bowed in respect towards her. 

“Who might you be, my Lady? I don't think we introduced each other.” Daenerys wore the ghost of a smile on her face.

The girl nodded then, “I'm Princess Arianne, Your Grace.” She quickly introduced herself.

Dany's gaze turned curious, looking at the Dornish woman she had previously known.

Ellaria seemed to quickly catch onto the gaze as she spoke, “Princess Adrianne is to be the next ruler in Dorne as after her father's passing she was his only child, as her trusted advisor I felt that it was important for her to participate in this meeting.” 

Daenerys blinked once then twice, with a quick glance around the room, she saw Tyrion begin to be filled with confusion, as well as Varys.

A change in events? Wouldn't Varys be the first to know of those things? In a way, she was pleased that an innocent girl was not dead, however she was ever more curious about how that came to be.

Missandei appeared at last, she bowed to the audience and then spoke, “I returned with the Lord of Winterfell.” And then she went back to the spot beside her Queen.

Olenna once again shot the Queen a glace, however the man in question appeared at the entrance.

“You called for me, Your Grace?” He asked, not bowing, but gave her nod of acknowledgement, the best he could as he was still in the healing process.

Eddard seemed oblivious to the stares in the room for a moment, then his eyes moved around the people present. 

“Seven hells, I thought you were going to give me a glimpse of his head for a moment.” Lady Olenna shouted, confused, surprised, who knew.

Eddard looked at the woman, eyes wide, then gave her the same nod he had given Dany, “Lady Tyrell.” He said.

“Weren’t you dead?” As blunt as ever, the older woman questioned.

Tyrion spoke again then, “He was. Then he appeared at Her Grace's pyramid back in Meereen.” Though it was as if his words were not his, as his eyes seemed to be somewhere distant.

Olenna however did not spare a glance towards the tiny man, “Your Grace, do you have a habit of collecting dead people? In that case I shall celebrate in case my grandchildren make appearances at your court one day!” the Queen of Thorns laughed, clearly entertained.

“My Lord, if you please could come here and have a look at the painted table for a moment.” Dany’s voice silenced the others.

Eddard gripped his crutch, then walked towards the space beat to her.

Once he was where she commanded him to be, his eyes wandered over the table.

“You know King's Landing, you have fought and worked in it, what are the secret passages where we could get people out of?” Daenerys asked, her gaze meeting the man's.

The Stark sighed heavily for a moment, as if trying to remember, then his hand appeared in front of him. “Around the gates, there are some openings in case of urgent evacuation, however.” He paused, closing his eyes and furrowing his eyebrows, again, trying to remember. “There isn't as much wildfire towards the edges, the main barrels, which are the heaviest, are placed all around the streets. If you plan to attack from above, don't go with fire against the streets, for they will blow the stones as if they were nothing.” 

‘To attack from above? Has he been thinking about how to take over the city?’ Daenerys thought briefly.

“Does Cersei have any way to set off the wildfire from inside the castle?” The Queen looked at Tyrion, who met her gaze hesitantly but did not reply.

Varys spoke then, as he stood quiet through the whole meeting until that moment, “Her Hand might, however if the city is empty, it would do nothing but destroy the buildings.” The eunuch warily met her gaze, “But I doubt we would be able to get everyone out of the city.” 

Everyone fell silent then, thinking. Daenerys brought her hand on the map and rested it there, “We can't exactly bring as many ships as there would need be for the common folk, it would obviously bring unwanted attention, however.” She clicked her tongue, “My soldiers will enter the castle, if there is a way, when the rest try to evacuate the city in the meanwhile, get them as far from the main streets as we could.”

“There arises another problem however.” Dany continued, “The Lannister army will attack Highgarden in hopes for resources, I need people to defend it.” 

Tyrion jumped in, “For decades, House Lannister has been the true power in Westeros and the seat of that power is Casterly Rock.” He argued.

Dany looked him in slight frustration, “My Lord, do you think money is endless? The crown had pulled out of Casterly Rock for decades now, you'd be a fool to believe it still holds any value. Lady Olenna’s home has the most money and natural resources, we need to secure it, Cersei is likely planning to hire more soldiers or sellswords, we need Highgarden.”

Lord Stark interrupted, “When I was Robert's Hand, the mining had made almost nothing, the records, even back then backed up the Queen's statement. Casterly Rock is almost nothing of what glory it had once.”

“Grey Worm and the Unsullied will sail to Highgarden and take it. Find anything of value and take it as well, we cannot risk giving Cersei the advantage of letting her have the funds for the Golden Company.” Dany explained, “Do I have your support?” 

“You have mine.” Yara agreed, having listened closely.

“Dorne is with you, Your Grace.” Princess Arianne and Ellaria nodded as well.

“You are about to take my home, however if you are proven right, I will have you to thank for being alive, my support is yours, Your Grace.” Lady Olenna smiled at her.

“Thank you, all.” Daenerys thanks them, and with that they were dismissed.

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Chapter Text

That night Dany went late to her chambers, having been preoccupied with preparing for the upcoming battle in the meanwhile and the conversation she had remembered with her witty old lady happened quite differently.

Lady Olenna stopped her in the halls, and everything went like in another life, another time, but… it didn't.

“I know you do not follow me because you have any love for me.” Dany reassured, “I promise you the vengeance you seek for will be yours.”

“Oh, child, only a fool would not follow you to the ends of the earth, trust me on that.” Lady Tyrell said, amused. “While it is true I seek the vengeance you so speak of, I also seek to support someone worthy, the only other queen I fully supported was my granddaughter, and what a delight she was. I trust you are not to be the next sheep who sits on that hideous chair. Are you a sheep? No, you're a dragon. Be a dragon.” She repeated the words that sometimes echoed in her mind during the most quiet of nights.

Daenerys opened her chamber’s door and sighed as she felt her body relax in the slightest, being stiff and on edge would probably do a number on her muscles, but that's for an older, perhaps wiser Dany to care.

“There you are, my love.” A soft voice greeted her.

Raising her gaze from the unfocused place she was staring into, the Queen saw her mother in one of her robes, smiling- no actually grinning at her.

“Muña! Did Daario bring you here? If…well I actually thought he would guide you to the chamber next to mine, I apologize, I'm a bit out of my head right now.” Dany gave her mother a downwards smile, a sheepish look overtaking her face.

If a grin could get even more grinny then her mother managed that so easily, “No, darling girl, I specifically asked him to bring me here, I've been waiting. Come, sit with me. I have a feeling this would feel more comfortable than the cave, don't you think?” 

A familiar feeling hit her, harshly, as if she was back on the battlefield of Winterfell and surrounded by white walkers. The harsh feeling was something akin to fearing she was in a dream, even a nightmare. It started happening ever since she was back in Meereen, the feeling of everyone…alive, being a dream, terrified her to the core of her being.

As if her mother knew, she rushed to her side as she saw her daughter freeze, “Look at me, my love. Do you feel me touching you? Touch me, I am real, nothing bad is going to happen, everything is going to be alright, your warriors will be taking over Highgarden within a fortnight and Lady Olenna is going to be alive and well. You saved her, sweet girl.” Rhaella whispered in the Queen's ear, hugging her head to her chest. Daenerys now noticed that her mother was significantly taller than she, what a silly thing to think about in that moment.

Rhaella brushed her fingers in Dany's hair, undoing the braids that were tightly held in the long silver waves. “What work of art does little Missandei do with your hair, so fierce looking and regal.” Her mother must've noticed her silence, gently changing the subject.

“It's Dothraki, a tradition I kept with me…the braids are each victory they win, once they get defeated, they have to cut their hair for the world to know of their shame.” Daenerys explained vaguely, her voice quiet.

“Is that so? Well, I think we should add a couple more, but where to put them…” Rhaella trailed off, as if she was thinking. “Ah! Right here, they could be in the shape of a crown, since wearing a crown constantly could cause you serious headaches.” The woman chuckled.

Somehow, both the Queen and her mother found themselves sitting on the chamber bed, sitting in silence as Rhaella hummed another song with tunes as soft as lullabies.

Daenerys didn't find the heart to react to many things, everything she had discovered in the past year had messed with the way her mind worked in a strange way. She knew she should be terrified of all the magic and unbelievable changes that are happening around her, but truly she had no idea what would even be right to feel in that moment.

A minute she wanted to break in her mother's arms and ask about all the stories she had heard from Viserys, kiss Missandei on the forehead and hug her so tight the girl wouldn't be able to breathe anymore, kiss Daario like they used to before she left Meereen in another life and tell him how wonderful and grateful she had been for everything he had done. Hug Yara and cry to her about how she did not have to remain loyal after her death but she was so happy she did. Dany wanted to hold Jorah to be sure he wasn't rotting away before her sight. 

And the next minute, she felt empty. As if all her willingness to fight and…be alive, had gone. Like a candle after being blown on, she felt the need to just, end it all, perhaps once the dream washed away, that's where she was; her body rotting away as her son tried his hardest to stop it.

“My sweet.” Rhaella pulled out of her thoughts, just then the young Queen noticed the growing pain in the side of her head.

Daenerys raised her head and met her gaze.

“I believe there is someone here who wishes to see you.” Rhaella hummed.

The room was incredibly warm, like the days in Essos, the warmth fed her soul. Dany looked at her mother questioningly, but then she felt it, the presence of a specific figure of the world she kept close to heart.

Daenerys' breath caught in her throat, heart starting to feel the same silly feeling she had felt before.

“Turn around, my love.” Rhaella encouraged, smiling such a bright smile that could warm a whole ballroom.

And so she did, Dany turned around and there stood the figure of her dreams, fire blazing around as now he had the form of a more humane creature.

The figure’s face was brightly in flames, making it clear there was no such thing as a face in the first place, but the body was shaped like a man's, taller than her mother by a head and flames bright around the edges.

“Once more, our paths cross. I had wished for an earlier encounter, yet it seems your night unfolds without early slumber. So, I present myself before your wakeful and somewhat lively state. How fares thee, my cherished flame?” 

Once again, Daenerys remained stunned, as if she was meeting him for the first time once more. Her Lord's voice appeared more…understandable perhaps, it had a tone in the strangest way possible, and not just the neutral echoes and windy laughs.

“By this point, you'd think I'm supposed to expect anything and everything.” Dany whispered more to herself, but of course the two around her had to hear. Her ears were filled with a full hearted laugh from her mother, her sounds so joyful and whole, it felt like summer all over and flowers were growing with each chuckle or giggle of the once Queen.

And there it was, not the wind she was used to feeling around her whenever the one who called itself her husband was amused, no, this was much more…different. It felt like a laugh, and sounded like it too.

Daenerys wondered why her cheeks felt warmer than usual, her blood running hotter than her sons’ (and possibly daughter’s) breaths.

“In such a vow, I pledge that daily shall unfold with surprises for you. Pray, my dearest of moonlights, what are your thoughts on the gift I present unto thee?”

It took a second for her mind to understand what gift he exactly meant, “You mean… you brought my mother back to life?” She asked, swallowing a deep breath and eyebrows furrowed.

Something akin to an amused huff was let out by the fiery figure.

“Fear not, sweet flame. That was your mother's resolve and love that guided her back to the realm of living. I merely nudged the odds in her favor ever so slightly, as I intend to do for others in times to come.”

Daenerys felt unsure about the strange affection that started to bubble up in her heart, she expected her wound to ache as it once did, for it to burn. But it did not, it fluttered uncomfortably as it does with Daario, with Yara. What a strange thing.

Unknown to her, her feet stepped forward, the figure's fire faintly glazing over her skin.

“Your cheeks are flushed, darling.” Her mother mused, making her daughter look at her in slight surprise.

“Oh.” Dany responded, though, instead of feeling embarrassed, she continued. “I feel really happy, I have most of the people who I loved and more. I cannot really even begin to comprehend everything I feel, muña.” 

Her mother beamed, nodding, knowing who she was referring to.

Dany did think of flying back to Essos and start searching for Ser Barristan’s soul, he was a part of her being as were the others. However, the man had lived his life, he had fought for kings and queens alongside the Inbetweeners. The man lived a life doing what he enjoyed, the young woman felt that it would have been cruel to bring him back to the place he was shunned out from.

“You know, I did not think I'd see my daughter end up with a god to be quite fair.” Rhaella mused once again, bringing her out of her thoughts. “Perhaps I had given up hope in any existing, but truthfully, I wonder how this love story came to be. The Lord of Light had not confided in us that information.”

Dany froze, a snort stuck in her throat begging to get out.

“I think you misunderstood muña, it is more of a saying, a title if you will, he is not—”

“My lady, your daughter is the Bride of Fire, the very essence of my being . Without her by my side, it feels as though I lack completeness, a purpose unfulfilled. From the moment she had entered this world I knew I was destined to be hers.”

The young Queen gawked at the fiery figure, dumbfounded at his boldness and used to knowing his lack of understanding of mortal emotions. Even though it was not an obvious “I love you”, she could vaguely read between the lines.

Dany felt the figure touch her face as it did in her dreams back when she was at her breaking point. Cupping her face, acts of care. 

Rhaella looked at both of them, a false pout playing on her lips as her eyes held amusement, “And, you, as your people call her your bride, are fine with her having concubines?” She teased.

“He gave me the idea!” Dany looked towards her mother, a scoff on her face, playing along with the joke.

For a moment, she almost felt her Lord's confusion, her heart tingled as she felt the change of emotions (?), making her wonder since when did that start happening.

“Your Grace, I am not the sole admirer of your daughter. It would border on cruelty to deny others the chance to express the love she so deserves.”

And at that, Dany felt sympathetic for the confusion she and her mother had inflicted on her Lord.

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The sun raised slowly on Dragonstone. Daenerys did not end up sleeping, she spent the night with her mother, talking about everything and nothing at once.

The Lord of Light had disappeared some hours before the darkness of the night began to vanish, he showed the young woman some spells she would have to practice with Kinvara, mostly healing and some of inflicting protection on objects such as swords and shields, enchantments of sorts.

 Dany was toying with some of the rings that were placed on her fingers, one thicker than the other, sometimes she began to fidget with them unknowingly.

“What gorgeous little jewelry, my love. What are they?” Questioned Rhaella.

The two of them had discussed some things that were more relatively new to the loop of lives her mother had watched her daughter endure.

Rhaella did not remember small details of the current year that had passed because she focused on trying to pass the threshold, thus she forced all her attention on breaking the blockage, making her unable to also be aware of some of the things happening at the time her daughter made changes.

The previous Queen mentioned that if it was for others to pass the threshold, it might be different because they had already witnessed what was currently happening, their memory would perhaps be more intact than hers.

“Oh, oh! Well, this one is a ring that Daario had made for me to make it official that he is a royal concubine, Yara having seen it, she too wished for one to be made, to represent her own alliance. You know how a married couple wears the rings of their union? Well I decided for each and every concubine I will take, I will have a ring made, because this is what I choose instead of actual marriage.” Daenerys explained joyfully, the rings on her fingers were silver, both Yara and Daario had claimed it would suit her best, which made the young woman giggle like a hopeless maiden.

