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                  Daenerys I

305 AC

Daenerys died. In the throne room, in front of her hard-won Iron Throne. Her family’s legacy. She was stabbed in the heart. Or, at least, she thought it was the heart. That’s where she felt it. When the man you have feelings for kills you, you’d feel the heart get stabbed, even if the method he used to kill you was different. 

After Jon killed her, she only saw white. She knew she died, and she was mad about it. She loved Jon, and he killed her. His Aunt, his lover, his queen. He was a kinslayer, a queenslayer and an oathbreaker, and she would execute him on the spot if she didn’t die. 

But she did die…

Or did she? She swore she actually… felt something. And you are not supposed to feel anything after dying. Or at least, that is what she was told. But she felt… cold. 

Dying really feels like laying in the cold snow, huh… She thought as she waited to drift to whatever came after the feeling of snow all over her. But the feeling didn’t pass. She tried to figure out what was happening to her, but to no avail. 

She then tried to open her eyes, which, to her surprise… worked. 

Even more surprising, the feeling of the coldness and the snow came from the snow she was laying on. She was still herself. She was just laying down in the snow. She rose up and started looking around. Where she was wasn’t her least expected place to wake up in, but she didn’t expect her afterlife to be Winterfell’s Godswood.

But it looked different from the last time she saw it, after the others’ defeat in Winterfell. It looked different even than how it was before. It was more… complete.

I’m sure I died, but… what am I doing here? And why is it different from how I remember it? Maybe… Maybe I didn’t die? But if so, why would I be laying belly-down in Winterfell’s Godswood?

She wandered the Godswood, seeking any sort of answer, but found only that the Godswood she was currently in was not the one she was in when she last left Winterfell. 

When she saw the heart tree, she was even more confused than before. Two people were talking beneath the tree. She recognised both of them, even if she only knew one.

Bran Stark, younger and without a wheelchair, was talking with a man who could only have been Eddard Stark. She saw that they were talking with each other, although she could not hear what they were saying. It was as if their lips moved without a sound coming out.

“They aren’t real,” A voice she recognised came from behind. She looked back to see Bran Stark, the one she knew, walking without a wheelchair and with a focused look on his face, not the distant gaze she always saw him with. “They are just a memory.”

He was a Stark. Just like Jon. She felt the anger rising. She wanted to command Drogon to burn him until only ashes remain of him.

“Let’s go for a walk.” He said calmly. 

She looked around, but her dragon wasn’t in sight. “Fine.” She said begrudgingly.

He examined her face. “You seem to be angry at something,” he pointed. 

“Are you surprised? Aren’t you supposed to be all-knowing? If someone were to die, the least they can do is be angry about it.” she said. “And just to twist the knife even more, it was Jon who killed me.”

“I thought you would be thankful,” he said.

Daenerys couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Thankful? Thankful? For what? For taking away my lifelong goal when I’m just on the cusp of success? For the man I love stabbing me right in the heart?” She replied, looking at him with contempt in her eyes.

The scene around them shifted. She only saw this place from… somewhere she couldn’t quite remember, but she knew that she was in King’s Landing. 

But the city wasn’t peaceful or quiet. Far from it. She heard a familiar noise. Drogon. She recognized her Dragon. He was in the air above the city, and… he was…

She heard screams. She heard the bells ringing. She saw the mad queen riding her dragon and burning King’s Landing. She saw herself killing hundreds of thousands of innocent men, women and children. 

She looked back at herself. She looked back at what happened. It was as if she snapped out of a trans. She fell to the ground, the sounds of death, screams and herself, doing… this was all around her. 

She thought to that moment in the throne room. Jon killed her. After she burned King’s Landing. She tried to picture what was going on in that moment. She had a victory in her hands. She won the fight for King’s Landing, but… She just kept going. She went mad and unleashed dragonfire on all the civilians. It was no wonder Jon killed her. Who knows how many people would die in her fire next. She knew her father wanted to burn the city to the ground. She was worse. She actually did that.

“He was also hurt by that stab. By that whole day.” Bran’s voice was clear, even amidst the voices of the battle.

Daenerys loved Jon. She knew he loved her. She couldn’t imagine him doing what she did. 

Before the battle… Did he think I was capable of this? She didn’t know if it hurt more to see the monster she became or to kill her with his own hands.

Daenerys stood up. She was shaking, but she held herself high as she turned to face Bran.

“What am I doing here? If your goal was to shake me up before I pass on, or to see me react to the suffering I swore to destroy being delivered by my hand, then you have accomplished that.” she said. She tried taking a deep breath, but the sounds of the battle, the sight of the burning city, everything around her made it impossible to focus.

The scene shifted again, and they were back in the Godswood. The Godswood from before the sack of Winterfell. She realized.

“I didn’t bring you here for you to suffer, although it was an inevitable consequence of seeing your actions.” He said. “You were on the right track, but… you went mad. Do you want to be remembered as ‘the mad queen’? Do you want to keep this death and destruction as your legacy?” he asked her.

The answer in her mind just blurted out of her mouth on instinct. “Of course not!”

A small smile formed on Bran’s face. “I brought you here as one final act of defiance.”

She looked at him, puzzled. “Defiance?”

“The Three-Eyed Raven,” he said. “He took over me. It wasn’t fully, but I wasn’t able to control my actions anymore. No more than you were.”

Daenerys’s eyes opened in surprise. 

“My father, mother and brothers all died. I lost the use of my legs, I lost my wolf, who was my way of running and jumping like I used to, I saw my people suffer in wars ever since my father left south, and lastly, I lost the last bits of freedom I had.” He stopped. “You lost your parents and brothers, your dragons, and watched your people suffer. Lastly, you lost your agency to the madness that washed over you.”

He stopped before holding a hand forward. “I have an offer for you. I’ll use my powers to send you as far as possible into the past. Before the people of King’s Landing died. Before the battle with the dead. I don’t know how far I’ll be able to send you there, but I will.” He looked at her face, displaying a shocked expression.

Her voice was caught in her throat. “Can you really do that? Just… rewind time like that?” 

He looked thoughtful for a second there. “It’s more like having you worg into your past self, not rewind time, but I think I can.”

She gave him a more sceptical look now. “You think you can?” she asked.

“I didn’t try it before. Too many consequences, and at this point, neither of us have anything to lose from this.”

He is right. She thought to herself. If I can save even a fraction of the people I killed…

“I just have a couple of terms to set up before you just accept this offer.” He said.

“What terms?” She asked. I don’t think I care much for terms right now. I can’t imagine he would want me to do anything that was not worth this kind of reward.

“First, if you can, forgive Jon. I know he killed you, but in his situation, what would you have done?” 

She thought about Jon again. She was certainly angry at him before, but after seeing what she did… 

I became what I swore to destroy. I brought misery and death on the people I swore to protect. I presented myself as the protector of the realm, but the only one who was protecting it was Jon when he killed me. I don’t feel any anger towards him. I feel the love I did before the battle. I feel sad for him to have to see me turn into a monster.

“You said it before. I am not mad, I am just thankful for him protecting the people of Westeros from me.” She replied to Bran, voice low.

He smiled and talked again. “Second, if you can, try and save my family, or even me if you can. If you succeed in going to the past, I would like my family to see the future you decide to build.”

He sighed before proceeding. “I can promise you that people will have to die. They would do so even if you decide to never set foot on Westeros again. There was war before you came here, and no one can save everyone, but you can save innocent people, and those who care for them if you act carefully.”

“I am aware that I can’t save everyone, but as long as I can save the people I killed that day… I will take my chances.” Daenerys said, her resolve as strong as steel.

Bran looked at the sky, gazing into the distance. This stare, however, wasn’t like the one she saw in the Bran who was the Three-Eyed Raven. It was a hopeful stare. 

“Lastly,” he said, “Have a little selfishness. You had power and you used it to end slavery of your own choosing. You had the means to conquer Westeros, yet you choose to help the fight against the dead, even at your expense. Be the Daenerys who chose to use her gifts to fight the evils of the world, and don’t forget that you deserve a happy ending too.”

That last part caught her off guard. She didn’t expect him to say that the woman who murdered thousands in a day deserved a happy ending.

But she didn’t care for the terms. She decided to do this for the people of King’s Landing. 

“I accept.” She said, taking Bran’s hand.

When her hand touched his, she felt nausea. She felt as if she was on Drogon’s back after he twisted through the air many, many times.

Bran’s eyes became glazed. “I… I see.” He said weakly. Daenerys felt their hands separate as her vision started to blur.

Before she completely faded out of consciousness, she heard Bran saying something. One last piece of advice. 

“You had blood last time. This time, fire alone will suffice for them-”

The Godswood faded to black, Bran Stark along with it.

297 AC

The perfumed candles had a weird smell to them today. She wasn’t used to living in Pentos as is, but today, instead of holding a pleasant smell, the candles held the stench of burned flash. 

She recoiled at the smell, but when locking at the fire lighting the candle, something came into her mind. She remembered fire, ice, screams, an army of dead men, a horde of Dothraki, the people of Westeros and a burning city.

She remembered everything that happened to her in the next 8 years, up to her death.

Daenerys wasn’t sure if she just woke up in the past or if her past self just got all of her future memories, but either way, she was here. 

She looked at her surroundings, recognizing the manse of Illyrio Mopatis, a magister of Pentos who took her and her brother in.

Viserys. If I’m here, that means he’s alive as well…

From the way her body looked, and the memories she still had of her time in Illyrio Mopatis’ manse, she was early into the year she lived there, before she was married to… Khal Drogo.

The memory of Khal Drogo entered her mind. She thought about what Bran said. Of how she deserved a happy ending. She looked into herself. 

She still loved Drogo, but… not as she loved Jon. Maybe the Targaryen blood, prone to incest, had an effect on her, but she knew these were her feelings. 

But… Thinking about Drogo did lead Daenerys down a different rabbit hole. She remembered their wedding day, and the gift she got from Illyrio. The Dragon Eggs. She was going to need them. She then remembered what Bran Said. Did he refer to the eggs? He said that I had blood last time, because I threw people into that fire. If I don’t need that now…

Daenerys exhausted every ounce of her memory for details on the dragon eggs. She knew she got them on her wedding day, but that was a year in the future. She did accept Bran’s terms of trying to help his family, and from what she knew about the war Westeros fought when she was conquering the Essosi Slave Trade, she had almost two years before the war started. She needed to hatch her dragons and start planning. 

All the things that Bran said were floating in her head. She didn’t hold animosity towards Jon. Even if he didn’t know that killing her would result in this second chance or time travel or whatever her life turned into, he killed her for the safety of everyone. She understood that.

After that, came his talk about his family. She would have to include saving them in whatever plan she cooks up. Not just because of Bran’s words, but because the north has to be at its strongest to have better chances against the Others. 

Lastly, Bran’s statement about a happy ending. Had she not gone mad, she would have had the birthright she chased, the Iron Throne, her love with Jon and a happy 7 kingdoms to rule. 

I’d leave this one for the end. This is the least important thing for now. 

Concocting a plan is usually hard. Including what one knows into a plan of action is the standard course of action, of course, and including what reaction other people or variables may have on such a plan is usually good to ensure that your plan is successful. Making a plan knowing the major events of the next 8 years in advance is really hard, since all of these people already did things that she would have to account for and go past. If she were to prevent one event, would the other events she knew of would still follow? 

Even with these problems, Daenerys thought she came out with a pretty decent plan, although it would very much have to depend on certain events and people going her way.

The first step was finding the three dragon eggs. Bran may have very well said that fire alone would work fine with hatching them this time, and the earlier she gets her dragons makes them bigger and ready for battle much earlier then they were originally. Two years’ worth of time is an indispensable amount when raising dragons. 

She believed that Illyrio had the eggs before she married Drogo, since obtaining such rare items as dragon eggs would take time and effort. 

Her hunch was right, and she did find the chest containing the eggs in a storehouse.

Now she could actually begin with whatever she wanted to do.

                  Viserys I (As in a chapter number not king Viserys the first)

One of the servant girls came to him running.

“Your highness!” She said “The princess took off on a horse!”

Viserys couldn’t believe what he was hearing. She wanted to be a sailor. Then, she wanted to stay in some Braavosi house because it had a lemon tree, and now she was running away ?

Just as He and Illyrio were starting to work on trying to marry her off to a horse lord for an army of Dothraki, she chooses to run off. 

That’s it. She woke the Dragon this time.

“I’ll go after her. Alone .” Viserys said. She needs to be disciplined. 

He went to the outside of the manse and looked for the servants who last saw his sweet sister to demand the direction in which she took off. 

When he found the servant, a young girl, he asked her where Daenerys went and why didn’t she stop her from going.

The girl was a bit scared of the angry Targaryen prince, and showed him a note written by his sister. In the note, she wrote that she was going down a certain road and to tell Viserys not to go there. The maid then pointed down the road that Daenerys took. Viserys went to grab a horse of his own and rode in the direction leading to his sister. 

Daenerys wasn’t that hard to find, but her behavior was really odd. Even for a girl who didn’t know what the Targaryen name really meant. The horse she took was tied nearby as she piled large pieces of wood and tried making a campfire. But the size of it was simply too big, and the sun did not even start to set. It was close to it, but it was still clearly visible on the horizon. Making a campfire at this place, at this time and as big as that one was bizarre.

“Oh. You’re here. That’s good.” She said when she noticed him. She barely lifted her gaze from the pile of wood to check if it really was her brother. She then returned to her work.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he said. He was livid. She didn’t know. She didn’t understand. Her behavior over the years showed just that. If she wasn’t his sister…

“Stop this foolish behavior. You are a Targaryen! For once in your life, respect your name!” he said, voice razed with anger. 

“You already woke the Dragon up. Don’t make him angrier.” he threatened.

Daenerys examined the big campfire once more before muttering “Should be good now.” and turning to look at her brother. “I didn’t wake the dragon up,” and to his utter shock went on and lit the campfire. “Not yet.” she said as the blaze kept growing.

Viserys climbed down from his horse. He intended to take her by hand and to show her what happened when someone refused to follow their king.

And then she just entered the fire. Just like that.

Viserys just stared at it. He didn’t know what to do. He just lost his sister to a fit of her own madness. But as he looked into the fire, he saw a shape in it. The fire dampened rather quickly and to his shock, his sister was there. She looked fine for someone who entered a fire. She only had some soot and ash on her.

Viserys was dumbfounded. And then he looked closer at the three little creatures that were on his sister. They were little, yes, but it didn't take him more than a moment to identify what one of them was. Then the other one, and lastly the third little dragon.

Somehow, his sister’s madness resulted in what looked like three living dragons being born.

Viserys couldn’t believe his eyes. He could take Westeros with one dragon. With three… He would be the greatest Targaryen since Aegon the Conqueror himself. The reviver of the dynasty, The reviver of the dragons themselves. He held a hand and advanced towards his sister.

“It seems like I woken the dragons.” she said, using the words he said when she angered him.

But he was not mad. How could he be? His sister just got him three dragons. 

“They are not yours.” She said.

His anger flared, but just for a bit. There were actual dragons in front of him, and there was no way that he was going to ruin the moment.

Daenerys rose from the ashes, the three dragons still clinging to her. Viserys’s eyes were still filled with shock and awe at the three little legends made flesh clinging to his sister.

“These,” his sister gestured to the dragons. “Are my dragons. If you want to help me take the iron throne, I have terms.”

Viserys’s anger rose again for a second. She said that as if she was the one going to sit on it, but I am the dragon- Viserys calmed himself. He knew she had the power for the first time. There was no way he was going to argue with her when actual dragons were on the line. Maybe he disliked the attitude that his sister had at the moment, but that small amount of anger was dwarfed by his excitement over the fact that there were actual dragons in his presence. 

“I… I will hear your terms, sweet sister.” he said with genuine happiness. He wanted the throne, that was certain, but they were the first Targaryens in generations with actual dragons. With planning, cunning and political acumen, the dream of the Iron Throne was at least realistic. His father sat on that throne. Dragons weren’t a realistic dream. Until today.

“First,” His sister’s voice addressed him, sturdy and confident. “These are my Dragons. And they are first and foremost living creatures, and not weapons of mass destruction. As the blood of the dragon, you need to understand that first.”

Viserys didn’t even have time to think before she spoke again. “Second, I am a Targaryen just as much as you are, if not more. I demand you to treat me with the respect I deserve. Third, I can control all three dragons just as well without help from anyone else. If I let you interact with them at all, much less ride them, you need to follow the rules I set. Not one of them would acknowledge you as its rider until I allow it.”

A part of Viserys wanted to be mad at Daenerys. That she dared to imply that he would treat the symbol of his house as a mere weapon. But then another thought popped into his head. 

Maybe… maybe it’s just how dragons work. They did appear out of the fire when she entered. I don’t know enough about dragons to make decisions now.

“I accept these terms.” Viserys said. Not even thinking of what he said.

“I didn’t finish.” Daenerys said. “There’s one more term.”

Viserys didn’t even flinch. Much as he hated his sister before for not understanding what it means to be the blood of the dragon, that hatred was but a miniscule grain of sand compared to the vast desert of emotions he felt now. He could sense a shift or a change of sorts in his sister. She acted more like a Targaryen should. She had dragons. 

The terms she set before were easy for someone such as him. Of course he would treat a dragon with the respect it deserves. That was something that each of his ancestors would do, and he was not just any Targaryen. 

Treating his sister with respect was a lot easier now that she acted more like an actual dragon. That was good. Following another term would be easy.

“I have a plan to take the seven kingdoms. We follow my plan, and the Iron Throne is ours. Anything to do with who sits on the throne itself doesn’t matter for it.”

She have a plan? What would she know of conquest? But… she’s the one with the dragons. With them on our side, I don’t think that a mistake or two would matter as much.

“I accept the terms.” He said confidently. 

Daenerys looked unsure. She looked at the dragons and at him again. Viserys’s mind then drifted to the image of him, Viserys Targaryen III, riding a dragon into battle, just like Aegon the first, leading to conquest of Westeros. He looked at the dragons again. He needed to pick one. The black one reminded him of the stories he heard about Balerion the black dread, the green one was looking a lot more peaceful, and…

He felt a connection the second his eyes focused on the white dragon. It was the most beautiful creature Viserys has ever seen. A black dragon may be fit for a conquering king like Aegon the first, but a shining white dragon was, in his eyes, fit for the true king returning to his land.

Daenerys took a deep breath.

Her voice exuded less confidence than before. “Their names are Drogon,” She pointed to the black one on her shoulder, “Rhaegal,” The green dragon made a weak sound, “And… Viserion.” 

Viserion… 

“Now listen, because this is important.” Her voice returned to what it was before, having a commanding tone to it. 

“I saw a vision of the future. I hatched these dragons based on what I saw in that vision. I think they are proof enough that I am not lying.”

While Viserys took his time digesting all that had happened, Daenerys went to the horse she took before and grabbed an extra set of clothes to wear. 

Viserys approached his sister, who was now holding all three dragons in her hands.

These dragons are the only thing separating her from the realm of madness. 

“You said that you had a plan to conquer the seven kingdoms, and then told me you saw the future. Anyone would think you’ve gone mad. But,” He looked at the dragons, and back at his sister’s stern expression. One that he never saw on her face before today. “I did say that I’ll trust you.”

Daenerys took a look at her dragons and turned around to face him. Seeing him again, the white dragon, Viserion, made a noise and tried flapping his wings. 

…And Viserys thought he was going to faint.

Daenerys looked at the dragon with uncertainty, but then took a deep breath and addressed Viserys. 

“It seems that…” the words left her mouth dry. “Viserion has taken a liking to you.” She held her hand forward and the white dragon crawled on it. Towards Viserys. “At the first sign of you breaking any of the terms, or giving me any reason to believe you aren’t worthy of helping me with him…” She left the threat in the air, open to interpretation. 

He accepted her terms with a silent nod, holding his hand forward to feel the dragon actually touch him. It was the best feeling he felt since he saw his mother.

The dragon went and crawled on him, eventually finding his shoulder as a worthy place to stay still on. Viserys could only imagine what his ancestors would say about him. A great Targaryen who was taking his first steps to reclaim their family’s rights.

“The first thing we need to do in order to retake the kingdoms,” his sister’s voice sounded, “Would be to hide these dragons. I don’t need to see the future to tell you what the usurper would do if he finds out about them.” 

Him. The Usurper. Robert Baratheon.

“I’ll burn that man myself.” was the first thing that came out of Viserys’s lips at the mention of the man who took the throne from his father. The man who killed his brother. At the thought of Rhaegar, Viserys’s eyes wandered to the green-scaled dragon, still in his sister’s arms.

“No need. He will be dead in two years’ time.” Daenerys talked about the death of the man who ruined their family as casually as she would the weather.

Viserys’s attention was fully in the conversation now. He wanted to confirm what he heard. “What did you say?” he asked. The hatred for Robert evident in his tone.

“I saw the future. Robert Baratheon would die in around two years’ time, which would send the seven kingdoms into chaos. I have a plan of what we could do to secure the Iron Throne at that time.”

I would call her mad. Say that she has no idea what she is speaking about. But… He looked at the dragon perched on his shoulder. Even without her terms… I have reason to believe.

“I’m listening.”

“Good. As I said, we need to hide so that no rumours of the dragons should reach anywhere in the seven kingdoms… with one exception.”

Daenerys continued without elaborating. “The Usurper’s death will cause a conflict that will be named ‘The war of the five kings’, and we are going to capitalize on this.”

“Five kings… and in the future you saw, did we win the war?” he asked. The mere possibility of this coming war was too good to pass in his mind. 

“You were dead before it started. That plot you had with the Dothraki didn’t go well.” she said, not elaborating any further. 

“What?!” Viserys’s voice rose. Viserion on his shoulder moved a bit, uncomfortable with the sudden noise, but quickly returned to a perched position.

“I only hatched the Dragons after your death, and was busy gathering an army in Essos during that war. Now, I have both the knowledge and the dragons before the war started.” She said.

Viserys could still not accept the fact that he died by the hands of the Dothraki, but he decided to not let this happen. They would abandon all ties with the Dothraki plan as soon as possible.

Once Viserion is big enough, non of these horse fuckers would dare approach my feet to even kiss them.

“The next step in the plan is crucial. To understand the war, you need to know about it, so listen carefully.” 

Viserys forced himself to stop thinking about the Dothraki and turned his attention back to Daenerys.

“The war is called ‘The war of the five kings’ because five different people declared themselves kings of something and they each fought. I need you to understand what happened there, so pay attention.” She took a pause. “The first king is Joffrey Baratheon.” she said, immediately followed by Viserys’s contemptful remark of “The Usurper's spawn.” 

“Not quite. The war’s main conflict happened because the three children believed to be the Usurper’s are actually basterds born from the queen and the kingslayer.”

Viserys’s hatred intensified even more at the mention of Jaime Lanister, the man who broke his oath and murdered his father.

“So the current heirs to the Usurper’s throne are not even his children?” he asked. It didn’t matter to him. They were still the children of one of the people he hated most in the world, so they will still burn.

He looked at Viserion, still on his shoulder. You would help me burn them, right? He thought.

“Correct. Robert Baratheon doesn’t have any legal children. The next two claimants to the Iron Throne are his brothers, Stannis and Renly Baratheon.” she said.

Viserys was a bit surprised by the fact the younger brother also claimed the throne, and didn’t support the older one, before realizing he was talking about the Usurper’s family. All of them desired the throne for themselves, obviously.

“The other two kings didn’t fight for the Iron Throne. Robb Stark crowned himself the king in the north and fought for northern independence, and Balon Greyjoy did the same with the Iron Islands.” Daenerys said.

So only three people wanted the Iron Throne. That is good to know, although when I sit on it, I don’t plan to lead only six kingdoms.

“Now that you know that, I can tell you what we need to do,” she said. “We need three men to go and do some work in the seven kingdoms for us before the war starts. One should be an envoy to Dorne. The Martells are the only ones who we should tell about the dragons.”

House Martell… they supported us during the war against the Usurper. Rhaegar married their princess, Elia.