Rhaella smiled, “So the young Greyjoy Queen had chosen to unite? I wish to be surprised but I am not. The girl clearly had a soft spot for you ever since you two met, brings a smile to my face to know that in the end I was right, you two had ended up together once more.” The woman brushed her thumb over the rings as she held her daughter's hand.

“I have your ring as well, muña. I keep it with my most valued things, I never wanted the chance to somehow lose it, because it was the only thing I had left of you… of our House.” Daenerys got up from where she sat and brought up a small chest, then placed it before her mother and opened it. Bringing a small box to her hands and giving it to the previous Queen.

Rhaella opened the tiny box and frowned, “You kept it well. Truthfully, it breaks my heart that your most valued things are only in that small chest. I wish I would have given Viserys something more, I have no doubt that Stannis Baratheon had gotten rid of any trace of Targaryens left.” The woman sighed, her eyes had a regretful look in them while looking towards the wooden box that Daenerys had put in front of her.

Now she was standing on the same stones she had stood once before, looking over captives of battle. There she saw two men, father and son, immediately identified them as the men of House Tarly.

Once upon a time, this battle would have been a great defeat, having lost Highgarden alongside Lady Olenna. This time however, she found herself smiling faintly at the sight beneath her.

The armies set out to take over were easily defeated due to the knowledge of their attack.

She did not lose anywhere near as many soldiers, actually close to none at all. Daenerys felt powerful once more, she was a step ahead and it felt good to see the defeated looks of being outplayed.

Amongst the prisoners of war, Jaime Lannister was there as well, alongside the man who she recalled Tyrion had promised land. 

The young woman felt confident as she could feel her Lord Hand’s nervousness at the sight of his brother.

“I know of the words circulating around me, my Lords. Let me put your mind at ease and assure you that I have not come to destroy your cities, to kill you and make orphans out of your children. No, that is not who I am. Yet here I stand, aware of your opinions of me, aware that you will not kneel to me, for you take me as a foreign invader.” Daenerys stated, her eyes bore into the Lannister’s, then met the older Tarly’s.

“I offer you a choice I wisely wish you to consider; bend the knee and join me in my conquest to break the wheel who is crushing any poor soul that finds itself underneath it, together we will leave the world a better place than when we found it, for I will take the throne as my ancestors did. Or refuse, and you shall be sent back to your homes and will be no longer part of this war. What is your decision?” 

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Chapter Text

Rhaella had rushed out of the castle of Dragonstone for a walk, not that anyone important besides her daughter's lover knew she was even there.

Rhaella felt so full of life and joyful, as she was back before Aerys and her wed, back before the rebellion when she used to walk across flower fields away from King's Landing.

She now is with her daughter, she had vowed to protect her little girl no matter the cost and so she will.

The previous Queen had memorised the line of events by heart until now, she knew when each major event would have happened, but only the time was different, due to her darling daughter making obvious changes to her fate.

Rhaella did not exactly know where she was walking to until she was faced with two gorgeous dragons looking at her as if they were confused.

‘They must be confused as to why they don't feel the bond as they do with Dany.’ Rhaella laughed softly, feeling pity for the little dragons, probably thinking their mother was approaching, only to be baffled when she wasn't her daughter.

The silver headed woman advanced, her steps careful alongside the smile she found herself wearing a ton ever since she was brought back.

Viserion - her daughter's golden child, tilted his head slightly, then extended his neck while Rhaegal - the green scaled dragon next to him hissed in disapproval.

“Why hello, of course you would be my daughter's children, look at you, all so beautiful.” Rhaella praised the two, her hand slowly reaching to meet Viserion’s snout halfway through his extension, her palm coming in contact with the rough skin.

“Oh you are no he, are you now? My apologies, little one.” The woman brushed the she-dragon’s long neck. “Does your mother know as such though?” She asks quietly, pretending she would get a response.

Viserion's yellowish eyes stared at the woman for a moment, hot sniffs coming out of her nostrils, as if checking for something, searching for something that Rhaella had.

Rhaella could not exactly pinpoint what her daughter's child must be thinking, though in that moment she enjoyed the warmth against her skin. Whilst not being immune to fire as her little dragon was, her blood ran hotter than any human that did not have the blood of old Valyria, making her enjoy the huffs and puffs of fire blazing around her arm.

Viserion let down her neck and extended her wings, as if trying to let her climb.

“Oh? You want to go for a ride? In that case, I should find more protective clothing, should I not?” Rhaella smirked towards the golden she-dragon.

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As Daenerys waited for the men to speak, as she expected denial, a roar erupted through the skies, making the men before her turn their heads along as she.

Viserion cleared the clouds with glittering wings as he flew, approaching.

Dany panicked for a moment, wondering what could have stirred her golden child to come and search for her.

The Queen squinted her eyes and there it was, silver hair appearing from the top of her child. ‘What the?’ She immediately wondered through the storm of thoughts.

Her son roared loudly, perhaps almost happily, he was rapidly approaching, as if proud to show a treasure.

Dany's breathing quickened, rushing towards where she assumed her child would land. Tyrion called to her, confused and perhaps a bit frightened to why Viserion appeared out of nowhere.

Viserion landed with a loud beat of wings, echoed laughter ringing from atop of him.

“Muña? What are you…?”, “Oh Dany, I did not think she would bring me here! Her eyes were begging me for a ride, were you not, sweetling?” Rhaella laughed as she brushed her hand against the rough scales, then gripping some so she could climb down.

Daenerys held back a bewildered look, the soldiers all around were gasping, shock could be guessed as the air around them tensed, not that her mother seemed to have paid any mind.

Viserion let out something akin to a squawk, Dany could feel her child's happiness to have gone to fly, exactly as her mother claimed.

Rhaella cleared her throat, “Now, what do we have here?” Then she turned her gaze towards the beaten bloodied soldiers.

“What in the heavens am I witnessing?” Tyrion was the only one who's words came out clear as his eyes were as wide as two cave holes.

Rhaella switched the place she was looking towards, now looking down upon the smaller man, “Lord Lannister.” She greeted, walking up towards the rock where her daughter stood before, waiting for said daughter to come back.

“Ya didn't tell me there were more of em’!” Someone from the crowd of dirty soldiers spoke, wanting to be quiet but failing, as then Daenerys saw the man who spoke was standing next to Jaime Lannister.

“I apologise for the interruption, my Lords. We are restlessly waiting for your answer to my question.” She held her chin high, however a hand on her shoulder made her blink.

Her mother then spoke, just now Dany noticed her leather dress alongside with a pair of boots she must've found in her room. 

“Take them to Dragonstone until they make their decision, by any means keep Cersei in the dark as much as possible, do not give her the chance to know anything besides her defeat.” Rhaella spoke quietly in High Valyrian, leaning a bit down as her daughter had not gone fully up the rock yet.

Dany clenched her jaw tightly, “For any of you who have not made their decision as of now, you will be held in Dragonstone, as for the rest, as soon as you have given me your answers, will be let go back to your families.” Her voice fell with a strict tone in it as the words came out.

“I have made an oath to Queen Cersei. I will not be on the side of a foreign woman alongside her savages. You cannot make me do anything.” Lord Tarly spoke, but unlike before, he seemed reluctant, more unsure.

Daenerys felt her blood turn into fire, “An oath you say? How about the oath to House Tyrell? Was that not an oath you declared for their house? If oaths are something you hold close to heart, we would have not met in those circumstances.” She spoke with newfound coldness in her throat, despite the increasing heat in her veins.

Randyll stiffened, his shoulders falling tense. “House Tyrell was to seek an alliance with a foreigner, I chose to follow someone who was one of Westeros, one of our own.” He met her eye, their newfound stare contest continued for a couple of heart beats.

“You do realise that I am a child of Westeros, just as you are, just as your Queen is. What, being forced into exile makes me a foreigner now? Was my family not “Westeros” enough? That is almost laughable, my Lord.” Daenerys argued, noticing her mother grip onto her shoulder as she challenged his reasoning.

Tarly fell quiet once more. Perhaps the heated gazes of the Targaryens came out as threatening, or perhaps seeing the dead Rhaella Targaryen, alive, made his head spin and made him not able to make witty remarks.

In his silence, the soldiers started to speak of their decisions, most choosing to remain neutral and go back to their homes, wives and children.

Daenerys called out to her blood riders, which came alongside the Unsullied, to take the prisoners who did not come with an answer as of yet, and for the Unsullied to guide the men who had made their choices.

The young Queen observed how her mother tensed as she saw Jaime look at them both in horror.

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“Not once did I think I'd be so up in the sky!” Rhaella shouted as cool air hit her face as they flew back to their ancestral home, her voice as joyful as the one of a babe while tickled. 

Viserion chirped as happily as his rider.

'Not once did I ever think that Viserion would choose a rider'. Daenerys thought silently as she watched her mother laugh, looking as happy as a blooming flower in Spring.

 “They say dragons came from the moon, would you say we might be able to reach it?” Dany japed, a faint smile playing on her lips as she urged Drogon higher, not by much, only to challenge her golden child to follow along.

“Oh— I think you overestimate how good of a rider I make, my love! If we do reach the moon, then we shall make an empire as big and bright for all of the normal world to see, full of dragons who will fly between earths, and of course in the gardens we shall make a new red door and plant so many lemon trees that the whole castle will smell wonderfully!” Spoke the determined mother.

“How do you…”, “Oh please, sweetling, if you just assume I know nothing of your past, that would make me a horrible mother as well as spirit.” The silver haired woman said then, a slightly serious tone embraced her voice, “I make a vow to you now, the moment King's Landing is yours, I will personally build that door.”

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“What do you mean Rhaella Targaryen is alive, Tyrion? Just how much did you drink today, it's starting to mess with your head, my friend.” Varys questioned, tense.

Tyrion rubbed his face in his palms, “We were questioning the men who remained alive, Daenerys was right, most of Cersei's forces were adamant on taking Highgarden but due to the knowledge of their attack, they were outnumbered. Viserion appeared out of the skies carrying the previous Queen Rhaella on his back. Her laughter was real, Varys, not even being burned alive will make me tell you otherwise, ask any of our prisoners, they saw her just as I did, ask Jaime, I never saw him so horrified in my life.”

All the eunuch could do is stare, his forehead becoming a sea of wrinkles, if he were to have eyebrows, they would have been touching each other at the expression he was making.

“So many dead people are coming back, seeking our Queen. What is happening, why is it happening, how, I cannot even begin to comprehend the words leaving your mouth Tyrion.” Varys shakes his head, giving up on standing and joining Tyrion as they now both sit in chairs of the Dragonstone library.

“This started after the Red Priestess came, following after her, Ned Stark came.” Tyrion thought out loud, helplessly trying to put the pieces together, as he hated being left in the dark, but darkness was a bitch to fight alone whilst not finding a source of light to lighten the darkness.

“We're dealing with this while your sister dwells deeper into madness. The last report I had gotten from my birds said that she used wildfire to destroy the Tower of the Hand, demanding you were in the walls. This cannot go any further, Tyrion, we need to secure King's Landing before all of the people will vanish. They're already falling dead on the streets, mothers are dying with their children in their arms as the men are sent to fight.” The eunuch spoke, his voice falling empty as he recited the letter he had gotten.

The dwarf before him looked as pale as milk and as clouded by terror as he expected. 

Varys recalled the harsh words the Queen he chose to follow threw his way, while not directly, he now thought of the words day and night. ‘I will not stand aside and see boys and girls that have not yet bloomed be hung by their necks because the nobles could not give two shits about them as they went on about their day’

The more he thought, the more hideous the picture looked. He swore to serve the realm, when did he stop doing so?

When did the extreme amount of power hungriness begin to settle in his heart?

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Chapter Text

The people on Dragonstone were left appalled to see the once Queen Rhaella before their eyes, still as beautiful as the whispers called her before her doom.

The Westerosi who were in the Targaryen ancestral home, looked at the woman in either horror or absolute confusion.

“Now I really have to think about what I said about my grandchildren coming out of the ground.” Lady Olenna broke the silence, her usual sarcastic demeanour remained in her voice, despite her eyes expressing clear surprise.

Rhaella smiled widely, she arrived on dragon back alongside the young Queen, her hair a slight mess as the air blew through it just mere minutes before.

The woman could see the people who were in the war room were extremely tense, or well, the men mostly.

Lord Varys looked at her as if she was a phantom, and for that she cannot fully blame the man, for he too alongside everyone else knew her dead.

The rest of their meeting had gone as well as she could have hoped for, since her daughter had to rush out and speak to her forces.

She knew her darling girl had a plan she was not ready to share with the council, so she reassured her that she would be okay going inside the castle alone.

As the once Queen walked around the castle, she came to face the one and only Eddard Stark.

His eyes were wide, his mouth opened slightly. 

Rhaella was not exactly any better, for she did not know she would come to face with the northern man so soon.

The silver headed woman cleared her throat and spoke, “Lord Stark.” She greeted him, while she was not phased of the things happening around her as every other person was, it was almost foolishly amusing to how things came to turn out. She had seen everything that had happened in the world many times before.

Not once would she have thought she would ever end up meeting the Lord of Winterfell before, for she felt a bittersweet feeling about the way her children came to be, alongside her son's wife, bless her memory. 

While not sure if the man before her knew anything about how the one and only Tywin Lannister decided to get rid of the Dornish woman, she felt the need to scream at the man, for she came to love Elia as her own.

“What…” Was the only thing he managed to say, the silver haired woman felt her blood spike in heat for whatever reason, she did not exactly know how to go on about this forming issue.

“It…is a pleasure to meet the Lord of Winterfell.” Rhaella managed to say back, and gods forbid her tone sounded odd to her own ears. The situation was uncomfortable for both parties.

“How are you here?” His tone as quiet as a whisper. He shook his head as if she would disappear while doing so.

“Just as you are, my Lord.” Was the only thing she could think of to say back.

Something seemed to have awakened within the man right there and then, he blinked quickly before taking a few steps back.

“Your Grace — My Lad—...” Ned quickly shut his mouth, for he knew he must have started to look foolish as he tried to come up with a response.

“No, my Lord. “Your Grace” is my daughter, for I am just Rhaella as of now. If she decides to bless me with a title, you shall know what to call me then, since I am Queen no longer.” The woman bore a faint smile on her lips, it almost came to her naturally to smile in tricky situations, after all, her late husband was not the one to care what she had to say or not, he cared about obedience, and so she had grown a habit.

“I do not think it would be appropriate for me to call you by your…name, my Lady.” Through his confusion, Rhaella could understand he knew how to keep his composure, and to even mask the feelings he must experience in the moment.

“All right.” She nodded slowly, the tense air was almost suffocating however she could be a bit relieved about his pretending that he just accepted the circumstances, perhaps not having yet processed what happened, but then she saw him.

“Oh! Daario dear! What good is it that I come to find you!” Rhaella spoke as soon as her eyes found the man.

Daario's eyes widened slightly at the woman, however a smile grew on his lips as he then saw who was speaking to him. “My Lady.” He then eyed the man beside the woman as he approached.

‘Ah! He gets it!’ Rhaella thought quickly, “Would you mind taking me to my daughter? I am afraid I have lost her whereabouts.” She took the chance.

The man extended his hand to her as he stopped a few steps before her, “I just came back from talking to her, come with me, I'll take you to her.” And with that she took his arm.

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Rhaella had taken a deep breath as she managed to walk out of the castle alongside one of her daughter's lovers.

Daario did not question her oddness until they were in the windy air of the island.

“I assume you and the northerner don't quite get along, my Lady?” His tone was light as a feather, as if he was trying to make her feel more at ease.

Rhaella shook her head, “I do not think I had ever met him, face to face I mean. You see, my late husband was the cause of the rebellion he was a part of. Robert Baratheon and Eddard had associated with Tywin Lannister, and the Lannister had ended my oldest son's wife in plain cruelty and horror.” 

Daario listened, though the woman felt his arm go stiff, and ever so slightly pulled her closer into him. “I see. In my lessons Missandei had started to give me in order to help me become a more noble-like man, she also gave me some books the Westeros Maesters wrote, I know that not being in exactly good terms with The Faith can get you to be written completely the wrong way in their books. Now I see I was somewhat right. In the books I had read, they wrote Tywin as “formidable and shrewd political strategist”, but as now I asked you, a person who lived and ‘knew’ him, the way he is described by you, my Lady, makes me think he was nothing but a man with power.” 

The previous Queen shook her head again, “While he was a good political strategist, he was not the genius most people describe him. If you could have gotten under his skin, you could have gotten him to react, that was his weakness. Tywin was emotionally invested in restoring the pride of House Lannister. Once he began to form a reputation, the people started to fear the lions again, and fear, as you know, child, keeps people in line.” Rhaella paused for a moment, “His brother, Kevan Lannister, was the actual better man in this political game. People underestimated him, giving him an advantage. Tywin was the more brutal and ruthless one, however he was really reliant on his brother. He was the one who tried to undo all the horrid stuff his House left behind.” At the end of her explanation, her throat fell slightly sore, and her tongue numb.

 The man beside her did not react immediately, making her believe he was thinking. 

“So Tywin killing Elia Martell was just a show off? Or to anger Dorne? Perhaps make them fear him?” The bearded man questioned, and with a look on his face, the silver haired woman's suspicion was right, he was indeed in deep thought.

“I believe so, but that did nothing to help him. While Oberyn Martell did die trying to avenge his sister, his daughters seek vengeance, the ones of Ellaria Martell at least. You see, in Dorne, bastards are not treated as around the other six kingdoms. And Oberyn took responsibility for the children he had made. Dorne stood strongly against The Conquest, refusing to bend, so I do not understand what the Lannisters thought they would achieve by angering them.” Rhaella looked around the shore as they approached it, but she could not exactly see her daughter, only her children and the men gathering tools for what she believed to be mining.

‘Dragon glass.’ Rhaella then understood, Dany went to tell her soldiers to start the mining process.

“My Lady.” Daario started, a sense of unease taking the previous Queen by storm as the tone in his voice fell reluctant.

“Yes, dear? Is something the matter?” Rhaella asked him, as their walk came to a halt.

“You say… you have come back from being dead, right?” The switch to High Valyrian did not make her feel anymore at ease, for she understood then that the subject was not to be heard by the wrong ears.

“Yes…? It is a difficult thing to try and explain, but I had been dead for a very long time before you had seen me at the cave.” She, too, switched.

“I started to have memories I do not recall having lived through. I have those nightmares in which I wake up enraged.” Daario spoke with an unsure tone in his voice, his eyes meeting her at last and the woman saw a lowly lit fire look back.

“Oh.” What was she supposed to answer within that moment? “What do you mean?”

Daario sighed heavily, “I have memories of a letter that the dwarf had sent to me in Essos, I have memories of being left behind by Her Grace. I have memories of Daenerys being announced dead, mad, then I remember fighting to keep her laws alongside my promise in Essos. It keeps repeating, like a wheel that can't stop working.” 

Rhaella felt her chest fall heavy as her eyes widened more and more. She couldn't remember what happened after her daughter's deaths, for she could not bear to watch. “Oh, my child.” And in that moment, the once Queen felt her heart squeeze between her ribs.

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Melisandre felt her nerves tick in unease, she felt uncomfortable. The Priestess felt a worsening headache as she stared into the flames in hopes for something…something to finally show!

She groaned in frustration as the flames did not reflect anything once more. Her confusion and anger grew greatly the past year as the fire she watched guide her through life, just stopped guiding her.

Was burning the young princess affecting her powers? Or were her mistakes coming to catch her by the cloak? Did she choose wrong again? 

Melisandre knew one of her greatest mistakes was burning the young Shireen. She could not have been Nissa Nissa, her death wasn't willing. But what she did not know was that her powers would have come to a stop soon after.

This was not right, something happened, something keeps happening, but what exactly?

The Priestess had been in Winterfell for the past year, she chose to follow Jon Snow, believing he was the one she was meant to follow, but then after her decision was made, the fires rejected her.

“I will pay for my mistakes please, please show me something, anything.” The Red Priestess begged the fire in the chamber she was given upon arrival alongside the Northern King.

A chill came up her spine as she then felt a pair of eyes watch her from behind.

“So this god of yours had stopped showing you a path? Have you had killed Shireen for nothing?!” Davos exclaimed, his voice aggressive. While the man did not lose his composure close to at all, when it came to the young princess, he would have sacrificed even his life for her to live and the Priestess knew, in that moment he was ready to bring a sword to her neck.

“How long have you been here for?” She questioned.

“Long enough to know your lord has stopped answering your prayers.” The knight spoke firmly, clenching and unclenching his fists in distress. “Answer my question, has little Shireen’s death meant nothing?” Davos asked again.

Melisandre looked at the ground, her gaze twitchy. “I do not know.” For the first time, or perhaps not the first, she had been wrong.

“What do you mean you don't know?” His tone was full of frustration. 

The Red Priestess winced, “Something is changing. Or rather has changed.” 

“Gods be damned woman, stop being cryptic for once! What do you mean you don't know?” His tone was more pressuring, more agitated as the conversation went on.

“I am sure of my powers no longer.”

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“In a fortnight, we take over King's Landing, we stick with the plan of getting the people away from the main street as far as we can while the Unsullied will enter the castle.” Daenerys instructed as they were once more in the war room, now however, the room was fuller.

“I will need you to try and get her sworn guard as a hostage however, I have a plan for him.” The young Queen looked toward Kinvara for a moment, “Could we?” She asked.

Kinvara smiled, giving her a small nod. “Chains of fire cannot be opposed, no matter the beast.” 

“Why could we not just kill the monster? Oberyn died fighting it, I do not see why he should be allowed to live?” Ellaria's voice was full of confusion.

“He will not live, I will make sure of it, though it is not my fate to kill him.” Daenerys reassured the woman, “Kinvara, when he is taken, be sure to take “care” of him for the time being.”

“Of course, Your Grace.” The Priestess nodded once more.

“Ser Jorah, I will need you to go with the Dothraki and Daario when they are to take the people away from the wildfire. You speak their language and the people of Westeros will trust a person who was raised amongst them. Tell the Dothraki the instructions and assure the people that they are going to safety, though we will need other common tongue speakers…” The young Queen trailed off, thinking who to give the job to.

“Lord Tyrion.” She then loudly announced, making the short man flinch. “Would you take part of this alongside Ser Jorah, Daario and Lord Varys?” And in that moment she knew the eunuch was looking at her too.

“I… Your Grace?” Tyrion looked confused at the sudden command, since as of recent he was mainly excluded. 

“While I am aware, the people of King's Landing might not trust you, after all, you are a part of the House the current Queen is from, however you are convincing.” Daenerys reasoned, “Lord Varys will be the voice of reason, while you do the reassuring and convincing alongside Ser Jorah, however you will need to do it more and quickly as he will assist Daario in guiding the Dothraki.” 

“I…I shall not disappoint you, Your Grace.” Tyrion spoke with slight reluctancy in his voice.

“If I may intervene, I thought I would be of better help in guiding Your Grace inside the castle?” Varys spoke, his expression showing signs of confusion.

“Lord Varys, you are a wise man, but the people need to see familiar faces amongst the crowds. My mother will come on Viserion alongside the Unsullied, she knew of the passages and the directions Lord Stark had told us about.” Daenerys threw a glance towards the northerner, who when spotted her gaze, straightened his back slightly.

Varys then nodded, hesitantly, but he showed her that he agreed with her statement.

“Now, Euron Greyjoy will be a slight problem. I am expecting to see him in the following days, if he does not show up, then he already chose where he stood and his fleet will be a problem. His scorpions will try to take my children, I will need you, Yara.” The silver haired woman looked at the Greyjoy woman who was accompanied by Theon. “Have at least twenty of your ships corner him, take him down. There are around twenty scorpions on those ships, most of them will be near the main one that Euron is on. Drogon will take as many ships as he can while Viserion and my mother will come from behind his fleet, and use the element of surprise.” Daenerys then cleared her throat, “This is the plan in case our arrival will somehow be notified, but we are not giving them the time to ready their soldiers and ships, I expect us to not need it, but if it comes to it, you know what to do.”

“On the note that we do manage to get to King's Landing with no interrupting, Yara, as the captain of the ships, will hold the city under siege and take the people that are able to escape, out of the land. Lord Tyrion, Lord Varys, Ser Jorah and Daario, you will follow the Dothraki when they invade. I will burn down the gates and the walls with Drogon so more of our men can join in, until that point, you will use the hidden passages.” The young Queen looked over the King's Landing part of the painted table, her eyes drifting across corners.

“Muña, you will need to go higher in the clouds, where you will not easily be spotted, circle the city until you see me appear. After that moment, I will need you to wait until the walls are down, then the two of us alongside Grey Worm and his Unsullied will take over the castle.” She saw her mother give her a reassuring smile and nod.

“Grey Worm,” the man in question met her eyes, “I will need around 40 of your men with us as the others will split, The Mountain is not human any longer, and if we can capture him, he will be tricky to sustain, if you think you cannot hold him, strike him, and strike him hard. Kinvara, you shall join us when we get inside the castle. If you can reach us before we face The Mountain, we will need you.” Daenerys saw the Priestess tilt her head slightly.

“You will not have to worry about that, my Queen, he will be retained, and he shall be treated the way you wish.” Kinvara spoke firmly.

“All right, it is time for us to get to work, we have a long battle way ahead of us.”

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Chapter Text

“Lord Euron Greyjoy. To what do I owe the pleasure?” A sarcastic note fell on her tone as she stood once more on the throne of Dragonstone.

At her side stood sweet Missandei on her right and on the left stood a stiff looking Ser Jorah. 

Varys was near as well as Tyrion, who insisted on being present as the meeting proceeded.

Yara was near, that she knew, as she told the woman to wait for her call to appear.

“Daenerys Targaryen. You must allow me to be surprised, most of us believed we would never encounter a Targaryen in our lives.” The man chuckled, what was so amusing, no one in the room knew.

Dany moved her eyebrows up slightly, an unimpressed look overtaking her face and she could have sworn she heard Missandei smile.

“As you say, my Lord. Yet here I stand, with you before me. So speak, why have you sought an audience with me this present day?” Even if she already knew the reason why, as she predicted it, she wanted the pleasure of denying him.

The man wore a cocky grin and his tunic was slightly open as if expecting the young woman to bow at his feet.

“Your Grace, you are a powerful woman. And I, a powerful man. I see we could benefit from an alliance. So, I am here to offer you my fleet and I offer you to be my wife. Together, the seven kingdoms would fall beneath our feet. I could make you scream my name day and night as well, heard from the ladies I have quite the good cock.” Euron sounded confident, extremely confident actually. He was a foolish man too sure of himself as he was in the previous life she had remembered.

‘You took my child from me. You, who cannot see past your pride, died a plain death. As if you deserved to rest in peace.’ Dany’s angry thoughts lingered as she listened to the man.

Her fingers clasped against each other so hard she could feel them cracking quietly.

“That is indeed a…”generous” offer. However, I am not seeking a marriage alliance from no one, my Lord.” She spoke with a false softness in her voice that made her laugh on the inside as she watched the man change his confident expression to one of confusion.

“You…must be jesting. You need a consort to rule, surely you have thought of that.” The amused confusion made her feel as if he was trying to talk with a little girl.

“I did think of that, my Lord. Your niece had pledged her loyalty to me, so she has already become mine.” Dany smiled, an amusing feeling was crippling in her chest as she watched him turn angry.

“What?” The Greyjoy Lord loudly exclaimed. His eyebrows furrowed and gaze ablaze.

“While yes, your fleet must be a proud one, I doubt you and your niece would get along as my concubines, and I am sure you would refuse the offer to become one. Yara, if you may,” Daenerys called out to the young woman who was nearby but remained unseen until that moment, “He is all yours, as I promised you, helping you take down an uncle, my gift to you as my official concubine.” 

Yara was grinning as she appeared before the Queen as well. “Thank you, my Queen.” 

Yara’s men ran behind Euron, grasping his arms to restrain him. The man yelled, cursing the women and every soul he could have thought of at that moment.

He was dragged away into the dungeons hitting and screaming but to no avail as his pride made him seek an audience alone, with no guards at his disposal to prove himself to be a challenge to get rid of.

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People of King's Landing were taken by storm. 

Tyrion walked alongside Varys through the streets, the people were being evacuated as fast as possible. The short man was doing everything in his power to calm the children who were crying in panic as their parents ran away as soon as they saw the men come near.

It was pitch black outside, the Lanniser soldiers must have not been alerted yet of the chaos in the city as the Dothraki were going unbothered through the main streets.

It was odd to see the wild men not brutalise whatever they came across, but Tyrion understood their devotion towards their Khaleesi’s orders were sacred. Going against their traditions must have been hard to get accommodated to.

As swiftly as a wind, the streets were emptied, the people reluctantly listening and rushing toward the gates and onto the ships who stood by the city.

Tyrion shivered as he saw the state the citizens were skeletal and in a fixated dead-like state. Some of the women had their skin turn slightly green at how sick they looked.

“The city smells worse than I ever remembered it to.” Jorah whispered more to himself, however it was heard by the dwarf and Varys as they were close to the man.

“My sister is not a ruler, she does not know how to use her power in the favour of the people.” Tyrion tried to reason, his eyebrows furrowing as indeed, an unbreathable smell hit his nose while they advanced towards the city. “I truly wish I was drunk out of my mind so I would not remember the current state of the city.” He spoke his regret of not drinking before coming up the shore with a slight lightness in his tone, trying and failing to make himself feel something beside a weirdly placed guilt. 

“Your sister sent the men to war and the women left alone to fend for themselves and their children with little to no supplies for the upcoming Winter, Lord Tyrion.” Varys did not humour him at that moment, as he was focused on the small folk.

Before the dwarf could even think of a reply, a horrific roar broke from the clouds, signalling that their Queen had come for the gates.

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Dany's veins burned as hot as her mount's fire.

She felt her child underneath her, she could feel his building rage as they both began to see the godforsaken Red Keep.

There, she was before the castle that took her sweet Missandei away. The wind was beating hard as Drogon's wings beat against the current, the night making the castle look more intimidating.

Daenerys envisioned sweet Missandei's head falling off the same walls she was now approaching to destroy.

Grasping onto Drogon’s scales, she took a shaky breath and urged him forward.