“All of Dorne are mad at the Lanisters for what they did, and would happily support a Targaryen claim to the Iron Throne. Especially if said claimant has dragons. I’d say that Thirty-thousand Dornish Spears sound nice.”

Viserys often imagined an army marching in his name. Riding a magnificant white dragon above a field of spears marching in his name was a dream he wouldn’t mind dreaming any night.

“The Dornish will require a marriage pact, so that’s where you come in. They have a princess, and they want to marry the Targaryens.”

Viserys was a bit surprised at the mention of his own marriage, and his instincts told him to tell her that she had no say in such matters, but he realized then that she was already shaping his future with that plan of hers. He also wasn’t opposed to marrying a dornish princess like his brother Rhaegar did. He did hear that Elia Martell was beautiful. He then turned to a different question.

“So, if this goes to pass and I marry a Dornish princess, what would you do?”

Daenerys had a smile forming on her face at his question.

“I’ll simply make an entrance at the right time. The North entered the war because the fake Baratheon Joffrey executed Ned Stark, and they declared independence a short time later. I’ll enter the scene when the north is still not independent, offer myself in a marriage pact, along with the support of three dragons and Dorne on your side.” She stopped to take a breath. “At that point, I would offer justice for Ned Stark, fair treatment of the north by the Iron Throne, I will say that I condemn our father’s burning of Branden and Rickard Stark, and offer them one more thing that I will need to get a bit later.”

Viserys was surprised by what he heard coming from his sister’s mouth. “You would condemn the acts of our father?” he asked.

“Simple words can help you get somewhere around twenty-thousand hardened northerners.”

Viserys’s eyes lit a bit when the number was mentioned, but he still had doubts.

“Not only that, but the Lannisters started the war by attacking the Riverlands, who are the closest ally of the North through already existing marriage pacts. They were already fighting the Lannisters with the north, Meaning Ten-thousand more Rivermen.” she stopped. 

“Sometimes, we need to make hard decisions during wars, and these are only words. Our father is dead, condemning his actions would hurt your ego a bit, but it could gain you the loyalty and steel of the northerners and rivermen.”

Viserys felt better about that part. 

“So you would marry this Robb Stark? The son of Eddard Stark?” He asked.

“No. He would already be married at the time. The other two sons of house Stark are also unfit to marry. That is why I need the two other men I mentioned earlier. The first thing I need to do is to send a letter to the North. I think I may not be the only one who got these visions of the future, and I would want to verify that.”

Viserys was just confused by that one, but he did not see these weird visions she referred to, but decided to not intervene.

“The Final Man will go to the Citadel in Oldtown. He needs to get the marriage records of our brother Rhaegar.” She said

At the mention of his namesake, the green dragon moved a little.

“I… I don’t understand. Why would the north care about our brother’s marriage?” he asked, puzzled. 

“This is a bit complicated, but the Usurper’s war started with Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark disappearing and everyone, including Lyanna’s betrothed, Robert Baratheon, thinking that Rhaegar kidnapped her, which let to the whole war. Before the battle of the Trident, Rhaegar nulled his marriage with Elia Martell to Marry Lyanna Stark instead. If we prove that Rhaegar didn’t kidnap her, that could defuse the animosity between houses Stark and Targaryen.”

“The Lanisters and the Baratheons would weaken themselves fighting each other and we can strike when we want to.”

If this works… no. When this works… Visarys imagined it again. Riding on a dragon to King’s Landing, armies at his back. 

He sent a silent prayer to whatever god gave his sister these visions.

Chapter Text

                  Daenerys II

Daenerys didn’t have much love for her brother. 

He mistreated her, and throughout her childhood he was a cruel and harsh presence that was always close to her.

But she knew that it was a result of the suffering he endured. He had to flee from place to place alone in an unknown continent with her at his side, and even sell the last remnant he had of their mother just to survive. 

She knew he was just getting worse as more and more time passed, But for all of his cruelty, he was the reason she survived.

Bran Stark did tell her to be a little selfish. Was it really that bad to wish her brother some happiness? 

She knew he mistreated her, but… who was she of all people to determine if someone deserves a second chance?

Even with all the terms she put in place, letting Viserion out of her hands when he was so young was concerning. But she knew that her brother, for all of his faults, wouldn’t dare to mistreat a dragon. 

What surprised her a bit was that Viserion actually made the first move. She saw how Viserys stared at him, but for Viserion to respond that way surprised her. He was her only riderless child the last time she went through this.

At least… Riderless in life. She thought, as the image of Viserion’s corpse, raised to serve the Night King. She named him after her brother. He would be a better rider than the king of the dead. And she did say that if he wasn’t following even one of her terms she wouldn't let him ride Viserion, so she knew he was not going to take any chances. 

Daenerys unveiled her plan to gather the forces of Dorne, The North and the Riverlands to help them claim the Iron Throne. Viserys, for his part, approved of nearly the entire plan, with the exception of denouncing their Father’s actions against the Starks, but was willing to go with it to gain the Northerners and Riverman on their side.

For Daenerys herself, she hoped that denouncing her father’s actions and revealing the truth of Rhaegar and Lyanna would be enough to gain the north, but if she needed to, she would do much more than that to gain the north’s loyalty again. 

Daenerys didn’t get to play the political side of the Game of Thrones during her time in Westeros. She came just in time for the war part. But she did have a plan. 

Viserys obviously thought that he would be the next to take the throne because of his place in the line of succession, but Daenerys neglected to mention who she would marry to solidify the alliance with the north. Presenting The North with the letters legitimizing Jon as a trueborn part of the Stark family as Lyanna’s son would not only actually make him a good option for a political marriage, but the fact that he is Rhaegar’s son would place him above Viserys in the line of succession.

She can have both the political marriage with the north, the man she loves and the Iron Throne, even if only by proxy, and she doubted Jon’s willingness to rule as is.

I really hope that this is what you meant by ‘happy ending’, Bran Stark… 

However, Daenerys still had one more reason to keep Viserys alive. The Game of Thrones is a dangerous landscape, one in which you win or you die. And as it stood now, to anyone looking from the outside, Viserys was the rightful heir for the Targaryen claim.

No one knew that she was the real power behind the dragons, or that she was from the future, and since she was not going to announce Jon’s real heritage to anyone except a couple of important people until they won the Iron Throne, it meant that any attempt to take the dragon’s head out of the game would focus on Viserys, 

But normal assassins weren’t what scared her. 

She knew the Red Woman from the battle of Winterfell, and she knew she worked for Stannis Baratheon before he died.

She went to the saddlebags on horse that she took from Illyrio’s Manse, signaling Viserys to follow her.

Viserys quickly followed her with his eyes as she took out something from them. She did take a couple of things from Illyrio before she left, but none were as valuable as the Dragon Eggs, and she doubted that he would be worried about her stealing things she wasn’t supposed to know about.

She took out some pieces of meat she had. Not much, but enough for now. The dragons she had in her hands, Drogon and Rhaegal, both made noises that Daenerys knew conveyed excitement when spotting the food, and even Viserion, who was currently not far behind of Viserys’s shoulder lifted his head for the food.

She placed the dragons on the ground and put the meat in front of them. 

Drogon immediately released a small but effective fire from his jaws that burned the meat that he now moved to eat. Rhaegar quickly followed his brother, and Viserion got off of Viserys’s shoulder to partake as well.

As all the dragons ate, she started speaking to Viserys. “That won’t be enough for them,” She said as she handed him a piece of meat. “You want to try feeding them?”

Viserys eagerly took the piece of meat from her hand and slowly approached the dragons. He placed the meat slowly in front of Viserion as the latter examined the food presented to him with curiosity before burning it with a little fire and digging in on the meal presented to him.

Viserys watched the little dragons eat, fascinated, before a befuddled look quickly turned to a panicked expression settled on his face.

“Sweet sister,” He called. “I have a concern regarding the dragons. You may know this, but after the dance of the dragons, every hatched dragon egg produced a sickly dragon that quickly died. You said that in your vision of the future you saw the dragons grow big, right?” 

Daenerys was a bit shocked when she saw the concern etched in her brother’s features. She knew he was once concerned about her, but she did not have a single memory of him acting like it.

The sight actually surprised her, and she stuttered for a second before gathering herself. “N-no need to worry. When I saw my own future, I saw Viserion and Rhaegal large enough to be destroying war ships and siege engines with ease, and also saw myself riding Drogon into battle and defeating a full army of Lannister soldiers,” She remembered the battle where she first encountered a Scorpion. These were also a concerning matter, but one they will have to discuss another time.

Concern dissipated from Viserys’s features, although still cautious when looking at Viserion eating the charred meat with his brothers.

He started approaching slowly, kneeling before the white dragon and stroking his little body slowly. Viserion seemed to enjoy the attention he was getting. Viserys moved to examine Rhaegal, still eating his piece of meat, and moved to try and stroke him too. Apprehensive at first, Rhaegal moved away, but soon actually let her brother touch him.

He seems to be enjoying this… It was such a long time since Daenerys last actually saw her brother, much less saw him with such enjoyment on his face.

Maybe he isn’t as bad as I remembered… She moved and did the same with Drogon.

After a while, Daenerys started talking about the plan to Viserys again.

“We need to start with the plan as soon as possible. The Envoys to Dorne and the North are the most important ones, in that order.”

If Bran or Jon remember what happened, keeping contact with them will be important, but talking with the Martells is the top priority.

“In order to get these dragons to grow as healthy and large as possible, we will need a large supply of food for them, as well as open range. While these will probably be easy to find here in Essos, there is a possibility for someone to see them.” She gestured to the dragons. 

“They are not big enough to ward larger groups of people or defend us just yet, and finding trustworthy people here will be hard if not impossible. There’s nothing we can promise them that a captured living dragon won’t be able to get them.” She said.

Viserys brought his hand to his chin, seemingly thinking. “So we need to hide,” he finally said. “In a place with a lot of food and open space…” he thought aloud.

“I don’t think many places fit this description, sister…” 

“Oh, there is one. And the people there will actually help us. We can raise the dragons in Dorne. I doubt that anyone would go looking for us there.” 

Looking at Viserys more closely, she added “The Martells will probably be our most important allies in Westeros, since they have all the reasons to want us on the throne. They are the ones we need to contact with the most haste, to get to Dorne and leave Essos as soon as possible.”

Viserys rose up to try and get to his horse as the sun in the sky was getting lower. He looked at Daenerys, expecting her to come along, but a moment later he remembered the agreement they made.

“What should we do? We need to stay in a secluded place until we contact the Dornish…” 

Daenerys thought for a moment. “Return to Illyrio for now and try to send for the Martells. Say that it is an urgent matter and as future allies, they should send a member of their family or a trusted retainer to escort us to Westeros at the first opportunity,” Daenerys looked back at what she heard about the Martells, and her thoughts wandered back Tyrion’s account of the events after Joffrey’s death. “Try to call The Red Viper. I think he can be trusted.”

Viserys tilted his head in confusion. “The Red Viper? Who is he?”

“Elia Martell’s brother, Oberyn Martell. He is one of the people trying to avenge her and our niece and nephew’s deaths at the hands of the Lannisters.”

Viserys nodded at her. “I still have questions about your knowledge of the future, but first, where will you and the dragons go?” 

She looked around, seeing almost nothing in the flatlands outside of Pentos. “I will stay in the Flatlands, trying to find a more hidden place, but this area is huge, and since the dragons won’t fly high, I don’t think that I will have any problem hiding until we get help.”

Viserys nodded his head. “Then contacting the Martells will be our topmost priority.”

“I trust you to tell Illyrio something that will let you come here tomorrow without any suspicion. Try to bring anything you think necessary for the dragons along with food.”

Viserys nodded and went to his horse. He looked at the three dragons in her hands one more time before riding away.
I doubt he is going to disobey me, but his temper might cause some problems if some things won’t go our way… she thought as she too went for the horse she took from Illyrio.

The Flatlands that surrounded Pentos were a place habited only by those like farmers and miners, and there were not many of them. Daenerys was worried about someone finding her, but she would rather take the risk then let any word of Dragons reach the 7 kingdoms outside of her terms.

Seeing the looks on her brother’s face and his actual emotions of worry, ones that she did not see for so long and had no memory of made her feel a tinge of guilt for using him as a glorified assassin shield, but she wished that it wouldn’t come to that to begin with. 