Knowing by that point her presence was known, she had to act quickly.

Daenerys whispered, “Dracarys,” her voice falling steady, angry. She did not recall ever saying the command in her previous life, the previous time she was in King's Landing.

Drogon understood, and so his fire fell upon the gates.

The structure went down quickly, as Drogon was bigger, stronger. Dany could see the Unsullied begin to go over the burnt gates, she spotted Grey Worm at the head of her troops, leading the men through the streets.

The young woman felt her heart tug, Viserion was waiting for her and her mother's lead. 

Concentrating her mind toward her dear daughter's presence, she pulled their bond near her and Drogon, urging the golden winged dragon to appear alongside her brother.

The moonlight embraced Viserion’s golden scales, as from the highest point she could see in the skies, abruptly broke between the clouds with glittering strong wings.

With a look beneath, the Unsullied had broken into the castle, screams of falling Lannister soldiers filled her ears in an instant.

Her eyes flew towards her mother, who was circling her, most likely having followed her previous glare.

Daenerys took a deep breath, then gave her mother a strong nod. Once the woman saw it, they both rapidly urged their mounts toward the castle.

 

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Kinvara met the troops and the two women as soon as they entered the castle, having arrived there before them.

Finding Cersei was not the challenge Daenerys thought it would have been, she was in the same room as she was on the day of the doom of King's Landing.

Qyburn was not by her side, they caught him right before he could have gone and alerted the Lannister Queen that they were in the castle.

Having no way of triggering the wildfire, they had lost. Cersei lost the only way she could defend herself and her reign.

The woman tried to claw Dany's eyes out — though was stopped by the Unsullied, as her angry sobs echoed through the castle halls, she was placed in a magic protected cell underneath the castle.

The Mountain all but growled at the men who sustained him. As she was promised, the fire chains restrained him, burning his skin as he struggled to fight against the unmoving power.

“My Queen,” Kinvara started, “I shall watch over him until you obtain the source for his death.” The Priestess finished.

Daenerys only nodded at her friend, her heart thundered between her ribs as it was all at last, finally coming to an end.

With the once man gone as both he and the follower of R'hllor vanished out of sight, his grunting no longer being heard.

Grey Worm touched her shoulder a moment later, behind his helmet, she could see his eyes holding relief as he too, understood it was done, the battle was finished before the sun was up in the skies.

“Are you all right?” She questioned her soldiers who she had told to accompany them in the castle. “We shall treat your wounds at the nearest opportunity, we cannot risk infections.” Dany rushed the last part out.

“Khaleesi. We won.” Grey Worm stated as soon as the words left her lips. “We have won the battle, the kingdoms are yours, my Queen.” And so he knelt before her, as a knight ready to achieve his title.

No words came out of the young Queen's mouth then.

“My daughter.” Her mother reached out and touched her cheek. Rhaella held such a proud look in her eye, such affection the young Targaryen did not know how to receive. 

Her mother followed Grey Worm, and as soon as her knees touched the stone, the Unsullied soldiers knelt around their Khaleesi, who just obtained another title.

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Walking towards the throne felt surreal. As if it was something she should not be doing, something she was having a dream about.

The walls were intact, there was no damage done to the interior of the castle. Ash did not fall from the skies as if it was snow, everything was different.

Dany did not notice her hand trembling as she walked forward, a chill ran down her spine the more steps passed.

She felt watched, besides the soft gaze of her mother, she felt a warm presence near.

‘You were here the whole time.’ The corner of her lips curved upwards in the slightest. 

With a ragged breath, her foot touched the swords that played the role of stairs, and so she started to ascent.

Before she knew it, the rough seat was right before her, however she felt hesitant to take the seat. ‘Did I ever imagine myself on the Iron Throne? I have it now, why does this feel so unfitting,’ her thoughts became incoherent for a heart beat, furrowing her eyebrows, her head turned toward her mother. For a reason unknown to her, she thought her mother would not be there, that there would be Jon Snow with the dagger ready to strike.

Rhaella gave her a grin, nodding her way, she was proud and waiting.

Not trusting herself enough to give her a smile-like expression back, she turned her back to the throne, and ever so slowly, she sat.

A broken chuckle escaped the older Targaryen’s throat, as underneath the smile she wore, tears began to spill as rain drops from clouds during storms.

“My darling girl, that throne could not ever be fitful for the person you are.” Rhaella said with another watery laugh. “The only people I saw take seats on that damned monstrosity were wicked and unworthy. Yet here you are, a person I could not think more worthy, looking wrong on it.” 

Daenerys looked down and nodded, her heart twisted strangely. “It seems as if you are supposed to look down upon each before you, a feeling I do not want to embrace.” Her lower lip caught itself between her teeth before she could grit them. “I wish Drogon's fire was still spilled upon the metal.” 

Chapter Text

Daenerys laid on the floor.

Her back was hard pressed against the cold stone of one of the Red Keep chambers.

The world seemed to be rotating, the ground did not stabilize her feet as she stood, so the only other option she could think of was to force the ground to stay still, thus the decision to lay on it.

“Dany— oh my heavens, what are you doing?” Her mother's sweet voice rang through the almost empty chamber.

She wanted to respond, her lips however, did not move. Her breathing was normal as she could tell, yet her lids threatened to close at any point.

“Sweetness?” Rhaella was approaching as far as her ears could tell. “My darling, what is wrong?” Her dear mother's voice began to fall nervous.

After another unanswered question, Rhaella began to turn frantic, she rushed toward her daughter's side, her knees touching the stone in a heartbeat.

“Dany!” The silver haired woman demanded an answer, Daenerys’ mouth made no effort to move.

Rhaella’s hands trembled as she tried to shake her daughter awake from the trance she seemed to be in. Cursing under her breath, she screamed; “Kinvara!” Her voice rang through the halls, alerting the guards placed near the chamber.

Ever so slightly, Dany could see her mother's mouth move through her barely open eyes. The light reflecting on her dearest mother's face making the newfound tears streaming down her face glitter.

“Kinvara!” As the world began to turn dark, the last thing she could hear was Rhaella's echoing screams for the Red Priestess. Maybe it was just a dream she forced herself to bring comfort as the cold dagger struck her.

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‘My dearest, this encounter was not foreseen in the tapestry of fate I had woven for us.’

And so she awoke in the realm beyond, the concerned voice of her called husband touched her heart tenderly, as if they were a couple and she had been poisoned.

“Am I dead?” Dany asked, the world was stable at last, she could stay without feeling as if she was destined to faint.

‘No, my love, you have not departed from this mortal coil. Yet, were my heart of mortal flesh, it would have ceased thrice over at the capricious nature of your being.’

Daenerys wished she could understand what had happened, for she did not enjoy tormenting her god, though she had no explanation for the turn of events the say had taken.

“Do you happen to have an idea of why I could not feel my body any longer?” The young Queen questioned as the fire took the form of man.

‘Your past lives weigh heavily upon your essence, my dearest flame. At long last, you have defied the constraints of fate. Though a year has elapsed since your demise in past eras, you have surmounted the singular obstacle that once barred your path, It appears to have manifested physically.’ 

‘In your absence from the realm beyond, I found myself unable to mend the burgeoning wounds that beset you. Sleep eluded you, consumed as you were by the relentless demands of battle, neglecting the care of your own being.’ 

“I apologize, I know I was careless as of recently, taking focus from my health to get the kingdoms back was a stupid decision, I am aware of such. I was going to talk to you once the sun set, but ever since the war ended four days ago, I could not catch the time to embrace the flames I felt your presence in. And before I knew it, the world around me spun as if I was dancing.” Daenerys rubbed her temples in frustration, having lacked sleep and failing to eat a full meal yet, made her feel nauseous, though she ignored it as she tried to place everything Cersei left back in order.

That meant starting repairs in the city as well as preparing to rebuild the Tower of The Hand as the previous Queen blew it. Not even mentioning the Sept Of Baelor, which needed to be reconstructed back from ground.

‘I do not hold you accountable for the inadvertent neglect you have bestowed upon yourself, my beloved. Yet, comprehend this: we are intertwined, our souls entwined in a symbiotic dance, wherein your essence cradles mine, and my presence shields yours. In mysterious ways, we breathe life into each other, and for the present, I implore you to allow me near, that your being may continue its vital function.’

Daenerys' lips formed a smile as the god gave her his reassurances, even as she knew, it was her fault for the most of it, hearing him deny so made her heart flutter.

“I shall do as you say, my dear husband.” Came as a response.

Her skin embraced the heat of the world beyond, she had missed being here, as for the past moons she had rarely taken rest in the world which brought her so much comfort.

‘I have observed, my moonlight, that with each upheaval, the question 'Am I dead?' lingers upon your lips, as if an echo of some haunting refrain. I find myself pondering the origin of this fixation, for it weighs upon my non-existent heart like a shadow upon the moon.’

 That was not a question she had expected to hear. For she kept the darkest of her fears close to heart, yet here he was, the one who saves her time and time again, pointing out the most ugly one.

Her teeth came in contact with her tongue, as she bit it, to the point it almost hurt. Her thoughts fell silent suddenly, as if it was just the two of them in the whole wide world.

“I…” The words refused to come out, for she wished she could word it in such a way he could understand her thought process without feeling as if she does not believe him and his warm words that he always bestowed to her.

The flame form circled her slowly, as if trying to inhale her body inside the flames. It felt as an embrace, and she assumed he was trying to do as such.

“I do not know if you ever felt as if the world is lying to you, mayhaps, that your existence is a dream you force yourself to find comfort in?” Dany's explanation came out as a question, she did not correct it. “I feel as if I created this imaginary life for myself, a life where I did not embrace the feeling of despair as I did. A life where I was loved, a life where I did not fail my people as I did,” a small pause, “a life where I had a family which did not resent my being and wished my existence to bloom.” 

The flames became warmer, as if he was trying to cover her in the warmth she craved before, a shield of his own, she thought.

‘How might I unveil the verity of your existence? How can I imbue your heart and soul with the certainty that you are alive, cherished, and indispensable? I vow to employ every means at my disposal and transcend the limits of possibility to bestow upon you a profound sense of reassurance amidst the tumultuous currents of life.’

Dany noticed her heart sought his reassurance in that moment. “I do not know, what I do know is that without you, here with me, I would have not believed anything was real and I…” Her eyes widened before she could finish her sentence, the words refused to continue.

The form had no human expression, for it did not bear a face, though she could swear it froze (‘Can fire freeze?’ a thought whispered over another), as if caught off guard.

There was a line she did not dare cross, as she had yet to declare her love for any, as in the love one swears to another under the bedding covers.

R'hllor did not speak, for a moment, then two, then three. Daenerys began to feel her heart grasp the nervous feelings crippling inside it.

‘Daenerys, behold... The moments spent safeguarding and shepherding you have wrought a transformation within me.’

For the first time since she had began to felt him near, he had spoken of her name directly, not as he did when he was trying to awaken her as he brought her back, but addressing her by name with an incredibly affectionate note, or what she could tell was an affectionate tone, for she believed her mind began to understand him without direct questions.

“I feel as if I should apologize, though I do not know what I would be apologizing for.” A silly feeling caught her thoughts as she gave the flames an downward smile, perhaps not understanding yet what changes could he be talking about.

‘Why do you apologize for embodying your exquisite essence, my flame? As my chosen, such transformation was inevitable. You, Daenerys Stormborn, defy the very fabric of this world by your mere existence. And yet, the changes stirring within me are not of despair; instead, I sense a deepened bond with the ever-shifting world I behold, a heightened sense of humanity coursing through my power.’

Having no idea of what to respond with, she hesitantly gave him a nod, waiting for him to continue if he wished for it, confusion making its presence known through her thoughts.

 ‘I love you, my bride of fire, my love for you spanning across the ages since your inception. Initially, I struggled to comprehend the depths of my desire to protect and guide you. Yet, in this shared existence, you have illuminated the intricacies of mortal emotions, teaching me to cherish you as a husband adores his wife, as a knight reveres his queen, and as a deity willingly surrenders to love his chosen.’

Her lips parted in surprise, for she mayhaps deep down knew, though for the words to be spoken out at last, caught her in such a way that now it was her turn to feel dumbstruck.

“I…” Words suddenly tasted foreign on her tongue, her throat refused to make any other sounds than the sound of her own breathing.

‘I sense your love in the quietude of your being, in the unwavering gaze you cast upon me even in my silent vigil. Your affection resonates deeply within me, and amidst the tumult of this victorious moment, there is no need for spoken declarations. The aftermath of war engulfs us, and in this moment, your love speaks volumes without the need for words.’

“No, you misunderstand me, I wish to declare my love for you as you did to me, however words…words are hard for us humans, especially in moments of such emotions.” Her throat felt raspy by the end of her argument, though she would not back down. If she wished to heal, she needed to be able to handle such intimate feelings.

Daenerys took a deep breath then began, “R'hllor, you have been my guide, with and without my knowledge, I look for your light in my darkness, and you are always there when I need you most. I hope you believe me when I say I love you wholeheartedly. It might be the first time I said such words out loud, first time I declared as such, but I am glad it is you who gets to hear them.” The smile that overtook her lips was one of affection, her fingers touched the fire that embraced her, the flames seemingly touching her as well.

‘Then I am content to be the fortunate recipient of your boundless love and affection, my dear.’

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When her eyes were hit by the light of reality, her bones felt as if they were stones.

Dany groaned, the pain becoming unbearable as she became conscious.

“Easy, Your Grace. The medicine has yet to take effect.” The gentle voice of a certain priestess spoke, brushing her palm against the young Queen's forehead.

“For what it's worth, next time I overwork myself to death, knock me out with force.” Dany grunted as sweat broke out of her skin, the sudden pain kicked her with the force of a hard stone as she had been peaceful until her waking moment.

“As you say, sweet one.” Kinvara smiled, though she was focusing the hand which was not touching the young Queen's face toward her stomach.

Ever so slightly, Dany felt less pain toward her abdomen as she did so, a small smile appearing on her face as she whispered, “Thank you.”

The priestess gave her a small nod then sat on the chair next to the bed Dany was placed on.

“Lady Rhaella has been extremely distraught, sweet one, same goes with your advisors alongside your concubines.” Kinvara explained, bringing her arm to rest on her Queen's body, as if healing with the mere touch. “Daario was the one to carry you to a clean bed, Lady Olenna was rather aggressive toward your council for letting you overdo yourself, also two of her I believe alive grandchildren had made their way in King's Landing alongside her.” 

“I am glad they got here safely then. I hope we have somewhere to place them for the time being, I would hate for them to not have guests chambers and such. I will apologise to muña the moment I see her.” Dany paused as a wave of pain hit her upper body, making her grit her teeth in absolute agony. 

As soon as she did so, Kinvara was up on her feet and holding her chest and head with the most gentleness Daenerys had seen from the woman.

“It will take about an hour to ease your pain, sweet one, the spell is a powerful but slow one, and your body was rejecting a lot of supplies that you were given.” The Red Priestess explained as from her hands, small threads of red magic began to wrap around her head.

“How…how long was I out for?” Dany quietly questions as a hiss comes through her teeth.

“Soon to be a week, the illness hit you all at once, as you did not experience side effects beside the stab wound we took care of back in Meereen. Worry not, it will go away, with time, as I believe my Lord had told you.” A sympathetic yet teasing grin appeared on the red woman's face.

The shock was not as powerful as it would have been if Daenerys was not in the position of immense pain, though her eyes were wide, both from the pain and the surprise.

“A week? My god, what about —”, “Hush, you will only make your condition worse if you worry about things that can wait.” And with that, the young Queen was silenced as sleep knocked at her door.

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Chapter Text

“We meet at last.” A Valyrian speaking voice had said, the woman's voice reminding Daenerys of her mother's.

The young Queen stepped forward, as the world around her looked almost similar to the Red Keep. It was not the realm beyond, that was for certain, though she was not in reality, either.

“Are you one of my ancestors?” Dany questioned, having grown oddly adapted to seeing people that once were, as the woman had her back at her and was watching something out the window.

The woman's slightly golden braids were blown by the wind as she stood, she was the primary image Daenerys thought of when thinking of Valyrian women.

“Why yes, my dear. I am your great grandmother, more or less.” And then she finally turned. “You might have heard of me as, “Rhaenyra the Cruel”, or the once Realm's Delight.” Her eyes shined violet as the sunlight filled the room.

“Oh,” Dany paused, “You are the only other person I had actually spoken to from my past, well not directly my past but, I believe you know what I mean.” 

“Indeed I do, sweet girl. You remind me of my Visenya.” Rhaenyra smiled gently at the younger queen, “How do you feel, now that half of the world is yours?” She asked, there was no frustration in her voice, though her question fell odd.

“I do not believe it is mine, it is the people's. Though to be honest with you, I feel as if I am dreaming each time I think of it.” Dany let herself give the woman a small smile as well. 

“Daenerys, I think all of us who were before you, came to a conclusion that it's as close to a fact as it can be.” The once Dragon Queen started, “Your person is as far from the Valyrian traditions and customs as it can be, that can be also said for your Targaryen genes.” 

A cold shiver felt down Daenerys’ spine, for she knew she was different from her ancestors. Her ideas and beliefs did not align with theirs, for she was everything but the thing you would expect from someone with Valyrian blood. Though hearing her actual ancestors outright speak it, made her feel as if she had disappointed them, and only the gods knew how she hated disappointing people.

“I do feel as if I should be apologising for not following my Targaryen ancestry, though I will not because I have no remorse for the good deeds I have done to the people who needed it. My people might have not been the same as yours, or the ones before me and you, but they are mine and I shall die before I desert them or turn my back against them.” Daenerys stood firmly as she gazed with a determination in her eyes.

Rhaenyra’s eyes widened, a look of confusion taking over her irises. “Why in the world would you apologise for not following tradition? May the gods be good, child, you are one of the or rather greatest good our family has ever had.” Her smile turned into a grin, there was no disappointment in her expression, for her presence suddenly started to feel warm.

“How if I may ask, I am nothing of what a Targaryen is supposed to be, or a Valyrian person at that.” Now it was Dany's turn to be confused.

“True, Valyrians went against your beliefs, for they held slaves and only the gods knew if that was a part of the Doom or not, they looked down upon the people as most nobility did, as well. But they were not good people, most of them at least. You are part of the good in the world, child, part of the good in House Targaryen. No matter how far you go the opposite and how different you are from the rest of us, know in your heart, you are part of the greatest in our bloodline.” Rhaenyra’s words echoed through the chamber as she finished.

Daenerys reluctantly gave the older woman a nod, inhaling quickly as she did so, her nose picking up the smell of flowers in the air.

“I am guessing we are in King's Landing during your father's reign, yes?” Dany questioned.

“Yes, I could not think of another place to meet you. And I wanted you to see the city as it was back when it was close to its greatest times.” Rhaenyra extended her hand before her, as if offering her hand to be taken by the younger Targaryen.

Instinctively, Dany's fingers entangled themselves with the woman's and so she let herself be guided.

Rhaenyra urged her toward the window behind them.

As soon as Daenerys’ gaze caught the sight outside, she could not believe her eyes.

“This…is not the King's Landing I saw.” The city looked, for lack of a better word… healthier, more colourful. The sept and the dragon pit were there, intact, whole.

“Jaehaerys’ reign was one of peace, many claimed. He was the longest Targaryen who reigned, did you know?” Rhaenyra asks gently, as if she was the younger queen’s governess.

“I do not have a lot of knowledge on many of the kings that seated the iron throne. I only know what my brother used to tell me.” Daenerys reluctantly explained, her free hand touching the stone frame of the window.

“I understand, if you wish it, I could take place in your dreams and teach you about them. I figured a thing or two about this whole threshold separation thing.” Rhaenyra chuckled, though her laugh died down quickly as her face turned serious. “I know deep in my heart your reign will be greater. You shall die of old age, holding your grandchildren and telling them stories of your life while bards sing glorious songs of your good deeds.”

Daenerys froze for a heartbeat, the thought of the length she wished to reign for had not passed her mind yet, for she just achieved the throne.

A sad smile appeared on the young Queen's face, “And what makes you so sure of it, grandmother?” She questioned, as her eyes travelled across the scenery.

“I just do.” Rhaenyra laughed shortly, the hand which held Dany let go, and found itself on the girl's shoulder, pulling her close, as if they were friends a lifetime.

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A warm hand was holding her own.

Rough hand, must be Daario.

Dany's eyes fluttered open, the light slowly adjusting in her vision.

To her surprise, it was not Daario’s voice she heard speak first, a softer voice called out, as if sensing her awakening.

“Sweet dove.” Yara's voice called, making the young Queen feel her body warmth near as soon as the sound of her voice reached her ears.

“With what scolding were the both of you allowed with my unconscious presence?” Dany's voice sounded odd to her person, however her gaze picked up the other woman's smile which turned grin when the young Queen spoke.

Yara chuckled, uncharacteristically quietly, as if the world lifted from her shoulders.

“It is quite hard to hold much resistance against two very steadfast lovers, my sweet dove. I am sure Lady Olenna will have more to say come the morrow, and then after we had our part of discipline, she shall come and set your mind straight when it comes to your health.” The Greyjoy woman reached and touched Daenerys' face, cupping one cheek in her hand.

Yara leaned down and pressed her lips on the queen's forehead.

A twitch of the hand holding her made it clear that the owner had become conscious. Her other companion must have heard the two women talking, causing him to have awakened.

“Oh my, sleeping on duty now, are we?” Daenerys' hoarse voice made her humour sound dryer than it usually was, however the form of a smile remained still on her lips.

Daario took a heartbeat to register what was happening around him, his gaze falling quickly on the owner of the hand he was holding.

“Dany.” He whispered, a gentle grin overtaking his features, as he too seemed relieved. Daario's eyes then travelled to the woman next to the queen, his eyebrows furrowed slightly, “you should have told me that she has awakened, Yara, I am rather disappointed.” his tone held no heat however, rather a slight exhaustion.

“You needed rest, Captain, you did not need to be disturbed. And our Queen had just awakened, do not assume the worst of me, for I shall battle you for my honour.” Yara's happy expression did not flatter, having gone along with the banter the man started.

“I would rather not battle in our Queen's presence, my Lady.” Daario closed his eyes as the words fell from his lips, mocking the Greyjoy woman.

“Oh, why is that? Think I cannot handle the sight of swords clanking? Why, Daario, you wound me.” Daenerys chimed in, letting out a false scoff from her throat, which resulted in it burning slightly.

“My queen, this is anything but fair, you two have united against me!” He replied, opening his eyes in untrue shock and straightening his posture.

Dany just smiled in response, the pad of her finger caressing Daario's dragon ring, in which she realised his own fingers were entangled with the ring he had given her.

In that moment, all she could have hoped for was a few more moments of peace, away from chaos and hurt. A few more moments where she felt adored.

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The week that followed had been less hectic, for she was under no surprise, supervised.

Lady Olenna made her stand that she would have it no other way, words of; “If you so wished to die, you should have not crossed the Narrow Sea to begin with!”, and other scolds the old woman met the Queen with.

The Dragon Queen took them with a smile, for she understood they were coming from a place of care, oddly executed, but still a place of care.

Daenerys' strength was ever so slowly crippling back into her body, due to Kinvara’s nightly visits, in which she would apply oils and elixirs foreign to the young Queen.

Her thoughts through the day began to wander to her Lord husband, his words proclaiming he needed to be near, echoed in her mind, for she still had yet to spot a difference.

The two met during silent nights, the realm beyond being a welcoming warmth each time the two would hold their meetings.

Though, those matters could wait questioning, as she had to build the new world she so wished for.

Word must have travelled through the realm already, as half a moon's turn had passed since the Lannister Queen no longer held the throne. 

Presently, dawn was nearing. 

Daenerys had departed from her mother to her chamber, in which Kinvara was waiting for her. Neither of her advisors wished for her to be alone at any moment until her recovery was fulfilled. 

“My Queen.” The Priestess greeted as soon as she stepped inside her resting chambers, which were temporary more or less, they had not decided yet.

“Kinvara,” Dany started, unsure how to ask a question which was so hard pressed in her mind, “when should we try to bring the others to the realm of living? I began to worry Dorne might not trust me if The Mountain is not dealt with, and I do believe they are in need of some comfort.” She had seen Lady Ellaria’s grief-stricken stares as she walked in the castle or anywhere in King's Landing.

“We shall start whenever you feel ready, sweet one, as long as you are sure you can go through with it.” Kinvara assured her.

“Then, I do believe it is time.” 

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Chapter Text

Cercei’s magic prison was quiet, for the very first time ever since she was placed in it.

Daenerys had accompanied her Priestess in the once Queen's now resting place.

“Who would have known a person can scream for so long and not run out of voice.” The silver haired woman whispered to herself.

Truly, maybe if there was a different world far away, a different time line perhaps, she would have felt a pang of pity for the fallen woman. Her fate was unfortunate, destined to be doomed since it began, and Dany only wished to know what happened to make her such a wretched soul.

The Dragon Queen's heart would be both the death of her and her strongest asset, for she wished she could take a sympathetic look at the blonde woman which remained unconscious on the hard wood bed given.

Her heart sought vengeance for her Missandei in another life, many other lives for that. She would have killed the Lannister woman the moment her eyes met her own.

But, she saw a glimpse of herself in the once Queen's dilated pupils, mayhaps in the life she remembered.

“You make me sick, for I wish I would have taken your ills, mayhaps you would not have been the way you are, now. I imagine you would have learned to not be so spiteful, but who am I to shame you.” And so, once her speech was over, she leaned down and pressed an ever so gentle kiss on the woman's forehead, a pitiful gesture.

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Oberyn was alive.

Currently unconscious, but alive.

The Lannister woman's blood indeed helped, her own exchange to be lesser.

Daenerys was panting heavily, as the heated magic took a toll on her body.

Kinvara was near Oberyn’s body, making sure everything was in place as they found him in a rather odd state.

His spirit was mindlessly roaming around a certain area in the Red Keep. Kinvara's magic aligned with Dany’s made it easier to find the lost soul.

“He might be trying to find Elia.” The Priestess offered, the candle in her hand flickering for a second, almost as if agreeing with her suggestion.

“Has he been wandering around here ever since he passed?” The Dragon Queen questioned, her heart feeling sympathetic toward the lost soul.

“That could be the case, however, Elia was able to not become a lost soul. She passed the threshold, but he could still have felt her presence. For this part of the Keep was where her life was taken.” Kinvara responded. “Even if a spirit does find it's resting, their once presence could still be felt, as nonsensical as that is.” 

Dany watched his body. It lacked scarring, one could say he was just in a deep slumber, not that he had been dead for around two years.

“He should awake in a couple of hours,” The follower of R’hllor started, as she laid him down in a bed chamber near the one her Queen took as her own.

“Will he be in any state of pain once he becomes conscious? Something akin to what I had experienced?” Daenerys spoke her concerns as she then sat in a chair near the bed.

Kinvara blinked wordlessly for a moment, then replied, “His condition will not be as unstable as yours has been, however he will experience pains like Missandei, with her neck. Pains such as the ones the Lord of Winterfell had experienced.” 

Dany just nodded, and let her thoughts take over her mind until the man himself was awake.

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‘Arise’ a wind hushed near her.

And so the young Queen jolted awake as the whispers rang in her ears, making them echo.

Trying to steady her breath, she remembered where she had faded into an unconscious state. 

Her eyes immediately found the once dead man, who was still on the bed she last saw him on.

Though a movement caught her gaze, a twitch of finger, then twitch of palm. 

Dany rose from her seat, approaching. Suddenly, his eyes opened, somehow looking cloudy. Dany’s breath got caught in her throat as she felt as if she was doing something she was not supposed to.

‘R’hllor give me strength.’ She thought as she forced her feet forward until her knees were touching the bedding.

“Are you all right?” Dany asks, forcing her voice steady, her hand reaching for a wet cloth from the ones that were placed on a plate near the bed.

The man's lips opened slightly, however no word was spoken as he seemed to lack a voice.

Understanding the situation, Dany grabbed the cloth and soaked it in the liquid placed on the plate alongside the tonic given.

Once hardly damped, she brought the cloth before the Dornish man’s mouth, and ever so gently squeezed the material to let the elixir drip down into his mouth. Though fearing he might choke, she brought the cloth a bit higher and let the drops be smaller.

Almost as if she predicted it, he coughed dryly, making her rush to lift his head so he could swallow better.

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“Your Majesty.” Daario spoke as he spotted her while walking.

Daenerys abruptly stopped her walking and stared at her concubine, “Oh, yes?” came her reply.

“I was sent to get you for the council meeting, though I believe it would be better if I told you now before. Your advisors wish for you to make an appearance before the people, for they think it has been enough time for them to get accommodated to the changes.” Daario gave her a reassuring smile, even though he was quoting what she assumed were Varys and Tyrion’s words.

“Meet them? The people's homes have not yet been rebuilt though, should they not be waiting for that to be finished?” She questioned.

Daario paused for a second, thinking, perhaps trying to put himself in the small folks position. “I believe the people wish to meet their new ruler. For they did not exchange but a couple of glances with her.”

Dany pondered on that for a moment, part of her thought that yes, the small folk deserved to know of their current ruler, but the other half could not get around the thought that this was just her advisors doing, trying to get her not so coronation over with.

“I will see what can be done, my apologies toward my council, but currently I am rather preoccupied.” A soft pang of pity hit her heart as she had to turn the man she grew fond of away, so she advanced toward him and took his hand on her own, a swift gesture, almost not registering. 

Her lips came in contact with his roughened skin as her thumb brushed over his, “it will be done, I just need more time, I swear it will make sense.” Her posture straightened, and her fingertips brushed his bearded cheek before turning back on her way.

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“Hatred is such a complicated feeling, did you know, my friend?” Dany questioned the Priestess, as they were both in the chamber where the before dead man took rest in, having fallen unconscious shortly after the almost choking.

Dany could almost tell when her friend was going to blink at the sudden statement.

“Pray tell, sweet one, what has your head wrapped?” Kinvara's tone came out sweetly, almost as sweet as the nickname she had chosen for the Queen.