And since I think he would rather die than risk losing the right to ride a dragon, he would probably have Viserion close to him by the time we get to Westeros. I doubt anyone would want to take that kind of risk aside from The Faceless Assassins and The Red Woman, and I will probably lose my mind trying to figure out how to prevent them from actually moving against us.

Yet again she thought of her time in Winterfell, seeing both the red woman and Arya Stark. The best I can do right now is hoping the Red Woman likes the dragons being under someone’s control more than going nowhere when facing the long night, and that no-one in the seven kingdoms would actually agree to pay for a faceless assassin.

And so Daenerys went to try and find shelter for the night, all the while thinking about house Martell’s answer to the message Viserys was going to send, and on how she will check if Bra, or anyone else she was close to, actually remembers what happened in the future. There were not many options, but the most likely ones will be Bran himself and Jon.

She didn’t know what happened to Jon after her death, but seeing as Drogon was close to them when she died… she didn’t fancy Jon’s chances.

Would it be wrong to hope he does remember me? I don’t want him to die… again, but I also don’t want to interact with him like that…

I wonder… the feeling of betrayal I had the moment he stabbed me, justified as it might have been… is that what he felt like when the Night’s Watch man killed him?

She knew that Jon, even if he wasn’t killed by Drogon, would most likely be killed by her Unsullied or the Dothraki, or judged and given the death sentence for queen and kinslaying.

I hope that, if he died, he will remember me here. And if he didn’t… she didn’t want to finish that thought. She knew she loved Jon and marrying him after legitimizing him would make the most sense, but she didn’t know how she would feel if she just had to form a relationship with a Jon that wasn’t… her Jon. The one she remembered.

She would just dump all the feelings she has for the Jon she knew onto someone who might be the same as him, but also different.

This is making my head hurt.

Daenerys remembered all the other people she formed bonds with since she got her dragons. Missandei, Grey Worm, Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan… 

She then thought to herself, reflecting on her plans. Jorah is still exiled and would be working for Robert Baratheon, but if things go according to plan, Joffrey is still going to dismiss him from the kingsguard and he will come to me. Or probably to Viserys, but he will still join us. As for the others…

Daenerys never forgot her mission. To end slavery. 

Once I have the Seven Kingdoms, I will raise an army and come for the slavers. I will not abandon the people I freed.

However, these were only the nice memories she had. She would eventually have to face Sansa Stark again, and she was the one who leaked Jon’s heritage to whoever else knew of it.

She knew that Bran sent her back in time, but she didn’t know if he would send Sansa or Arya back as well. Personally, she was all aboard the idea of making a relationship with a Sansa Stark who wouldn’t remember her or want to undermine her efforts.

Daenerys was mostly neutral about facing Arya again. She might even like it, since she was working to prevent the death of Arya’s brothers and mother, and having a faceless assassin with a vendetta against your enemies at your side is certainly nice if she was going to play the game of thrones.

If the best case scenario were to happen, she and Arya would even be family.

The thought of Bran telling her she deserved a happy ending creeped into her mind again.

Back then, every time I tried to have a family, something happened. First it was Viserys spiraling into madness, then Drogo and Rheago died, and then I went mad and killed thousands.

Daenerys reached that decision when she thought of the matter for more than a second.

I want to feel what it’s like to have a family. Sorry if it’s not what you meant, Bran, but maybe becoming part of your family will be my “happy ending”…

Chapter Text

Viserys II

Viserys rose from the bed he had in Illyrio’s Manse. It was bound to be one of the greatest mornings of his life, of course. He and his sister were about to start their plan for the Iron Throne.  He was the first Targaryen king since Aegon Dragonbane who witnessed a dragon, and Viserion and his brothers, Drogon and Rhaegal were going to put them on the Iron Throne.

Viserys then remembered the commanding presence his sister exuded.

That vision of hers… I don’t know what happened, but the meek girl who was there Yesterday morning was seemingly replaced by a Targaryen Queen from the stories father told me.

Can a mere vision do that?

As time proceeded and Viserys saw his sister grow, he became more and more desperate to get back the throne. He knew that. He had hoped that some idea of his would work eventually, but when your little sister gets the confidence boost of a lifetime, three dragons and the knowledge on how to conquer Westeros in a matter of hours, how can one not become suspicious? 

The woman in his sister’s form acted nothing like his sister ever did.

She didn’t dare defying him before, but now she made him afraid of defying her. 

She didn’t appreciate the name she was given before, but if he didn’t know himself, he’d say that she’s more Targaryen then he was.

He knew she didn’t make any effort into his goal of claiming their throne back, but now he felt like a piece on her Westeros-wide Cyvasse board.

Is that person really Daenerys? Or is that a different Targaryen from the past? Or… Is that my sister from the future?

Illyrio was not a problem. Viserys told him that his sister did prefer to be away for now. Illyrio accepted this, offering to send people to tend to the young girl, but Viserys told him that it won’t be necessary for now.

Viserys ordered his horse be loaded with a camp and with meat. He was about to ride to see his sister and the dragons, but he then remembered what Daenerys told him. They needed three people to go west across the Narrow Sea.

“Illyrio, I need you to gather three of your most trusted envoys to go to Westeros.” Viserys said.

The magister’s eyes showed a slight bit of shock, but he quickly composed himself.

“To… what purpose, your majesty?” He asked.

“The first one would go to Dorne,” Viserys said, trying to convey the authority that should be demonstrated by a king. “The fastest here or the fastest of who comes here. I would probably have a letter for them by the evening.” He finished.

I hope I do, at least. According to Daenerys, the faster we contact the Martells, the safer Viserion and the others would be.

He then tried to think about where the other two people should go. He knew one of them was supposed to look into Rhaegar in the citadel in Oldtown, and Daenerys said something about checking if other people know the future as well. 

That possibility alone made Viserys shake. If other people know that they have the dragons, or about the coming war… would they prevent it? Try to claim the throne themselves?

I have to ask her more about who she is talking about. 

“The destinations for the other two will be revealed when I come back. Don’t fail me” he told him before mounting and riding towards the place where he and Daenerys met Yesterday.

He arrived at the designated location and saw no sister of his. He immediately turned to anger, thinking about his… previous sister? The one from before yesterday, before remembering the Dragons. He immediately turned to concern for them. He started looking around, still on the back of his horse, before spotting the silver-haired figure of his sister, the three dragons in her arms.

“Where were you?” He said, his anger flaring a bit before he remembered who he was talking with. 

“I was hiding, in case someone who shouldn’t see the dragons were to come across.” she answered coldly.

Viserys immediately felt ashamed for not thinking about something so obvious. He also felt tense. For the first time, he understood what he said about ‘Waking the Dragon’. Her cold tone made him feel exactly how she felt when he said that.

He did not want to Wake the Dragon. He did not want to Wake Daenerys Targaryen.

They went to a lower location. One that was a bit harder to spot in the mostly flat lands. The horse Daenerys took was tied there. Daenerys sat on the grass and let the dragons free from her hands. Viserys tied his horse and went towards the dragons. He pet Viserion, regarding the little dragon with the reverence demanded by such a magnificent creature.

He looked towards Rhaegal and Drogon who were closer to Daenerys. He did want to try and bond with the other dragons, but first, he and his sister had to talk.

“I talked with Illyrio about sending the men to Westeros. But I do need more details. About the plan as a whole.”

Daenerys raised an eyebrow. “What do you need to know? I thought I made myself pretty clear. We make pacts with Dorne and when war starts we get the North and Riverlands on our side. We take the throne and force the opposing forces’ leaders to bend the knee or bathe them in Drogon’s fire.”

“I… I do agree with that plan, sister, but… I think it’s too… unspecific. You only told me the factions’ leaders, but not who supports them.”

Viserys not only needed more details to think about the coming war, but to also satisfy his own curiosity. Presented with the opportunity to gain knowledge of the future, he would take as much of it as possible.

He also wanted to seek the limits of Daenerys’s knowledge. For all he knew, his sister was omnipotent. 

“Well, the vision I got was a little less specific about some details. I know that at the first step of the war, the Greyjoys only have the support of the Iron Islands. The fake Baratheon Joffrey has the support of the Westerlands and the crownlands.” 

She stopped, allowing Viserys to digest the information “Although two of the Usurper’s brothers are fighting in this war, the Lord of Storm’s End is the younger one, Renly Baratheon, and the Stormlords choose to support him over Stannis. He also has the support of the Tyrels and the Reach.”

Viserys’s eyebrows rise. “The Stormlands and the Reach? That might be the biggest army in the war… This Renly Baratheon… he sounds like a dangerous opponent.”

“Stannis, the lord of Dragonstone, has only the support of the royal fleet and Dragonstone. The Starks and Tullys have the Riverlands and the North. The Vale and Dorne stayed completely neutral.”

Viserys assumed that the Dornish would not support any other claimant to the Iron Throne. It was good to have this weird proof of their loyalty. He did see the value in having the North and the Riverlands, as he remembered Daenerys saying that the north did not fight for the Iron Throne, but to avenge their warden and later for independence.

Viserys decided to dig deeper. He wanted to know a couple more things before actually making judgement on what happened to his sister.

“Are there any significant names that arose during the conflict? I have heard about Stannis Baratheon, since he chased us out of Dragonstone, and you did say something about The Red Viper from Dorne. I assume the Lannisters still have that traitor, Tywin, and his son, the Kingslayer?”

Daenerys was thinking. A moment passed before she gave her answer. 

“From what I heard, The commanders of the war made a lot of difference. Robb Stark, the son of Ned Stark and the man who was declared the ‘King in the North’ managed to capture the Kingslayer in battle early into the war. From what I r- know, he was an excellent commander and had a consistent string of victories over Lannister forces.”

Viserys did catch a slip there, but couldn’t figure out what was said. He honestly cared more for what his sister revealed regarding the war. 

“This Robb Stark captured the Kingslayer?” He said, his voice sharper. She wanted the North and Riverlands. If the North holds the man who killed father…

“I start to understand why you want the North on our side. Did Robb Stark win the war then?” he asked, prying for more details.

“He could have, but the Lannisters managed to kill him.” Viserys was a bit surprised by the revelation, but he didn’t let it stop him. “How did that happen? Did the Kingslayer live?”

Having knowledge of a man’s death beforehand could save an entire kingdom. If my father had that kind of knowledge, Jaime Lannister would’ve been executed on the spot…

“The Lannisters conspired with the Freys, and then they broke guest rights.”

Viserys could feel the color drain from his face. Guest rights were sacred. 

“They were desperate enough to do that?” he asked. “If they needed to resort to that level of foul play, then I really want Robb Stark on our side…” he said. He imagined himself, Viserion, a grown, magnificent Dragon by his side, executing Jaime Lannister.

“So the Dornish want Tywin and the mountain’s skulls for the murder of Rhaegar’s wife and children and the Northerners want to kill Joffrey for killing their lord?” he asked. None of these factions wanted the throne and their interests all aligned with their own.

But the thing is…

It feels too good to be true. This kind of war breaks out just when we have dragons.

His sister nodded.

Viserys took a deep breath and a moment to take in the new information he didn’t get yesterday.

“Now,” He said after gathering his thoughts. “What should our message be to house Martell? You did mention that they were our highest priority.”

Daenerys closed her eyes and brought a hand to her chin, thinking. 

“Tell them that you, Viserys Targaryen, are interested in marriage with Arianne Martell, the Iron Throne and justice to our Niece, Nephew and our Sister-in-law.”

“Then, tell them that you ask for a trusted Dornish representative to come and see us for themselves, for a matter of utmost importance that could not be conveyed by letters alone. Use the proper greetings and show the respect demanded of a house as esteemed as the Martells.” She finished. 

Viserys nodded at her as she was done conveying the information.

“Now… For my second question.” He said, but hesitation was evident in his voice. This specific topic brought an eerie feeling to his mind.

“You said that there might be more people who know about the future. People other than you. Who are they? What would they do with that information? Would they attempt to take our throne? Kill us and our dragons?” Viserys said. His voice contained a spectrum of emotions, ranging from fear for himself, the dragons and even his sister, worry for their plan and anger at other people at the prospect of potentially messing up the plan that his sister hatched to take the throne back.

Daenerys got back to thinking. “They are mostly people who allied with me in the future. Having even one of them on our side could make the war twice as easy.” She finally said.

The dread in Viserys was quickly replaced. Daenerys was his only source of information, and she had given him no reason to believe what she was saying was false. 

Hearing these words, of how even one of these future allies of their cause could make the war twice as easy filled him with… hope. But there was still more to be figured out.

“Although…” Daenerys said after thinking some more. “One of them might find it in her best interest to stab us in the back. The fear of what she could do if she decided to target us is a main concern of the haste to contact house Martell.”

That was more like what Viserys feared. Someone who might come for them and for their dragons.

“Who is she?” He asked, voice dripping with anger.

“Sansa Stark. But she hasn’t done anything yet.” she replied calmly.

“Stark?” He pondered the revelation. “Who are the others?”

“Arya Stark, Brandon Stark and…” her voice took a tone Viserys didn’t hear in the last two days. Hesitation. That third person was somehow different from the others.

And these are more Starks… this just makes me more curious…

“The man we need to legitimize for my marriage pact with the north. Ned Stark’s… Bastard, Jon Snow.” She said, a tone of finality present.

Viserys couldn’t stop the anger. “You would marry a bastard ?!” his voice rose. Then he realized who he was speaking with. Daenerys’s eyes stared at him.

“His situation is complicated.” she said coldly.

Viserys feared bringing up the topic of Ned Stark’s bastard again, but from how his sister talked about him and the entire deal with the marriage pact, something was missing.

“All of the people you mentioned are Starks,” he said. He was about to ask for their motives in helping them, but then he remembered the reason the North would go to war. Only two things were missing now.

He did decide to avoid the topic of Jon Snow, but he was still curious about the person she said could betray them. “Based on what I heard, I get the reasons the Starks would join our cause, but what would make one of them betray us?”

“The sacred value held by the Starks is honor. All of them hold that value…” She stopped. “Except Sansa. She betrayed me in the future, and I’m not sure anything would make her hesitate before doing so again. I do think there’s more reason that the other people will remember, but I simply can’t dismiss the possibility.”

Viserys decided to then take a break. He got the information he wanted about the war. He felt like getting more out of Daenerys would be getting into dangerous waters. He did keep a mental note to himself to try and get any more information about the Starks from her.

But for now, he went to his horse and produced the meat he brought. He wanted to bond with his sister’s Dragons. 

“So how do we check if any of the other people you mentioned know anything about the future?” asked Viserys after they took a break, feeding the dragons.

“I can only check with one of them for now, and that is Jon Snow.”

She produced what seemed to be a letter.

She had that already? if she had that already, that meant she actually took the time to write it, and it’s for that Jon Snow… something is up with him… 

Viserys was about to open the note, but Daenerys’s voice rang before he could.

“Send the note without opening it. It’s for one person’s eyes alone.” she said, raising his curiosity about the entire deal with the bastard even more.

He wanted to know what was in that note, but… the risk was too big. He didn’t want to Wake the Dragon.

“Tell Illyrio’s man to first send the letter to the Martells, and then to send this to Winterfell. Tell the envoy they should ask Jon Snow if he has a reply letter to the one he got.” She instructed.

Viserys knew he needed to go. He wanted to spend more time with the dragons, but he would have time to do that in Dorne. The first thing on his mind was for the dragons to be safe. Then comes the rest.

Viserys got the supplies Daenerys asked for from the horse. He then went to the dragons. Petting Viserion and even Rhaegal, who just accepted the gesture in silence. 

Viserys mounted his horse and rode off towards Illyrio’s Manse. 

Curiosity ate at him. He knew that opening Daenerys’s note to Jon Snow would anger her, but it wasn’t sealed or anything. Just a letter on paper. And Viserys wanted to know more about the future. He knew there were things that she didn’t tell him.

Illyrio’s manse was not far, and so he reached it rather quickly on horseback. He agreed with Daenerys on the topic of the Martells, and immediately went to write a letter for them, just like she said.

He took up a piece of paper and a quill and went to a quiet room, preparing a letter to house Martell with the topics his sister brought up being in the front of his mind.

He was busy composing a letter worthy of a king when he heard a knock on the door. “You may enter.” he said, a bit irritated.

It better be Illyrio with news about the envoys… Viserys thought to himself as he turned to face the door.

As if manifested from Viserys’s thoughts, Illyrio entered the room. “Your majesty,” Said the Magister with a measured tone. “The envoy for Dorne will be ready to head out at dawn if you have the message he should deliver. The two other Envoys will be here tomorrow at dusk, and we will need to discuss their destinations by then.” he informed Viserys.

“You have done well,” Viserys said with a tone of authority. “I will remember that. I am writing the letter for Dorne as we speak. I will give it to the envoy when it is finished.” Illyrio nodded at Viserys’s words and exited the room, leaving Viserys alone to finish his work.

After what felt like hours, Viserys came up with a short and concise letter. He asked for the hand of Arianne Martell, vowed vengeance against Tywin Lannister for what he did to Elia, Aegon and Rhaenys, and asked the Martells for a conversation with a trusted member or envoy of their own. He did not want to outright declare the Dragons’ existence, just in case the letter fell into the wrong hands.

But before Viserys went to deliver his letter to the envoy, he felt his curiosity gnaw at him. Viserys’s hands went towards Daenerys’s letter, the one meant for Jon Snow.

He was afraid of Daenerys… But she would never know if he opened it.

Or would she? I don’t know anything about her anymore. I don’t know what will happen if I open it. 

His hand touched the letter. He was the dragon. The intimidating aura his sister exuded had a weaker effect on him when she was not close. 

He thought about the letter. Of how she told him not to open it. Viserys thought more about the knowledge he already had of these new circumstances.

His sister getting three dragons and a complete personality change were the things he already knew. 

She used the Dragons’ hatching to convince me of a future she knows of where there is a golden opportunity for us to take back the Iron Throne.

However, she seems too acquainted with the future details, and especially the Stark Family. When she stuttered earlier, she made an ‘R’ sound and then switched to the ‘know’ she said. If she was about to say “Remember”, it would seem like she had interacted with that Stark. Seeing how she knows the rest of the Stark family, and is even willing to marry that bastard… Viserys glanced at the letter.

Viserys retired to his bed early that night, after delivering the letter for the Martells to Illyrio. His head was filled with thoughts of letters, dreams of fields filled with the Spears of Dorne and the banners of the red Three Headed Dragon of house Targaryen and the Spear and sun of the Martells.

Daenerys III

“The letter to Dorne was sent. Illyrio said that the other two envoys will be at the Manse at dusk. You said that one of them should head to Ned Stark’s bastard and the other to check on Rhaegar’s marriage,” Viserys recounted. “Is that what I am supposed to tell them?”

Daenerys thought about it for a moment. “Tell the one headed to Oldtown to check the topic in secret. I don’t want anyone accidentally letting it slip that someone was interested in Rhaegar Targaryen’s marriage. Especially not with Varys as the Usurper's Master of Whispers.”

Daenerys remembered the Eunuch. He was a slippery man and she did not want news of this getting to him. He was not a person deserving a modicum of trust.

Viserys nodded after a moment. “And the second one?”

Daenerys thought about this question before Viserys even arrived. “The letter I gave you. Tell the envoy to deliver it to Jon Snow in Winterfell without telling him who sent it." She stopped. "Tell him to then ask Jon if he has something to send in return. Based on that, I will know if he has any knowledge of the future.”

I hope he actually remembers me… 

Viserys shot her a skeptical look. 

I hope that trying to be more open with him won’t be a mistake. Daenerys thought. 

She knew that revealing that she was from the future was probably for the best, but having to keep parts of the plan, especially the involvement of the Starks, from Viserys could be a problem.

She just hoped that it wouldn’t come back to bite her later.

Even the letter for Jon that she gave to Viserys would mean quite a lot to Jon if he remembered her, but if almost anyone else would read it, it would just look weird, so there was no actual risk in Viserys reading it.

“I do want to know more about these people who you say are so important. I find it hard to believe that the Starks will help us of all people, even if we claim that father wasn’t justified in killing their lord, and prove that Lyanna loved our brother.”

The Long Night. We have the Dragons, and Jon will help me if he remembers. Bran already helped me reach this point, and Arya wants the Lannisters dead. Sansa is the problematic one.

“Even if the Starks and us want the Lannisters off the throne, what will stop them from declaring for one of the Baratheon brothers? I doubt Ned Stark spoke positively about us.” Viserys continued.

I know that back there Robb didn’t help Stannis, but that was because of his goal for Northern Independence. I’m mostly banking on making an entrance before they get the ideas, and my offer of Dornish spears and Dragons being too tempting to pass up, but… I know that Stannis used Red Magic to kill his brother. Was this before or after the independence declaration?

Daenerys thought about the order of events for a while before landing on an answer that will probably be satisfying for her brother. 

“None of the options were good. Joffrey was the one to kill Ned, Renly died when they were in negotiations with him, and Stannis Baratheon was… problematic. He killed his younger brother and burned the Weirwoods that are sacred in the North.”

Viserys’s eyes perked for a second before returning to their previous position. “Kinslaying. The Usurper's brother killing his own for power does not surprise me.” he said. 

Viserys then left for the day, going to instruct the envoys as Daenerys ordered. 

Chapter Text

Jon I

When the jaws came, he didn’t show any resistance. 

Even if Daenerys burned King’s Landing and endangered the whole realm, in the eyes of Drogon, Jon still killed his mother. 

And making an enemy of a dragon was a bad move. 

Even if he was north of the ruined wall, Drogon still found him. He was bigger than the last time Jon saw him, which was not that long ago. Jon thought he saw enough dragonfire for one lifetime, and as if obliging Jon, Drogon decided to kill him with his jaws instead of burning him alive.

There was nothing he could do. Drogon wasn’t someone he could reason with. 

He missed Daenerys too. He sometimes regretted killing her for personal reasons, but they were always overshadowed by what she did to King’s Landing. 

So he was a Queenslayer. And a Kinslayer. And here was Drogon’s justice for Jon killing his mother.

Jon could only hope that the cycle of revenge will not continue past that point. That Bran and Arya and Sansa will not hunt Drogon down. He suffered enough.

The world faded to black. He felt the cold feeling of lying in the snow.

He waited for some time. He felt like he was supposed to die, but… he died already. This was not what being dead felt like. 

This was just snow.

He tried moving, and, to his surprise, he could move. He was lying down, so he rose up, finding that he was indeed just lying in the snow.

What is going on here?

He looked around as a shiver crossed his body.

This is…

Jon was in Winterfell’s Godswood.

What am I doing here? I died, and if I actually survived Drogon, why would I be in Winterfell? And even if someone brought me to Winterfell, why would I be here?

Jon looked around some more. The Godswood looked better than it did even before the long night. It looked just like it did before Jon joined the Night’s Watch.

What… What is going on?

He walked among the woods until he saw another familiar figure wandering the place, seemingly just as confused as he was.

He looked more closely. “Arya?” He called.

His cousin noticed him. “Jon?! You’re here too?” she looked befuddled.

Arya looked at him weirdly, as if looking for something amiss. “You died? Again, I mean.” She asked.

Jon was surprised. “How do you know?” He looked down for any marks of Drogon’s bite, but there were none.

“I…” She looked to her side, clearly frustrated about something . 

“I also died. The only person who actually managed to sail the western sea was Elissa Farman, and her ship was a lot better than mine.” She said.

Jon remembered hearing a story about The Sun Chaser in passing once. It was said to be one of the best ships to exist. 

“Was it that bad?” he asked. “How did you die?”

“It wasn’t that bad in the beginning. The winds weren’t as bad as I was led to believe and we passed Lonely Light without a problem. It's what happened later that killed me.” She stopped, a frown forming on her face.

“The next stop were the last three recorded islands on the Sunset Sea, called Aegon, Rhaenys and Visenya, but before we even got there the storms got worse and worse.”

Jon has been through his fair share of strong storms, but he had the privilege of experiencing them on solid land. Getting stuck in one of these storms on a ship sounded like a nightmare.

“And then came the Kraken. It attacked the ship and now I’m here.” She said.