“You can swear you hate someone, until they're right before you, vulnerable and weak.” Daenerys' tone turned colder, more distant, she was currently drifting through memories.

Kinvara did not respond right away, a silence of understanding perhaps. “Cersei Lannister was doomed from an early age. She concentrated her whole being around a prophecy she was told, you could look at it the same as the one Mirri had told you, though hers was true, while yours was not. Should she have chosen to still live her life, still be her person, mayhaps she would have suffered a fate kinder. Her prophecy would have happened, though I believe the gods might have been more merciful. Cersei grew her person in the sorrow that one day she will lose, and that made her envious. Of her brother, of her father, perhaps even her husband, do you see a pattern?”

“Is it the male figures in her life that she so wished to exchange lives with?” Dany questioned.

“That, and the innocence Sansa Stark had possessed, and of so many young ladies that came before her. Her wish seemed to have been both inconsistent and consistent at the same time. Truly, turning her into the person she shaped her character around.” Kinvara added, a sigh leaving her lips, as if… she had understood Dany’s thought process more than she was led to believe.

"What was her prophecy?" She questioned silently.

"Cersei would marry a king, become a queen, would have three children who would die before her, and would be taken down by a younger, more beautiful queen." Kinvara quoted, her eyes finding the violet ones. 

"If Myrcella is alive, her prophecy was not true then though..." Dany's eyebrows furrowed slightly.

"Not her," Kinvara said, "a small girl that died before she achieved her first name day." 

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Chapter Text

Hey you all, so I know I've been heavily inactive, updates have been a mess and the story lost a bit of sense as I'm reading back so I wanted to give a personal update for those who care.

I have been struggling with my mental health for the longest time and I'm ashamed to admit I have ended up hospitalised due to having overdosed in an attempt at suicide. I've been going down a dark path I'm trying to get back from. I'm trying to get everything set in order so I can write more chapters because truly I love the book, I wanna write more but my brain turns mush the moment I try to put the words down. 

As of right now I feel like I drunk so much and I'm experiencing the worst hangover. Recovery is hard, but I'm trying.

Please wait, because I'll try to get more chapters out as soon as I can. I love you all, and thank you for your support.

Chapter Text

“Long live the Queen!” said dozens in unison.

Daenerys appeared before them, as well-dressed as she permitted herself given the circumstances. At long last, she was convinced to step out of the damaged castle and show her face to the recovering smallfolk.

It felt nauseating, truly, but her heart seemed pleased, ever so slightly, that the people were recovering as well as they could.

Though, in the most distant parts of her mind, her screams filled her ears, for what tragedy, she could not tell, but her body felt ice cold.

“My people.” She addressed the crowd, women holding their children, hushed them as they cried from what one could assume was overwhelmingness. 

“You have known great losses, some greater than one could imagine. I could nev… I could never apologize enough on the behalf of your rulers before. Truly I feel as if I should bow to you and plead on behalf of my father's sins.” Dany could feel some suspicious glaces on her face as she paused. “However, I am not my father. I am here, before you, to make a promise to you all. And that is, that you shall never suffer a fate as the one you endured until now.”

Daenerys watched the women in the crowd, they looked frail, there were some who looked as if they were holding so much hope. The men were extremely few, most mayhaps deemed too old for battle. She felt gutted, children without families, gods be good to the ones in need.

A ragged breath left her throat, “I hope that you are recovering as well as one could. If there is anything you shall need, please, we are here to assist you however we can.” Sooner than she expected, Tyrion tugged on her cape, likely trying to tell her she had said something he did not like.

Raising her palm ever so slightly, he let go, ‘We’ll talk’ , her action said.

“A common house is in the works. Soon to be finished, for those whose homes have not yet been rebuilt, take rest there. Healers will help you with any treatments you shall need.” Dany mustered her best reassuring smile, for she could never be grateful enough that House Tyrell called for Maesters from the Septs who supported their house. Few numbers, but they could work along the Dothraki healers she had trusted the past years.

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“How are you feeling, Oberyn?” Daenerys questioned as she stepped inside the resting chamber. The man was seated, as if already waiting for her.

“I cannot describe my feelings to you, your grace.” He simply said, there was no heat behind his words, it was exhaustion instead. His voice sounded rather far, as if he was thinking somewhere else, somewhere far away.

Kinvara patted his shoulder, the women communicated silently through expressions, trying to comfort him in any way.

“I understand,” Dany gave him a nod, then went on. “The pain, how is it? More bearable I hope.” 

“It is, I appreciate you asking…about it.” It was quick to understand the confusion and uneasiness he was communicating. For, coming back from the dead was something hard to understand and overcome the emotions that come alongside.

Daenerys inhaled as quietly as she could then spoke again, “Once you are well enough, we shall take you to your family.” Her eyes moved along his figure, they had not exchanged a lot through the time that he had been conscious, which was only 5 days, and throughout those 5 days he only gained his voice today.

At that, it was as if Oberyn came back to the present, “How are they? E, Ellaria, is she ali…alright? My girls, how are my girls?” Cutting himself off from asking if his lover was alive, the man's concern was soul touching, as only today he seemed to be fully present, after effects, as Kinvara explained before.

Dany gave him a small smile in reassurance, “They're alive and well.” Then she remembered, “I…uh, I am sorry about your brother. He had passed not long after you had. Ellaria spoke of his health, she said it weakened drastically after news of your passing traveled to him.” 

Oberyn said nothing. Dany knew little of their closeness or if they had any sort of good relationship, but she thought it was best to tell him, she wished to keep no unnecessary secrets from the man.

Though, when the Queen's eyes focused on his face, he was frowning, it was not subtle, but also not noticeable unless you paid attention to it.

She knew he had no reasons to trust her, he might even think she's mocking his loss. 

“I thought, in death, I would be able to see Elia.” Oberyn said more to himself, he was vulnerable.

Dany felt a pang of panic when he spoke, “You were not meant to die, that is why you could not find her.” Unconsciously, she bit her lip once his eyes found hers. “T, There is a threshold one must pass once they are deceased. Elia passed it a long time ago, however you can still feel one's presence for a long time after.”

The Dornish man took his eyes off her then. Something in the back of her thoughts made her feel he didn't think it was true. Silence filled the chamber. A heartbeat, then two, then three. “I was walking around in circles then…” He sighed.

Daenerys's mouth twitched a feeling of hopelessness grasped her heart. “Prince Oberyn, I—”

“You need not refer to me as Prince.” He interrupted her. His gaze rising to watch her once more, behind his eyes there was an emotion she could not understand. “Your grace did not use my title before, why use it now?” Oberyn questioned.

Dany blinked, in the back of her mind, she told herself to not drop his gaze. Suddenly, Kinvara's presence was itching on her skin, almost as if calling her attention to her.

Steadying her composure, she spoke. “I thought, not addressing you with your assigned title would be more comforting. I now realize that it is disrespectful. My apologies.” 

Oberyn did not falter, his gaze almost piercing through her.

“Your grace. It is time for the tonic.” The red priestess then, at last, spoke. Positioning herself between the two, stopping their clashing of stares.

Daenerys subtly furrowed her eyebrows at Kinvara, then took a small breath. “Alright,” then stepped back a few steps. “I have matters to attend to, I will be back.” Not knowing how to exactly leave the odd situation she was in, she just gave the Dornish man a nod, opening the chamber door as she did so.

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Confusion remained at the back of her mind as the day came to a close. Ignoring the aggressive flicker from any fire she passed, Daenerys attended her duties. 

Her council was relatively pleased with how the meeting with the smallfolk had gone, if you could exclude Tyrion, who had disagreed with her words and whatnot.

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“If you allow them luxury, they will keep asking for it.” He said.

“Tyrion,” In the heat of the moment she dropped his title, for he did not speak as someone who deserved it. “The smallfolk had been starving for months. Is it so hard to not have another cup of wine in order for a child to have a loaf of bread?” Her words were low but firm, she was not yelling, she did not like yelling.

‘‘It is not about that, Your Grace.” His voice was loud. “If you allow them too much, they will keep asking for more, you'll be seen as weak by every Lord in the seven kingdoms.” 

At that, Daenerys lost her only restraint. “Let them ask. They deserve to have the privilege of asking for more. The other lords can stomp their feet as much as they like, I am not here for people who had enough of my House, I already told you so. I am here for the people who are daily crushed by the consequences of the privileged.” Her eyes flickered in annoyance toward the fire which lit the room, which in response then ignited harder.

‘Why does every man I come across today, so wish to pick an argument with me?’ She wondered. Hells, even her so-called husband was beginning to get a rise out of her.

“They will challenge your claim, because as unfortunate as it is, they have the power to try and crown someone else.” Tyrion did not meet her eye. “The realm is already in the process of some extremely big changes with a Queen ruling alone; she also does not wish to take a husband. Have we forgotten your ancestors' war for the throne?” 

There it was. Daenerys pinched her neck, the skin feeling as if it was melting in between her fingers.

“Your words can be interpreted as treason. Lord Tyrion. As far as I am able to tell, you speak as if you plan to betray me, dethroning me alongside said betrayal.”

In response, Tyrion watched her, dumbfounded.

‘They will replace you, they always will come to that one way or another. Remember what R’hllor said? He believed they would mend their ways but they did not, and look where we are because of it.’ Her own voice echoed the god's words through her thoughts.

The hall seemed to start spinning.

Deep breath, count to whatever number you can think of.

If I look back, I am lost.

Not good enough?

I don't want to be his queen.

‘What is happening?’ She found herself asking, as a soft cry of cat broke throughout the thousand voices she was hearing.

Her gaze turned toward the window, where a blank cat was sitting.

The cat’s fur was as dark as the night and its neck bore a fluffy mane which was adorned with gray hairs and other black strands.

The cat had one of its ears missing, said ear seemed to either have been ripped or cut.

“Seven hells, how are you, of all things, alive?” Tyrion’s voice sounded amazed more than anything in that moment.

He walked toward the cat which then changed its calm and curious demeanor and in response hissed at the dwarf.

“It seems not to like you.” Dany muttered, more to herself.

“He did not like any of us, from all I know he couldn't stand Robert Baratheon either.” Tyrion paused, his stance wavered. He looked awfully ashamed at that moment. 

Dany frowned. “His name is Balerion. He was Princess Rhaenys's kitten. Cersei believed he brought her bad luck and Robert denied any suggestions of getting rid of it, something seemed to possess him when it was brought up. Joffrey got clawed by him, the boy tried to kill him, it seemed as if it was his life mission.” Tyrion continued.

‘Seems like you saved me, little one.’ Daenerys silently thanked the cat for interrupting.

Sighing quietly, the Queen's heels clanked toward the window, swiftly grabbing the cat and resting him close to her chest, not caring for his claws attacking her as she did so.

Regaining her thoughts and feelings. Daenerys spoke. “Why would the smallfolk be interested in who I take to bed or my marital status? From my knowledge from when I was on the run with my brother, we did not stop to wonder what the people who let us sleep in their homes for the night, did during those nights.” Unconsciously, she scratched Balerion behind his ears and he started…purring.

“My brother taught me everything I knew of my House before my mother awoke from the dead. I have knowledge of the wars that happened between kin, but need I remind you who also suffered from said dethroning? The smallfolk. The realm itself suffered one of the greatest hits in recorded history. I did my research too, and if you believe I am unfit to rule because I was generous toward the lowborn of King's Landing once, maybe you are not fit to be Hand.” Dany loosened her grasp on Balerion as she heard a roar in the distance and felt the black cat hiss, bearing its teeth at the Lannister.

Her ears were ringing. Her jaw was clenched and her feet carried her far away from the dwarf before he could bestow her an answer.

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By the time she reached her resting chamber, she could not hear her own breathing.

Daenerys did not notice that Balerion jumped onto her bed as soon as the door opened, for she did notice he was not in her arms at all.

The queen's mind was a mess, her breathing was ragged and her skin seemed to be melting.

‘My flame, what has come over you? Since the morning's light, you have been unresponsive to each of my attempts to speak with you.’ 

The god's embodiment made its presence known as the chamber began to glow with a warm orange light.

Dany could not think, her blood started to boil in her veins, everything became too much, her own emotions felt like they were overlapping each other.

“Go, R’hllor.” She choked out, holding onto a table near the chamber's window with all her might. Sweat beads broke from her face, falling on the wood.

‘What troubles you? Why do you turn away from my fire and my aid once more? Speak now, that I might grasp your troubles.’ 

Anger blossomed in her chest, the weight of the day resting on her shoulders alongside the panic and pain she was experiencing in that moment.

“Must you underestimate me?!” With that she turned furiously toward him, lashing her feelings toward the first one that came before her. “Kinvara, today, she underestimated me. She tried to step in a situation I could control. I cannot have you shield me as if I am a mere babe who does not have a mind of her own! She used her magic to try and grasp my attention, that is underestimating me. Forcing me to depend on others.” Her voice was booming throughout the room, the queen's heart beat increasing a great deal. “Tyrion speaks of me being dethroned already because I chose to be kind toward the people who need it. I am seen as weak because of what?! Can I truly not escape my doom? Must everyone underestimate my decisions and choices?” Daenerys’s hand rested on her forehead as her voice fell hoarse once her yelling came to an end in that moment.

Her anger did not seem to falter even as she felt his warmth circle her. “You! You, of all people — things — gods, damnit! I thought you had faith in me, and that is why you kept bringing me back! I thought that was why you decided to show yourself to me and seven hells, love me!” The silver haired woman's chest hurt a great deal, where was this anger even built up from? She believed herself to be stable. 

What had even triggered it? Was it the doubt? Was it the undermining? 

Was this how Viserys felt? 

Daenerys bit her lip and thought of her brother throughout the waves of emotion.

‘I want my brother.’ said her younger voice.

Gods she wished for someone who could understand what she was feeling and the only person she could even think of was her mad brother.

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Chapter Text

A young version of Viserys appeared before her.

Dany's lips trembled.

“Sister.” Was the first thing he said.

This version of Viserys was the boy who read to her until she fell asleep during cold nights. The boy who so kindly let her sleep in his bed because she was afraid.

Gods, he sounded so young too.

“Dany, what's wrong?” He stepped forward, his figure’s outline becoming blurred.

A tear ran down Daenerys's cheek. She felt so hopeless and tired. Was it wrong to wish for a moment that she was back when it was just him and her? Was it wrong she wanted that familiar feeling back? To simpler times, tragic as they were.

“Stop, R’hllor.” Daenerys's voice sounded haunting as she spoke. 

The boy before her looked almost hurt.

“I am not who you're addressing me as, Dany.” Viserys’s voice changed, almost as if he was forcing it to sound gentler.

“I said, stop it!” And so her only remaining strength gave out, her knees meeting the stone floor with a thud.

However, the presence she felt near was not R’hllor’s. For it was colder, more…human.

She heard shuffling, which made her gaze raise ever so little.

Viserys met her eyes. He was trying to find some position to sit rightfully in.

He opened his mouth a couple of times but failed to make a sound.

At last, words seemed to appear on his tongue as his eyes stopped wandering off her eyes every few heartbeats. “I thought, if I came before you as a version of myself which you loved, it would've been easier. I'm sorry.” 