“What?” was everything that escaped Jon’s mouth. 

“I never actually thought they were real, but dragons also exist, so I guess I succeeded in learning what was west of Westeros…” She said with a gloomy expression.

“Drogon killed me. Probably as revenge for what I did to Dany.” 

Arya looked at him. “Do you know if Sansa and Bran are alright?” She asked.

“Haven’t seen them since I left for beyond the wall.” Jon answered.

“Well, I can answer that.” Jon heard another voice. 

Jon’s heart jumped. He didn’t hear that voice for quite a while, but then his heart sunk. Him being here means that he died as well.

“Bran!” Arya said, looking at the source of the voice.

Bran was there, standing on his legs. Both Jon and Arya were caught by surprise before remembering that they all died. There might as well not be any rules to this place.

If everyone who dies gets here, I wonder who else I can meet here… Jon’s thoughts immediately drifted to Daenerys, but then also to his father- uncle, Ned Stark. He wanted to ask him things about his mother, his father, all sorts of things that Ned told him they would talk about the next time they met. 

“Hey Jon, Arya,” he nodded to them. “I really hoped it wouldn’t come to this…”

Arya sighed. “You died as well? How long until we meet Sansa here too?” She asked with a grim expression.

“I’m not what you would call ‘dead’ in the normal way, and Sansa is fine for all I know. The Bran you saw when you were alive wasn’t really ‘me’. It was the three eyed crow, Brynden Rivers.”

Jon felt the surprise manifest on his face.

“What do you mean, ‘it wasn’t you’?” Arya asked, anger flaring in her voice. 

“He took over me. Pushed me to the back of my consciousness. Now I’m here, talking to you.”

“Is there anything we can do? We both died…” Jon said. He started thinking about anything that could somehow help Bran. 

His thoughts turned to the red woman, Melisandre, who brought him back from the dead, but it was no use. His body was somewhere beyond the wall, or perhaps Drogon burned it. Arya’s body was somewhere inside the sunset sea, and even if they had their bodies, the red woman disappeared after the long night. 

“There is one thing you can do.” Bran said, as if reading Jon’s mind. 

“I think I have the ability to send people into the past. Almost like how warging works, except into your past selves.” He said.

Jon was, again, surprised, but it wasn’t the first time he would be resurrected.

Arya’s eyes lit up. “You said we could go into the past? How far back? Can we change things? Save Robb, and mother and father?” she asked enthusiastically, as if she returned to be the excitable little girl she was when they left Winterfell for the first time.

“And Rickon,” Jon addad, remembering the sight of the little kid being shot in front of him. “And Daenerys.” he decided to say. 

Arya looked at him with a weird look on her face. “She burned King’s Landing. She killed thousands. You want to save her?”

“She lost her dragons, her armies, her friends. The losses made her do that. If we can save these people, we can prevent King’s Landing from being burned, and she could have the Iron Throne.” Jon replied.

“I know her, Arya. She’s a good person. She could’ve taken the throne soon after she landed in Westeros if she didn’t abandon everything and sent her armies to us.” He tried to convince his cousin- it was still weird to think of her, of any of the Starks as cousins and not siblings. 

Jon tried to convince the woman who learned how to be a faceless assassin to not assassinate the woman he loved.

Arya had a skeptic look on her face. “Fine. I will give her a chance, but if I think she’s going to go mad again, I will kill her.” she shot a stern look at Jon.

“Well, I already had that talk with her.” Bran said in a matter-of-fact way. “She died first so I thought to try this with her.”

Both Arya and Jon shot him a look of surprise now. 

“I don’t know how far back I sent her, or even if I managed to, but she was dead, and she was really broken once she realized what she actually did in King’s Landing. She and I had nothing to lose, so we tried it.”

We too have nothing to lose and everything to gain from this. 

“I think that, just to be sure, I will try to send myself as well this time. So that if any one of you or Daenerys will have any problems actually landing in the past, I could try to help.” He said.

“What about Sansa?” Jon Asked. 

“She herself didn’t have any enemies left. She’s the queen of a united north. I at least hope that she won't die anytime soon,” He said. “It’s our lives that had shitty endings. Not hers. At least, not to the same degree as ours…”

Jon stayed quiet, head full of the new possibilities arousing from returning to the past. 

“So to summarise, you would try to send all three of us to some point in the past, be it yesterday or to mother’s womb, so that we can change the future?” Arya asked.

“These examples are a tad extreme, but yes.” Bran’s voice said in return.

“Well, we have nothing else to do, and I can’t think of any negative that outweighs the positives.” Jon said.

“It’s decided then,” Arya said. “Send us back, Bran.”

“Just one thing. If any of us don’t remember what happened until now, try to help them remember. And the world might be a bit different since I already sent Daenerys into the past, and I don’t know what changes she made.”

“Different… how?” Arya asked, her voice distrustful.

“I don’t know how far back I sent her, but she promised to try and save our family if she can.”

Jon’s eyes, along with Arya’s, opened in surprise. Jon then steeled himself, and Arya did the same. 

“Send us back, Bran.” Jon said.

He had a sense of anticipation in him. He could meet Robb again. Perhaps even save him. Ned Stark’s face also flashed in front of him. He could try to save his uncle too. He already mentioned Ricken, and swore an oath to himself to not let him be endangered like that ever again.

Before the world faded to black, his thoughts went to Daenerys. He wanted to save her too. From herself.

Jon II

It was a quiet morning in Winterfell, until the sound of clashing objects broke the silence. 

Two young men clashed practice blades with each other. They just started sparring. Jon Snow would need to know the sword when he got to the wall, and Robb Stark needed to know it as lord of Winterfell. 

The two young men looked at eachother, examining each other’s movements before trying to strike. 

Jon and Robb sparred for a while before Jon noticed Arya, hiding and looking at them spar. That realization almost lost him the mock duel against Robb, barely blocking a hit with his wooden blade. 

A short hour passed before the two took a break from striking at each other with pieces of wood.

Robb and Jon both walked toward Arya, who was looking at them with an envious stare. 

It was then when a stranger approached Jon. “Might you be Jon Snow?” he asked. He had a light accent that Jon didn’t recognize.

“Aye, I am,” He answered. “Who’s asking?”

“Just an envoy. I have a message to you.” The man said, producing a letter. 

Jon was surprised. Who would send him anything? If he was a legitimate Stark like his half-siblings he might get marriage proposals, but he was a bastard.

He cautiously took the letter. There was no name on it. He then shot a look at the man. “Who is this from?” He asked.

“I don’t know. I was only told to ask you if you have something to return to the sender after you read it.” The man answered earnestly.

Jon’s curiosity rose. He didn’t know what to think about this, but he opened the letter and looked at its contents:

Jon

I remember. I hope you remember too. I’m sorry for what happened. 

I have all three of them again. I’m coming back soon. A lot sooner than before.

Don’t take the black.

Dany

Jon just stood there. He didn’t know what to make of it.

Dany… that name sounds… familiar. They remember what exactly? And they’re sorry for it?

Jon felt unwelcome and out of place for his entire life. Having someone saying that they are coming from him, and that they are sorry, as well as knowing about his desire to join the Night’s Watch…

Jon felt a headache looking at that letter. Just the name in the bottom right of the paper made him go nauseous. 

He felt a feeling of love and regret when looking at a name he didn’t know.

He felt like he should understand the letter he got. He felt like he should know this ‘Dany’ person.

They said not to take the black, and that they are coming… 

Maybe… maybe it’s my mother, or someone who knows her. I… 

Jon contemplated asking his father, Ned Stark, about the letter. But he decided not to. Ned didn’t like to discuss Jon’s past.

He thought about the envoy, who was waiting for something to return to the sender, probably this ‘Daenerys’.

Daenerys? Where did that come from?

He somehow knew that Dany was a short for Daenerys. He didn’t know how.

Jon went through everything he knew, thinking back to a name similar to ‘Daenerys’.

He only managed to think of one thing. Targaryen. Their names sounded like that.

But there was no way that a Targaryen would just contact him of all people.

But his name was on the parchment.

Daenerys Targaryen… Jon’s headache remained.

Who is Daenerys Targaryen?

Memories flooded in. 

He remembered a hall. Wide and beautiful. Dragonstone . He thought, even if he didn’t know how he knew it. He remembered the cold of a blizzard. Then, memories came in rapidly. A dimly lit room. The sky. Flight. Night.

Then he remembered her. Violet eyes. White-blond hair. The smell of smoke. The heat of fire.

Daenerys Targaryen.

Jon knew Daenerys. He didn’t know the man who gave him the latter, but he might be the only current connection to whatever was happening.

“I do have something to give to the sender.” Jon told the man through his headache. “I just have to go and grab it.” 

Jon ran to try and clean his head and to get a piece of parchment.

The timeline sat a bit more clearly in his mind after relaxing for a moment or two.

He remembered joining the Night’s Watch. These weren’t the clearest memories, but the name on the letter, Daenerys, actually helped him with whatever was going on.

He remembered having a battle with someone. He didn’t really remember who, but he knew he was willing to kill them over something.

He remembered seeing a queen in the halls of a castle. He remembered sharing love with her, riding… a dragon? Through the sky with her. 

He remembered a long fight against hordes of dead men. Ones that walked.

And finally, he remembered a burned city. He remembered stabbing someone he loved.

His memories weren’t clear, but he did remember the mother of dragons.

She sent me a message. She remembers too. She said so.

She’s… Sorry for what happened? The memories of burning, smoldering ruins of a city entered his mind. 

Three of them… She had three dragons. He remembered that. He even remembered riding one of them.

She’s coming back… soon? Jon remembered her arriving, but it was in his future. Thinking about it made his headache even worse.

She said that she was coming sooner than ‘before’, but ‘before’ was years from now… What does she mean?

He needed to quickly write a reply. He didn’t know where to find Daenerys and if the man who delivered the message would stay for long.

He thought about the words he wanted to use. The city he remembered was a southern one, that he knew. No Northern place was built like that. He remembered a large, red building on the horizon.

His eyes widened with shock.

King’s Landing. Something happened in King’s Landing.

Dany 

I remember you, somehow, but the memories are hazy.

I am sorry for what I did, or at least what I think I did.

If you have the dragons again, what exactly do you plan to do with them? 

Would King’s Landing repeat itself?

You said that you were coming ‘soon’. How soon exactly?

Please, talk to me.

Jon Snow

That was the hasty reply he wrote for the man before he might disappear. 

There were more things he wanted to write, to ask, to know.

But for now, he had to hope that Dany would actually send him another message.

He walked off to where the man was and handed him the latter. 

“Take that back to the sender. With however much speed you can muster.” he told the man, who only nodded in return before walking away, letter in stow.

Jon then noticed Robb walking towards him.

“Who was that?” he asked.

Jon didn’t know why , but he had a weird feeling when he looked at Robb. A feeling of…

Nostalgia. 

Even if he saw him a couple of moments earlier, Jon still felt like he missed Robb for a long time.

What happened in the future?

“It was nothing.” Jon said as he walked towards the great hall of Winterfell, to eat breakfast with his family.

Jon spent his time thinking. 

He somehow had memories of the future, that he knew. 

He knew he met a Targaryen queen by the name of Daenerys.

He knew that they loved each other. He felt that he did, at least.

Jon hazily remembered killing her. He knew that something happened in King’s Landing that made him do that.

He remembered riding a green dragon, one of three that she arrived in Westeros with.

But he barely remembered anything else.

Jon made the decision not to tell Lord Eddard about that letter for now. He needed to remember more details about this woman before actually talking to someone.

Jon needed to know what was going to happen.

He could only hope to remember soon.

Chapter Text

          Daenerys IV

“The envoy you wanted to go to Winterfell is back. He has this letter for you,” He said. “I have not opened it, although I do wish to know what it is that you are discussing with the bastard of Eddard Stark.”

Daenerys walked towards Viserys, who was holding the letter from Jon.

She expected to find something like ‘Who are you?’ or a similar response. The Jon she knew would understand the contents of the letter, but she tried to make it as vague as possible in case he doesn’t remember or that someone else gets the letter.