More tears fell down her sweaty skin, fixing her posture, she hugged her knees close to her chest as she remembered doing when she was little. “You're not real. Viserys would have never apologised to me.” 

The Viserys before her made a pained expression, his eyes looked filled with what seemed like regret.

His arms raised, and were Daenerys still on her fourteenth name day, she would've flinched, but she's older and he's not real.

However her eyes traced the outline of his raised arms. His fingers were twitching and they were hesitating to reach.

Her brother closed his eyes, for a moment they were tightly closed and a wet sniff escaped him.

“I really cannot tell if you're afraid to touch or hit me right now.” She offhandedly remarked.

That awakened him and he quickly came to embrace her. Their position was awkward, as he was still taller than she, even on his knees.

Suddenly she felt his face grow wet. Never in her life had her heart felt such confusion.

Viserys quietly sobbed onto her hair as his arms held her form tightly. 

The queen's eyes burned, she wished for tears, for her vision grew blurry and her head was starting to ache.

“Dany. Oh, Dany.” And never did she think she would miss her nickname being spoken. His voice rang her name with such affection that she could not remember before.

Viserys somehow hugged her tighter to his chest, awkwardly but quickly, his arm shifted under hers. The position felt a little more comfortable as now she was relatively leaning on him as her arm was over his.

Then it…clicked, her brother was slowly rocking them back and forth, he used to do so during harsh storms when the thunder was most strong and she felt most frightened.

But this time, she was not sure whether he was comforting her or himself, or both.

“My sister. Look how far you'd come.” Viserys whispered as the tears seemed to thin themselves on her shoulder.

Stuck between emotions, Daenerys could not figure out how she wished to react.

“I am sorry. I am so sorry, Dany.” He whispered his apologies as if they were the only thing keeping him whole. “I could never ask your forgiveness, I am not fit for it.” He added as a harsh sob left his throat.

The Queen's mouth began to tremble as her head began to shake in denial. “No, I can't do this.” She whispered as her heart was breaking in two. “I can't continue having fantasies of people who are no longer with me. I can't daydream about a brother I had let my late husband murder.” For a brief moment, her subconscious seemed to remember that she had more strength than his supposed ghost.

“Dany! No, please, I am here.” He begged his sister to do something, something neither of them knew what it was. But he begged for it, he pleaded with his sister to do the unknown, and that, he thought, would make her believe.

But Daenerys's training had given her an advantage as she quickly managed to escape the warmth. Her head was pounding as if it was her time to pass the threshold.

“Daenerys, I beg you, do not think of me so cruel that I would… I would… trick you? I truly don't know what you think I'm doing but I am not. Sister please.” The floor made a creaking sound as he got up from his previous sitting position with struggle. How would a ghost make noise?

Dany's breath felt uneven and not enough, his presence was overwhelming her to the very core. “I don't know what you would have been capable of doing or not. I grew to both hate and love you all the same.” 

Harshly, he grabbed her attention by holding her arms in place as they were fidgeting as her words were leaving her mouth. “Daenerys, I understand what you feel, truly, I could not have imagined myself turning mad when I was still in King's Landing. I cannot wish for your understanding because I don't even know what went wrong with me.”

“Oh, but I do, I understand you somewhat because I am here due to my own failures.” 

“No, Dany, you are here because of your achievements.” Viserys interrupted her.

“You know, hearing you praise me is something so surreal it makes me sick.” Tiredness grasped her voice as a sigh followed her words.

“What happened?” He changes the topic with little trouble, though his frowny face turned sadder.

Words seemed stuck in her throat and her anger seemed to falter in place for just a moment. Should she speak? Should she share her troubles? Should she confide in him? 

“I.” The Queen's eyes watched the floor for a couple of heartbeats. 

Wind from the outside hit the chamber windows, making the glass clank in protest.

“I unfortunately began to understand how it feels when everyone doubts you.” She at last spoke. “I began to put myself in your place more than I'd like to admit. I started to see doubts from my council, from the people I thought believed in me the most.” 

Viserys seemed troubled as outside, a thunder was heard. “I do not think everyone doubts you, Dany. You made it here on your own before, without this god of yours.” He says, “Losing your way does not mean that you bear sanity no more. I believe you doubt yourself more than anyone close to you, doubts you.” His violet eyes bore the sadness of the world ever since he appeared before her.

Daenerys froze for a quiet moment, “What makes you say that?”

“As mother said to you before, we have watched you throughout your lives. Ever since this one started, sweet sister, you have been making storms of your mind more than Dragonstone bears rain.” Viserys inhaled and exhaled quietly.

“Alright, let's say that is true, it gives no one the right to force me to depend on them. It doesn't give people the right to doubt me for doing something good.” She defended herself.

“And I never said otherwise, Dany. However I am not exactly talking about today, I'm talking overall, you've been cautious in order to not fall back on whatever pushed you before. You might have not noticed but you blame yourself more than you blame the actual people responsible for your downfall.” Her brother countered.

A small ‘oh’, left her lips. Her brows drew a crease between them. 

“I believe that what happened today pushed your hidden worries to come to light and all your issues that you tried to not pay attention to, have risen from being built up.” His palm very gently rested on her cheek as she watched him with her guard up and steady. “Truly I don't condemn you for anything.”

“I do blame myself more than I put the blame on others because I am used to being alone, my last memories of the lives I lived are of me being alone. I can't comprehend the fact that I am not and I do not think I will ever be able to fully trust that fact.” Her throat felt a little stuck. “I do not know what I should call this, but it will always be in the back of my mind, no matter how hard I try to push it away. I had no family after you were gone, and even while you were there for a while. I had no one who could even begin to comprehend what I might experience. I feel flawed, because I can't trust enough. I feel flawed that people around me feel the need to take control over situations I have the upper hand in. It makes me feel weak, and useless. Like a puppet.” 

Viserys listened quietly, though his thumb brushed over her cheek a few times as she talked. Somewhat, Dany could have sworn she felt somewhat lighter.

“I thought I could fix them.” She said in a more disappointed tone. “I thought I could…change Tyrion, Varys, T…The Starks? I thought I was able to…perhaps prove myself to them? I don't know when I started hoping for that. But it seems I could not. Mayhaps it was a pride thing. Maybe it was my pride that kept trying to show the people that I am capable, that I am worthy. Though they are not my people, I felt the need to show them that they were wrong.” A small cough left her throat then.

“Is that why Tyrion still wears that pin you personally had made for him, with such flamboyancy? He clearly thinks of himself above your word for he still, in his mind, has power. The Hand is… akin to keys to a door. Call it, keys to the realm, if that makes sense. I don't think I ever took the time to explain such terms to you fully. I take the blame for the lack of knowledge in such titles.” The silver haired man sighed, his violet eyes disappearing underneath his eyelids as he closed them in frustration.

“Do not think of me foolish, Viserys. Dead as you might be, I had learned to take care of myself. I had done my research as far as I could, and bless Rhaenyra Targaryen’s soul for she taught me with no issue and still does. This was my naivety leading me to believe I had the power to change man's mind. I now know, brother, that I cannot change some people, for they chose their own demise.” Daenerys scoffed. 

“So what hurts your heart so cruelly? What haunts your sleep and makes you spill rivers of tears? What stains your confidence with shadows of doubt that cloud your judgement?” The dead man asks with worry in his voice.

Dany's eyes flickered back and forth around the room. Her thoughts began to travel through the memories, almost as if trying to grasp all the worries she ever bore.

“I just.” Not feeling satisfied with her opening, she tried again. “What if.” She paused. “What if, with all this help, with all this trust most have put on me, I will once again fall. What if my destiny will never change and I will fall in a tragic dance with my madness once again?” Dany looked into his haunting eyes then.

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Chapter Text

TYRION

Tyrion wished for sun.

King's Landing does not bear cold weather often. But that day, the clouds were dark and the gods were bestowing rain upon the land.

But Tyrion wished for sun, for the rather depressing rain was worsening his mood.

With a goblet of wine in his hand, he drank his sorrows. 

The dwarf sat by a rather larger window of the Keep. His eyes tracing the water droplets on the glass.

His dark red coat looked empty, felt too light.

A pin was supposed to sit on his right breast. A silver hand pin with gold accents that now was not in his grasp anymore.

Tyrion had been coldly dismissed. An utter sense of disappointment overflew his veins alongside the fifth goblet of wine he was sipping on.

It was a firm looking pin, but nice to the eye. The dwarf liked it.

It was made for him after all.

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DAENERYS

Daenerys wore white. A beautiful white gown her handmaidens and Missandei picked for her.

It was the first time in what seemed like thousands of moons, that she did not wear her House colors or any darker color.

Dany wore white, because white can be tainted as it goes. So in order to signify her new beginning, the young Queen wore a new canvas that can build color over time.

The young Queen was never one for metaphors. She did not often believe in words that were not blunt, but she decided to make the day special.

The rain building outside soothed her thoughts, it reminded her of Dragonstone. 

Dany thought long and hard about the throne. She bestowed a rather odd question to Rhaenyra in the one of the night's she was being taught.

“What would The Conquerors think of me burning their throne? Or rather what did they think, seeing it destroyed over and over again?” She questioned, though not meeting the listener's eyes. They were walking through King's Landing, just after visiting the once glorious dragon pit.

Silence fell over the conversation, the warm wind grasping strands of her silver hair as they walked, and her heels thumped with the heaviness of her words.

“I am sure you're expecting me to say they were disappointed or that Aegon could not bear to look at his and his sisters’ creation be destroyed. But I can assure you that you would be wrong. You see, little moon, they knew that the iron seat would be destroyed one way or another, unfortunately the three considered the option of it not lasting forever. No more swords were added and no one knew how the future would play out. I think if it were for it to be destroyed once more, for the second beginning of our dynasty, they would not mind.” Rhaenyra handed her reassurance on a silver plate.

At that, Dany froze in her tracks. “How did you know…?” She could not finish her sentence, for Rhaenyra's soft smile stunned her.

“You don't like how it makes you feel superior to the people you care about, and the smallfolk. One could assume, even if they were not spiritual beings who watch over you, that you want to get rid of it. I can't say that I would enjoy that idea, for it has been in our family for generations, but we all understand that you do not share some of our values.” The older woman spoke with no disappointment in her voice; however, the tone of understanding covered the sound.

“I… I'm sorry.” Dany hurriedly replied.

“Do not be, I could not see myself in your position, little moon. So I can't fathom how you feel. But it's your reign, your throne, it's your decision. However I think we should keep the idea of the throne not being comfortable to sit on. You know, that was one of the main reasons it was forged. Unfortunately some met their ends because of it.” Rhaenyra pointed to her palms which bore some scars that seemed long healed, though the marks remained. “I gripped it too hard. I believe if it wasn't for the amount of feelings I bore at that time, I would have wept in pain. It almost pierced through my hand.” 

Daenerys twirled before the big mirror her chamber provided.

It felt freeing to see the long material spin, to see herself in such gowns. Daenerys felt pride bubble in her chest and butterflies filled her stomach as if she were in love.

“I look beautiful.” She praises her reflection then she squints her eyes at the mirror. Dany sees the little girl that appeared in her dreams long ago, and she's grinning, she's grinning and tears streaming down her puffy cheeks.

Her hair might be blending with the whiteness, but today she was lifting some chains that she bore for a long time and she couldn't care less about color schemes.

 

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“Tyrion Lannister.” Daenerys addressed the man who sat uneasily in the council chamber.

Many eyes fell on her then, only for a short moment.

“Your grace…” He begins with uncertainty, not guilt.

“I have given you more chances than anyone else in my court. Your betrayal, schemes, and threats have at last reached a point where I cannot bear to look at you.” Her violet eyes bore into his, it was a clash of gazes.

Tyrion froze for a moment. The unknown emotion his eyes bore, quickly changed to frustration. “Betrayal? I’ve done nothing but serve your cause, often in spite of you.”

“You call it betrayal, but I call it ruling. I only ever showed you that not everything will go your way. I was in this court long before you could form words. I did what had to be done. If you cannot see that, then perhaps you never deserved my loyalty.” The dwarf spoke with what seemed like almost pride. 

At last, his true intentions seemed to rise as the facade of the pitiful man shunned by his family, fell to crumbs once confronted.

The young queen’s voice fell firm and detached, for she had long begun to understand that he did not see her as a good ruler. Through the long conversations she had with her brother, he advised her to speak with Lady Olenna, who then guided her to see what her dear Hand had been like in King's Landing.

Tyrion played his cards well in her memories. His mask only slipped the moment they set foot in Winterfell.

Never would she have imagined he'd crack so easily though.

“You speak of loyalty as if you understand it, as if it were a convenience you could twist to fit your desires. Every move you made behind my back, every whisper, was not for my cause, not for the good of the people, but for yourself. You surely enjoyed having all the power one could have without the title of royalty.” Her gaze dropped then, her eyes closed as a deep chuckle escaped her throat. “You fail to comprehend, my Lord, that I do not need you then, and you have proved that I do not need you now.” 

“You think those sitting here, nodding at your every word, will save you?” Tyrion shouted, anger pouring through his voice. The overwhelming smell of alcohol filled the room. 

‘Heavens.’ Dany thought as her eyes snapped open, her eyebrows furrowed in dismay. ‘He had not sobered up one bit.’ 

The Queen heard swords be unsheathed. Lady Olenna’s grandsons sat behind their grandmother, clearly having taken offence in the dwarf’s insults toward their family.

Daario unnoticeably moved closer to her as Ser Jorah laid a hand on Grey Worm to stop him from doing anything impulsive.

The tension in the chamber was thick and the Lannister’s words rang through the silence. 

“You forget your place. You’ve always thought yourself above it.” Daenerys spoke with no compassion. “You forget that while you might have been the Hand, I am the Queen.” 

Straightening her position, she continued, “I am the Queen because I gods damn earned the title. I am the Queen because I care about and love my people, I am the Queen because I want the best for the unfortunate. I am the fucking Queen because I want to stop people such are yourself from being in positions of power, ever again.” Dany frowned, “I regret ever having enough faith to put you in that position in the first place.” 

“My Lord, you seem to believe you'd get away with insulting Houses as you please.” Arianne Martell had spoken then. She had her hand on Ellaria’s, just as Ser Jorah, she was preventing her aunt from being impulsive. “I, and I think I speak for everyone in this council, feel appalled that you speak such vile words with no care in the world. You also reek of whatever alcohol you indulge yourself with, has your House truly ran out of shame once your Lord father passed?” A venomous tone slipped through the cracks as she addressed the Lannisters.

“You think the realm will bend to your ideals? To your whims? This world is not kind to change! And— You think these lords respect you because of your heart or goodwill? Well—” Tyrion was only addressing the Queen, perhaps not able to understand anything else but her voice.

“Enough!” Daenerys struck the table hard enough that it shook, her voice shouted with controlled anger. The rings and jewelry her hand bore clinked in protest.

“You are dismissed, as my Hand. You will be accompanied by the Unsullied to grab whatever stuff of value you might have in your chambers. Dare go against my word and you will wish for the mercy you condemned me for. You will leave in two day's time. I believe leaving alive after the spectacle you just made of yourself is enough of a farewell gift— Daario, take him.” With a quick order, her concubine signed to Ser Jorah to let the Unsullied commander go.