The only thing she actually wrote there that Jon would understand either way is to not join the Night’s Watch. It would be problematic for her, and even if she used her position and released him from the Watch’s oath when they landed on Westeros, it would still be a problematic look.

She did have hope that her latter awakened some sort of memories in Jon or caused something similar. 

Dany 

I remember you, somehow, but the memories are hazy.

I am sorry for what I did, or at least what I think I did.

If you have the dragons again, what exactly do you plan to do with them? 

Would King’s Landing repeat itself?

You said that you were coming ‘soon’. How soon exactly?

Please, talk to me.

Jon Snow

The first thing she felt was relief. The fact that she was not alone in remembering the future was comforting, and it was even better that it was Jon who remembered. 

He wrote that his memories are ‘hazy’, but how much? He did mention King’s Landing, so he probably remembered what I did there…

Daenerys shivered at the thought of the burnt city filled with corpses. She looked to Drogon, who was as big as a cat now. 

He said that he is feeling sorry, but that he isn’t sure about what… Probably stabbing me. Daenerys sighed.

At least I have someone who remembers and is seemingly on my side.

She looked at her brother, who’s face had a curious look. She would be somewhat truthful, and she would try to direct the conversation to something that she wanted to discuss.

“Viserys. Jon Snow was my biggest ally in the future I saw.” 

If it wasn’t for him telling me about the dead, I’d probably not be here right now. 

“He rallied the North and the Vale to my side when I attacked King’s Landing, although that attack didn’t go as well as I hoped.”

That is to say it lightly…

“What do you mean by ‘it didn’t go well’? Didn’t you have the Dragons?” He asked, bewildered. 

“Viserys, what do you remember of our father?” she asked in return.

“What does that have to do with anything?” he asked, but he still started speaking about their father, Aerys II.

“Father taught me everything about being a Targaryen. About our family. About the Dragons.” his eyes drifted towards the little creatures.

“What I saw is King’s Landing burning. Father hid stacks and stacks of Wildfire right beneath the city. Attacking King’s Landing with the dragons will cause an enormous number of deaths.”

If he is going to ride Viserion, He needed to know this. And I don’t actually lie by saying that. Even without Drogon covering the city with fire, the Wildfire itself can still do a lot of damage. 

“When we take the throne, the first thing we need to do is to carefully remove it. I don’t think I need to explain why having dragons and Wildfire close to each other is a bad idea, much less in a city as big as King’s Landing.”

“Huh…” Viserys’s face showed a blank look. Daenerys couldn’t figure out what he was thinking about, but then he shook himself.

“I will remember that. Burning King’s Landing will not lead to anything good.” 

Daenerys pondered the way he spoke. It made her think that something was not right with him.

Viserys held father on a pedestal. Maybe what I said shattered the image Viserys had in mind, or… maybe he thinks father was onto something with the idea of burning King’s Landing… The thought made her shudder.

She looked at Jon’s letter again.

Would King’s Landing repeat itself?

No. I’m going to make sure that it won’t happen again.

Should I try to write him more things? He said he only half remembers some of what happened. Maybe writing to him will remind him more?

Daenerys weighed her options. 

No, I should wait until I am in Dorne. It’s for the best if the letters won’t just switch hands to reach me.

          Viserys III

Around a month ago, Viserys held himself in pretty high regard. He was the rightful ruler of the seven kingdoms, the last true Dragon, and the person who will retake the Iron Throne from the Usurper who sat it after stealing it from his father.

Ever since then, his self value was degraded by several degrees. 

He always viewed his sister as a weak girl who didn’t actually know who they were and what his dreams and rights meant.

Now he looked to her to see what a real Targaryen was like. He was stuck with Illyrio in the Manse while his sister was constantly with the Dragons. 

That ‘new sister’ he got all of the sudden just suddenly came with a confidence boost, three dragons and a plan to conquer Westeros.

It was both exhilarating and infuriating at the same time. He was getting what he wanted, which was a path to the Iron Throne, as well as a dragon as magnificent as Viserion, but…

It was Daenerys’s plan. And as much as he liked to think of Viserion as his dragon, he remembered his sister telling him that Viserion was hers. 

He felt like a side piece in his own conquest.

The good news was that he will have a task that he will excel in. One that would be imperative to his retaking of the Iron throne. 

It has been around a month since the day that he sent the letter to house Martell of Dorne, as well as the different letter for Winterfell and the man sent to the citadel to retrieve Rhaegar’s marriage certificate.

He already showed Daenerys the letter from Winterfell, but now the envoy from Dorne finally returned with the Martell’s reply to Illyrio’s Manse.

The envoy returning from Sunspear gave Viserys a much needed ego boost. 

It may have been his sister’s plan, but he was the one who was in contact with the Dornish. It was his part.

The letter bore the sun piercing spear of house Martell. The only reason that their letter was not sent with their own seal, the three headed dragon, was in case the letter fell into the wrong hands.

The letter was also precise, and it went as such:

To Prince Viserys Targaryen.

I am most pleased that the Targaryens are willing to follow up on the marriage proposal sealed by Ser Willem Darry and my brother Oberyn. My daughter Arianne would like to hear that.

I, too, share the same sentiment over my sister Elia’s murder, and am happy to hear that house Targaryen has not forgotten about the injustice done to her and to little Rhaenys and Aegon either.

My brother, Oberyn Martell, is on his way to meet you in Pentos. He will take you back to Westeros, to meet me in the Water Gardens here in Dorne. He will arrive a few days after the message, as you were keen to meet with a trusted member of our family with urgency.

I wish you and your sister well, and hope that we meet soon,

Prince Doran Martell of Dorne

Viserys read the letter. Then another time, and then another. 

He knew nothing about already being engaged to Arianne Martell by Ser Willem Derry, and he remembered him. 

Must be another one of Daenerys’s many wise perceptions… he thought, but even knowing that his sister leveraged him like a pawn in a pact he knew nothing about didn’t diminish his excitement. 

He was going home. They were going home. To Westeros. With the Dragons.

The moment he dreamt on for sixteen years would come to fruition, except it would be grander than all of his dreams then. 

Daenerys was actually surprised when she saw the letter.

“I had no idea Ser Willem actually betrothed you to Arianne,” she said. “That is very convenient.”

Viserys was surprised to learn that there was something that Daenerys didn’t know about their situation.

At least it’s something that wouldn’t turn the situation for the worse. 

Viserys would rather that his sister not know something beneficial for her plans rather than encounter an unknown obstacle.

The dragons themselves already showed signs of growth. Daenerys had to move where she was staying a couple of times, but it did not affect the dragons, or so it seemed.

A different feeling rose up in Viserys. Worry.

“Sister, do you think that the dragons are ready to move by sea? I know you said that we need to get to Dorne as soon as possible, but I am worried about the dragons’ well being…”

Viserys actually started getting close to the little creatures. His and Viserion's bond felt natural, but all the Dragons seemed naturally attracted to Daenerys. He assumed that it made sense, since she hatched them, but it still made him feel… lesser.

But it wasn’t as bad as it seemed.

Viserys went to the grass close to his sister and sat. Viserion moved towards him, and even Rhaegal and Drogon looked at him curiously. 

His bond with the little dragon made him feel the connection to the family he hailed from the most he ever had. Or, at least, ever since his mother, queen Rhaella, died.

In truth, Viserys was happy. Early in his life, he resigned himself to one day carry himself back to the throne, the last dragon after his mother, father and big brother died. 

Even if he felt that he wasn’t the one behind the effort to reclaim the throne, he was happy to have another person who knew the weight of the Targaryen name with him. 

Daenerys was… less guarded about the dragons then she was originally. 

The more time Viserys spent with the dragons he understood that, living legends they may be, they were living creatures first and foremost, and now he would presumably be able to spend more time raising them with Daenerys in Dorne. 

Most of what he did the last month was making sure that no one actually found Daenerys, and getting the dragons and her food. 

Viserys took a piece of meat and threw it in the air. He knew what was going to happen already. 

Before Viserion or Rhaegal could move, Drogon’s mouth opened for the flames, and the black and red dragon jumped at the piece of meat. Drogon was bigger than the other dragons, but Viserys believed that size wasn’t everything.

And anyway, Viserion just looks better. He thought to himself as he took another two pieces of meat, feeding the other two dragons.

“We need to make preparations to get to Dorne. The dragons will be fine on a ship. They are still in their early stages, so the most important thing now is the food we give them.” Daenerys said.

Viserys nodded, more reassured. 

“If you think of anything important to do before we go to Dorne, do it quickly, and notify Illyrio that if the envoy we sent to Oldtown arrives, that they should deliver anything they have to us in Sunspear.”

Viserys looked at the Dragons, all still eating their meat. He nodded to his sister, rose up, and rode away back to Illyrio.

It was then in the night where he saw something that picked his interest. Viserys knew that according to prince Doran’s letter, the Martells were coming in a few days, but he was waiting for a different person. 

The other person Daenerys wanted him to send to Oldtown have not yet returned, and so he was waiting near the entrance to the Manse when he saw a man wearing a cloak entering and walking straight to Illyrio.

Viserys also made his way towards the Magisters room when he saw Illyrio walking out of it, lantern in one hand and letter in the other. In the lantern’s light, Viserys did manage to see the Magister’s face. 

Illyrio is worried about something.

He was then surprised when he saw Illyrio walking towards the room he gave to him. Viserys approached from behind.

“Are you looking for me?” Viserys asked the Magister.

“Your highness,” Illyrio said, seemingly surprised to encounter Viserys out of his room. He quickly tucked the letter into some part of his clothes. “I was interested in the contents of the letters you exchanged with house Martell.”

Viserys thought for a second. There was no reason to hide that they were going to Dorne, as they were about to depart in a couple of days and Illyrio would know. 

“Me and my sister are going to Dorne. A marriage arrangement between me and Princess Arianne Martell of Dorne was arranged by Ser Willem Darry, and I think that there’s no better time to follow that arrangement.” Viserys said with pride. 

For a moment, Viserys thought that he saw what color it had drained from the Magister’s face.

“Willem Darry…” Illyrio whispered, as if his thoughts came out of his mouth.

“And surely your highness wouldn’t just declare war on the rest of the kingdoms immediately upon arrival?” He asked. There was something that Viserys couldn’t detect in his voice. Some subtle tone.

“No. We thought it best to wait a while for an opportune moment.” Viserys said, not going to tell the Magister about his sister’s Vision. 

Illyrio’s face seemed to relax. “That is… Good to know,” He looked at Viserys. “It is good to know that the Seven Kingdoms will soon be at the hands of their rightful ruler.” he said before excusing himself and walking away.

Something about the Magister’s behavior intrigued Viserys. Or rather, it made him Illyrio suspicious in his eyes. 

He got a letter and immediately went to check on me? And the way he said Ser Willem’s name…

Viserys knew that he shouldn’t, but he decided to follow the Magister as he departed. He felt like Illyrio was hiding things from him, and he didn’t like being treated like that. He was fine with his sister since she had reasons of the magical kind. He had reason enough to discern that. 

He followed the Magister as he walked towards the storehouses of the Manse.

Viserys was able to see the ship bearing the Martell Sigil docking at the harbor.

He quickly went to prepare himself. He had to look the best to make a good first impression. He had to look like a Targaryen.

They would understand about Daenerys. She was raising Dragons by herself. 

He went into the storehouse he followed Illyrio into to take the gift that the magister prepared for him. He may have intended to bestow it upon him when he was leaving, but Viserys decided to take it earlier for a good first impression.

Illyrio would surely understand why I did this.

The man mentioned in the latter, Oberyn Martell, and a dornish entourage arrived at Illyrio’s Manse.

“Prince Oberyn,” Viserys started. “It is great to see you. Thank you for responding to the letter I sent so quickly.”

Oberyn returned the greeting. “Of course. House Martell is an ally of your cause.” He looked around. “You mentioned your sister in the letter, Princess Daenerys. Is she here?” He asked.

Viserys smiled. “Her situation is a bit more complex. It is why we asked to meet with the most trustworthy of you. I will take you to meet her soon.” He said. He tried to hold his excitement back. He was closer than ever to going home.

The Magister quickly came to see them, but as he saw Viserys, he was shocked, Viserys could’ve sworn he was almost choking. 