Grey Worm ripped the hand pin from the Lannister’s coat and grabbed his tiny arms with a firm grip as Daario walked behind his back. Lowering himself, the bearded man tied the dwarf with a tight rope.

“You think you can just cast me aside!? You’ll regret this. Mark my words, Your Grace, the realm will regret it!” Drunken shouts furiously protested against the measures taken against him physically.

With a quick pull, he was taken from his seat. “This council will turn on you eventually. They’ll see the truth!” He shouted in the void as cold stares met his crazed eyes.

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The council meeting ended some time after, Daenerys offered her sincere apologies for the insults and degrading her court had to endure.

Rain droplets hit the castle's windows angrily. A storm seemed to be approaching and Dany was feeling her children’s changing of emotions. Something might be the matter as she was unsure what her little ones could be trying to communicate to her.

Her mother was walking quickly next to her, her own bond with Viserion was making her worry for the she-dragon.

“Could it be the storm?” Rhaella voiced her concerns as the women's heels clanked on the stone floors as they were rushing to the dragon pit. 

At a small distance, five Dothraki followed the two in order to protect them. 

Dany pondered for a moment as she ran faster, “They never had issues with storms before.” 

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Drogon was circling the dragon pit as the women entered it.

His siblings were on the ground under a part of the pit which had a roof still.

Rhaegal was protectively guarding Viserion behind him, though when his eyes met the silver Queen, he visibly let his guard down.

The golden dragon raised her head from her wing, shaking it before extending her neck toward the Targaryen women. 

“My girl!” Dany rushed to embrace her daughter's head. 

As soon as her arms reached the golden dragon, Viserion affectionately rubbed her snout against the Queen. 

Rhaella approached Viserion’s wings, with a swift look at Rhaegal, she slowly knelt on the ground.

As her knees reached the hard stone, the she-dragon moved her wing away from sight, letting what she was protecting be visible.

The once Queen reached in the nest with little care of the mess it was making on her sleeved dress. She did not know what she was searching for until her fingers reached a slick object that felt incredibly warm.

Getting some mud out of the way, her thoughts were proven true. “Oh my goodness…” Rhaella gasped.

“What—” Daenerys's words ran to a halt as her eyes widened. 

“Eggs! Oh, Dany, she laid eggs!” 

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Chapter Text

TYRION

The rope was tight and his wrists grew red as he was being dragged down the halls of the Keep.

His mind slurring between thoughts and words, the wine tasted bitter on his tongue as he wished he had not tasted the damned thing at all.

The two days he was given passed in a blur just as the current day. One would think drinking almost daily throughout his life would prevent him from experiencing any sort of side effects or drunkenness at all.

But the gods were not on his side, they had seemingly long given up hope for him.

With a hard tug of the rope holding him, Tyrion was brought back to the present.

One of the Queen's blood riders watched him with a darkened expression, one the dwarf's drunken mind could not name.

“What?” Tyrion scoffed. He was frustrated, not sure at who, or why, he desperately needed someone to direct his frustration to.

But the Dothraki warrior did not honour him with a reply, whether it was because he couldn't understand the question or he just refused to acknowledge the little man, his watchful eye quickly looked behind the dwarf as heavy footsteps came closer to the small group of men.

Turning around, the dwarf felt dizzy, but still looked to see who was the man bestowing a shadow upon him.

“You surely did not think you'd leave this place untouched, did you, imp?” The Queen's lover said, his long hair falling on his face as he looked down.

Many replies ran through the dwarf's head then, many which he, even in his current state, knew would get him beaten, so Tyrion decided the best thing to do was to be quiet.

Daario raised his eyebrow in suspicion, it was as if he was digging through the dwarf's head.

“You sure played your cards right, I gotta' admit, you might've convinced the Queen to leave me in Mereen, were you a smarter man. But that failure is going to cost you. I waited for the moment your holier-than-thou attitude would fall, and of course it did.” A rather sinister grin grew on the man's face. “You see, when you were my Queen's Hand, you had immunity. But now? Now you are no more than a penniless lord with nothing but an empty castle.” Then Daario knelt to his level.

“That castle is worth more than whatever whore house you came from.” Was the wittiest response his mind could come with.

“My, you sure know how to make a spectacle of yourself. I wonder when you will realise that the sky had fallen down upon you a long time ago. It might've just started the moment you set foot in Mereen.” Tyrion’s comment did not affect the ever growing grin the long haired man bore.

Just then, a dagger appeared on sight. Shiny, that thing was. The sunlight reflected on it. It bore a beauty to it, one unseen in any metal Tyrion had seen. 

Daario spoke in Dothraki then, words the dwarf could not make up, but his heart picked up a concerning speed as one of the blood riders handed the mercenary a torch.

It was unreal. Tyrion could've sworn the fire was drawing itself closer to him, his body heating up rapidly.

The mercenary rested his dagger above the fire, slowly descending it inside the flames until he decided it was heated enough.

Only then, Tyrion realised his body disobeyed him as his throat only then had gone noticeably dry.

“No amount of screaming can help you.” Was the only thing Daario had said to him.

When did he begin to scream?

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DAENERYS 

The young queen's mind was something akin to the day she was born. A storm of thoughts, plans and events were clashing on in another.

Her coronation was on the tip of her council’s tongue, though she knew her reasons for not wanting to have one yet were unreasonable to any person who did not know what Daenerys was waiting to happen.

‘The Night King’ began to sound foreign to her own ears, mayhaps everything that had happened in the last few moons was pushing that subject down everyone's minds, even her called husband and dear Kinvara.

Her violet eyes glanced at her candle. The flames seemed to be swooning the moment her stare laid upon them.

Dany's emotions fired up then, she had not had a conversation with the god for half a moon's turn. She did not seek the warmth, and the flames did everything they could to reach her.

A tired sigh escaped her throat then, she could not put the needed conversation to the side for much longer.

“You know, for a being that's as powerful as you, you surely cannot get the shape of my favourite flowers right.” Was the first thing the young woman had said. 

To that, the flames grew in protest, or embarrassment, truly the way they acted could be a response to either.

“So, you are not going to take your actual form because you are… angry?” She tried to guess, only for the fire to shake, as a ‘no.’

“Disappointed?”, same response.

“Upset?”, same response, but with a little hesitation.

Dany pondered. Her eyes squinted to the light in annoyance. 

“Hm,” She bit the inside of her cheek as her mind fell in thought. 

“Embarrassed?” Daenerys questioned again. And to that the flames did not shake in disapproval, but remained still, as if it were an ordinary candle light. 

‘Who knew I could influence a spiritual being to feel… embarrassment?’ The Queen wondered. 

“Alright, ashamed. You feel ashamed.” She realised. “Gods above, I might actually be able to be near you without feeling a sense of undeniable anger.” A small smile placed itself on her lips, a tease. She was holding a grudge that she did not want to necessarily let go of.

He better thank her children for her subdued anger toward him.

Ever since Viserion had given her eggs, Daenerys could not deny she felt more at ease than she had ever before. Drogon did not fly on his own for a long amount of time and Rhaegal was behaving, at least a part of her worries have been on the lower side.

Just as the muscle and thoughts in her began to succumb to the weight of the day, three knocks echoed through her bed chamber, as the big decorated door was hit with a firmness she only knew a certain man possessed.

Four heart beats had passed by the time she reached the door handle and once the door was opened, they were at six.

“Lord Eddard. What brought you here this late?” Daenerys questioned the northerner, as they have been in this scenario before, though that image seemed so distant and clouded by now.

“Your Grace,” he looked lost, as lost as when he first set his sights on her.

“Come in, take a seat.” She moved herself from his way so he could walk in freely.

Was it improper? How could she even know? Such boundaries were not common with her since she was a girl. Her boundaries were much different from what she saw in the people of Westeros, in both her memories and the present. But if it were inappropriate, he would not have walked himself here, with a dimming candle.

“I heard you made a full recovery, my Lord. I am glad to hear the time you have spent with me hasn't been in vain.” She offered an opening.

“Aye, though I should not have been surprised that it took a great amount of time. Coming back from the dead… and all.” The older man accepted the opening. “Your Grace, what are your plans for me? You have achieved what you asked my guidance for, and I do believe I've been set aside ever since. I wish to know what to expect.” 

He was right, and Dany unfortunately knew. He had helped her just as R’hllor intended, but where he stands has been a chaos to think of.

“My lord, I shall speak freely and address you casually. It is a private matter after all.” As soon as the man nodded with hesitation, she started speaking again.

“Eddard—”, “Wait.” And so she paused in confusion. 

“I thought you would call me ‘Ned’. Before coming to you, almost no one used ‘Eddard’, it is what I'm most known by, I am rather confused as to why you had not picked on that as well, Your Grace.” The Lord of Winterfell said.

“Formality. I believe one calls one by such nicknames by the status of their relationships, is that not right?” Daenerys pondered.

“Well, aye. However I do not believe I have any meaningful relations to most of the people who addressed me as such. If you see it fit, mayhaps you could use it as well. I believe I have gotten unused to hearing my own name.” Ned said.

Daenerys could do nothing but stare blankly at the man. ‘Could this be a side effect? I would honour it if it were a wish, but just what…’

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Click

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“... Ned.” Dany said then. “Does it make you feel… some sort of nostalgia when you're referred to with that name?” 

The older man met her eye then, his mouth fell slightly open, he was thinking of how to answer.

“Aye.” The northerner responded.

“Forgive me, if this is improper of me to ask or if I am intruding in any way, but is there a specific reason you want me to do this?” Her violet eyes glanced toward his face with what she hoped was a softened expression. Mayhaps she already knew the answer.

Ned sighed heavily, “You… remind me of my daughter. I had two daughters, I don't know if you were aware of this already, but my oldest — Sansa, was about the age you were when you wed your late husband. Only younger by a few years… It's a confusing matter but when I lock my sight on you, I see my girl, and I pretend she would be something like you, were she still alive at your current age. I believe it is extremely improper of me to bluntly say this but I see her in you. It brings me an odd sense of familiarity. And I just…” 

Tic, tac.

“Alright. I am sure this was not pleasant to admit. I'll honour your request, Ned Stark.” Then, she decided to move back to the original subject.

“To be blunt with you as well, I would have been pleased if you remained by my side temporarily. As I am sure you can tell by the whispers running around the city, I have no Hand, I am yet to be crowned and I am to rule as a woman, first one to do as such ever since my great-great grandmother. It'd bring me some ease if I were to be backed by familiar faces, because you've been some sort of advisor for me for almost two years.” Deep breath, “But I know your history with my House is nowhere near alright, and I am now going to speak on behalf of my name as a Targaryen. I am so sorry about the tragedies which my father and brother had brought to your family. I could never be able to apologise or express my anger and sadness enough for what they had done. And I also know you did not enjoy your time as Hand in King's Landing altogether. So I shall not burden you, but I'd like for you to stay in King's Landing until we call for the head of each major House for the coronation, since you would be the head of yours. Afterwards, I shall ensure you a safe journey to Winterfell, and take care of any inconvenience which may occur.”

Ned sat in silence as he let everything sink in. “You would do that for me?” He questioned.

Daenerys nodded, “Yes. I pulled some strings, as of now I believe Winterfell is safe from the chaos it had fallen into. There are some of my people who are smuggling food to the people until everything is fully at peace, the wars have affected the people greatly. I am in contact with Lady Cerwyn, she and her House are currently working on getting the smallfolk back in health. However, I dare to ask a question about the future. There were whispers of your House seeking independence, or well, The North as a whole. Once you're back home, are you to declare for independence? I would grant it, as I promised the Greyjoys were they to not take my offer of alliance. But I believe it is not wise.” A small flash of the daughter of the very man before her, asking for independence, had appeared forth in her mind as she spoke.

A young girl who suffered greatly. A girl who was a victim of the actions of the people around her. That is how she perceived the red haired woman she met back in her memories. There was a facade of not caring and coldness, and she wore it like armour. Daenerys could not hate her any longer, for they shared an unfortunately similar fate. With no family, who was there to help her understand. Surely the once Queen regent did not take it upon herself to share knowledge.

A look of great confusion rested on the Lord's face. “Independence? Your Grace, you just informed me of the state of my people, who in their right mind would ask for such things when their folks are starving? My House had no intention of declaring independence under your father, why should we complicate it for ourselves, when we are in need of assistance. The North bears horrid, long winters, and winter is coming. There is no time for more wars, especially when the men are exhausted and the women have no shelter.”

The young Queen felt as if she was struck in the face. “I… see. Then, Ned, I will do everything in my ability to help your people.” A weight weirdly fell off her shoulders.

“I will stay, my Queen.” Ned suddenly recalled her previous words. A firmness rested in his voice, as if he was paying a debt. “And… Thank you. On behalf of my family and The North.” but just as quickly as the air seemed to ease around them, he became rigid again.

Dany's eyes traced him quickly, checking for any pain or something along those lines, but before she could question if he needed help, the man spoke again.

“I too, am sorry. For what happened to your good sister, to your niece and nephew.” The northerner said in a guilty tone. “I had no… knowledge of what the Lannisters were planning on doing, and it was my responsibility to know. I felt a guilt in my being ever since I was informed of the fate they met. It was unnecessary and brutal. It is… part of why I was so adamant on trying to stop Robert from killing you and your brother.” 

A sadness fell on her heart, sudden, just as the words he had laid before her. “The realm failed Elia as a whole.” She responded.

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JONELLE

As Lady of House Cerwyn, Jonelle had endured great losses.

Being the only member left of her family, she bore responsibilities that went far beyond the knowledge she had. It was inevitable, but she always did whatever she deemed good for her House and the people of the North.

Protecting the North was in her veins, even through the hard decisions of following the Boltons, in hopes they'd not fully dig the land in the ground.

But one gods given day, the Boltons were no more. Ramsay, who was the only one left standing of his damned Household, was brutally killed as he was walking outside of the walls of Winterfell.  

It was a horrid scene, and a humiliating death. Everything after that point onward had moven in a blur.

A raven came from King's Landing, signed by the soon-to-be crowned Daenerys Targaryen.

Shock overtook her body once she saw the sigil and name that were written in dark ink at the bottom of the letter. But that quickly passed as she was forcefully made to face reality once some of the soon-to-be queen's men began to appear at her castle's entrance, providing food, clothes, and any necessities the people of The North could need.

Jonelle was no fool, so she quickly got everything in order so she could travel to Winterfell to set the orders she was given in action.

Against the old Northenmen left behind from the wars, she stood little chance of achieving everything without the need to hide the help she was receiving. So she did not let them know what she was working on, and she was sure they would not quickly notice the change in the smallfolk, as The North had fallen in its deepest pit of prejudice it had in centuries.

With no Lord on the seat, there was no one left to humble and rule the so-called Lords of Winterfell.

Jonelle was no fool, she began to speculate in her own time that the soon-to-be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, might have had a hand in the murder of the last standing member of House Bolton. But she would never voice that thought, because if anything, it ridden Winterfell of a tyrant. And Lady Cerwyn is no saint to condemn the ways used.

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