“Magister!” Viserys turned to him. “I must thank you for the gift. Truly worthy of a Targaryen king. I just took the liberty of taking it out a bit early. Your kindness will be rewarded when I sit the Iron Throne.”

The talk about the gift made Oberyn also check Viserys’s waist, where it was hanging.

Blackfyre , the ancestral sword of house Targaryen held by Aegon the conqueror himself hung from Viserys’s waist. He found it in the storehouse that Illyrio walked into after the Dornish sent their reply.

Too bad Daenerys doesn’t have Dark Sister … But still, one sword is better than none.

He unsheathed the sword, the ripples in its Valyrian Steel blade catching the eye. Oberyn looked at it curiously as Viserys sheathed it again. He didn’t want to just take it out like that. He needed to be careful. There was nothing sharper than Valyrian steel.

“Now,” Viserys said. “I think we should go to meet with my sister. Bring only your most trusted men.” Viserys said and walked towards the outside to take a horse and ride. 

Someone else is going to see the dragons. This is the point of no return.

It was the expected reaction. Oberyn, Viserys and a group of Dornish women dubbed ‘The Sand Snakes’ who were Oberyn’s Bastard daughters, all rode to meet with Daenerys on the flatlands outside Pentos. 

When seeing Daenerys for the first time after she was in the flatlands for a full month, Viserys was sure that The Red Viper and the Sand Snakes were thinking ‘Is she really a Targaryen Princess?’

But when they saw the Dragons…

“Dracarys!” Daenerys commanded. The word for Dragonfire. The three little creatures all breathed fire at once, creating a spectacle of flames.

“We need a place safe from prying eyes to raise the dragons. This place is only temporary, but I thought you may be able to harbor us in Dorne. That is why we sent the letter with such urgency.” Daenerys said to Oberyn.
The Red Viper nodded and looked at his bastards. “We will move our ship to the south of Pentos and move the dragons there at night.” He looked at Viserys. “We would do everything we can to conceal your location in Dorne. Dragons are too valuable to risk. You did well to contact us.”

The Plan moved on. Some of the Sand Snakes were kept near Daenerys, to secure her and start moving south, while Oberyn himself went to direct the ship.

Before the night came, Daenerys walked towards him. “How did you get Blackfyre?” She asked. 

“Illyrio had it. He prepared to give it to me when I went out with the Dornish, but I decided to take it a bit earlier, just to make a good impression.” He then proceeded to ask her a question. “Wasn’t it a part of your vision?”

His sister nodded her head. “He didn’t give it to you in the time I saw.”

“Weird. But no need to ponder that now. We have it. We have the Dragons, and we’re going home. That is what matters most.”

“Home, huh…” Daenerys’s voice was weird, as if reminiscing. 

“It’s your first time there ever since you were born, and even that was on Dragonstone. It’s a great place, Westeros.” he said as reassuringly as he was able to.

They move at night. Just like Oberyn said, the Sand Snakes escorted them and the Dragons to a small boat. They steered it to get to the ship which was still at sea, so as to not let anyone in Pentos see the Dragons. 

Viserys was finally on a ship, on the way to the other side of the Narrow Sea.

Chapter Text

Things have escalated quickly over here.

The spares moved south back towards you. 

The vipers have them. They made plans unknown to us with the old man who had them once.

According to them, they will keep doing as their allies did since the change.

What should we tell Griff? Is it time?

A change of plans is imminent.

Daenerys V

Daenerys has never actually been to Dorne. She knew it was mostly located in a desert, so she instinctively thought about the red waste, the desert she was wandering through with her Khalasar when the dragons only hatched.

But she was now only approaching Dorne. First, she had to get through the Narrow Sea. 

The sea breeze and its smell brought back memories. Of her way to Westeros for the first time. Of Dragonstone.

“Can you feel it, Dany? We’re going home.” Her brother said to her. They were on the ship that Oberyn Martell brought to pick them up.

Viserys was probably the happiest Daenerys had ever seen him, and she couldn’t blame him one bit. They had Dragons, he had Blackfyre and he was going to marry a Dornish princess and get an army to get the throne back. It was more than he ever imagined he'd get.

“Yeah… Home.” Daenerys said, not paying her full attention. She barely saw Westeros when she was there.

After I take the throne, I should probably fly with Drogon across the kingdoms. Make a visit to the cities. I’d have the excuse of visiting the lords I rule…

Viserys opened his mouth, like he wanted to speak about something, probably something about his time in Westeros, but he then closed his mouth, looking rather shocked.

“What is it?” Daenerys asked, her interest somewhat piqued. 

“I remembered something about home, but… it’s not the best thing to talk about.” Viserys looked to their sides. The Dragons themselves were currently below the ship’s deck, and after noting that, Viserys turned to her again. 

“I wanted to tell you about how I wanted to see the Dragon Skulls that father showed me, but now it just feels wrong…” he said.

“Do you remember other parts of home?” she asked him, trying to get his mind off of the long-dead remains of their Dragons’ family.

“Only the Red Keep and Dragonstone. I remember what Father told me about our family, I remember Rhaegar’s Harp and mother on Dragonstone giving birth to you, but that was a long time ago…” He said, clearly longing back to these memories.

“Some of the best things father told me were what this,” Viserys said before unsheathing Blackfyre. “Did.”

The sword’s black blade was full of ripples. It looked like Longclaw, the sword that Jon had when she met him, and like some other weapons that she saw, like the dagger that killed the Night King.

“Viserys, put that down, this is extremely dangerous.” She was speaking with alarm. She remembered what she heard about Valyrian steel. It was ever-sharp and deadlier than almost all other weapons. 

She remembered how she saw Jon cleanly tear the undead apart with Longclaw when she flew to rescue him.

Daenerys was afraid since Viserys was never actually trained with a sword. Holding that one for the first time was like asking for a death wish at the first mistake he’ll make.

Viserys looked a bit reluctant, but he heard the alarm in his sister’s voice and relented, carefully sheathing Blackfyre.

“Get some formal training with a sword when we get to Dorne, ok? These things never lose their edge and getting careless with it might leave you with one less arm…” She said. Daenerys didn’t do all of this work to drag Viserys to Dorne and marry him to Arianne just for him to get hurt. 

Viserys then went to the front of the ship, intending to gaze towards their destination, probably longing for Westerosy soil.

Daenerys was a bit nervous. She hoped not to screw this time. 

Her instructions were clear. She and Viserys had to meet with Doran Martell at a secretive place to show him the dragons, and Oberyn sent two of his daughters to secure a meeting before going to shore himself. Daenerys and Viserys would stay on the ship until they could have their secret meeting. 

Daenerys felt no need to alert anyone’s spy network about their arrival to Westeros, and much less about her Dragons.

Daenerys couldn’t blame Oberyn for not keeping them company until they would meet with Prince Doran. Having to sail all the way to Pentos only to immediately double back (so as to not risk any more time where the Dragons could be seen by anyone) was exhausting. 

Viserys seemed a bit nervous, which was unlike him. He usually displayed confidence in all matters regarding the Iron Throne. 

The situation piqued Daenerys’s interest, so she went to talk to him. When he spotted her, he started talking with a quiet tone.

“Did that vision of yours tell you anything about Arianne Martell?”

Ah. 

That explains it. Now I got to put you in the position of marrying someone you never met. Except you know she’s a princess. When you told me I had to marry someone, the only thing you told me is that he’s a murderer who fucks horses… You have it easy this time.

“No, actually. Even in the future I saw, I never actually met her.” Daenerys answered honestly. 

“Great.” Viserys runted. He quickly looked at Daenerys. “I’m not complaining!” he said rather hastily, probably not wanting to sound like he disagrees with her plan.

“I am just a bit frustrated that I have to marry someone I did not meet or know before.”

Oh, you’re one to talk. She thought.

“Even in political marriages there’s some love involved.” She said. “Even if people marry out of duty, they can still form a great relationship after. Just give it a chance.” she said. She could develop a relationship with Drogo, so her brother would be able to do so with Arianne… if he tried hard enough.

They moved at night. The Dragons were stored inside some crates, for safety against watchful eyes if any existed, and they got to shore, advancing towards a meeting place just outside of the Water Gardens.

Daenerys noticed the Palanquin first.

“Listen. When we meet them, you should express your happiness to see them and your gratitude for their help.” Daenerys told Viserys in a voice high enough to barely be heard. 

Her brother replied with a nod.

Oberyn and his daughters sat to the right of the Palanquin, and three other people sat on its left side. Some guards were also in the area, but the presence was minimal. It seems that Oberyn’s message to Doran was taken to heart.

The prince of Dorne wore a linen robe and sat inside of the Palanquin. When they came close, Viserys spoke like he was instructed.

“Prince Doran. Before we begin any sort of talk, allow me to express my thanks. It is a delight to speak with you in person.” 

The light from the moon and the torches around the area gave Viserys a more majestic look, with the glow of the fire and the silver light of the moon both reflecting from his hair. A young woman sitting to Doran’s left, whom Daenerys assumed to be Arianne, examined Viserys thoroughly as she could.

“We are honored to meet you, and we thank you for your willingness to meet with us outside of the Water Gardens,” Daenerys said. 

One of Doran’s men walked towards them holding two bowls, one with pieces of bread and the other with salt. The traditional provisions used to symbolize guest rights.

“Prince Viserys, Princess Daenerys. I am honored to meet you as well. Please,” He gestured with his hands towards the man holding the bowls. 

Viserys and Daenerys both partook in the bread, which symbolized them as guests of house Martell. Only one house that she heard of broke guest rights ‘recently’, and they have still yet to do that. She doubted that anything the Dornish would do now will actually harm them, at least on purpose. 

Nobody would get as low as the Freys did during the war, in that she was sure.

Pleasantries were exchanged. Doran’s children were introduced. Trystane looked nice enough. He was Doran’s youngest child. His next son, Quentyn, looked eerily familiar to a frog.

Lastly, there was Arianne. She looked beautiful, and her face carried a calculating expression. 

Daenerys noticed that Viserys’s face seemed more at ease after seeing his wife-to-be.

“If I may, I would like to show you the reason we asked for the meeting to be held in such secrecy.” Daenerys said as she moved towards the crates with the Dragons. Daenerys knew that she had to present the Dragons in a way that would leave as much impression as she could on the dornish.

“As you know, our goal is to restore the Targaryen dynasty’s hold on the Iron Throne,” Daenerys said.

“And there is no symbol of Targaryen legitimacy more prominent than Dragons.” She said as she opened the crate, only for Drogon to rear his head out.

At that action, all faces showed visible reactions. Viserys obviously smiled with the joy he experienced from seeing the dragons, while Oberyn and the Sand Snakes looked at the Dragon in owe. Unlike prince Doran and his children, they spent time on the ship and were expecting the dragons.

Daenerys didn’t let more than a second go to waste before saying “ Dracarys! ”. As a reaction, Drogon’s jaw released a small but very visible column of flames into the air. 

The faces of the crowd were unchanging as Daenerys went to the other two crates and opened them Rhaegal was asleep, but Viserion was up and stayed by Daenerys’s side along with Drogon as both walked towards the Dornish onlookers. At that point, Viserion went towards Viserys.

Daenerys spoke again before anyone could talk and disrupt her.

“They hatched not two moons ago and are already showing signs of growth,” Daenerys said. “It will take them some time before they could be ridden, but they will get there.”

Prince Doran was the first to move his eyes from the Dragons and looked at the Targaryen siblings.

“We were certain that the Dragons went extinct. I’m glad to know that that is not the case.” The prince said with a smile. “Dorne will be happy to help you raise the Dragons. Taking the other six kingdoms would be much easier with them.”

Daenerys and Viserys both nodded, and Daenerys replied to the prince of Dorne. “As the one of us,” She pointed to herself and Viserys “Who will be more concerned with their growth, it is reassuring to know that you stand by us.” 

An understanding seemed to be reached. Daenerys used that moment to politely announce to the Dornish that she was the one behind everything to do with the dragons.

“There is just one thing to note before proceeding. No one should approach the dragons without both asking me first and gaining permission. They may accidentally burn you.” She said with a matter-of-factly tone.

Daenerys could have sworn that she saw Quentyn recalling, but that may have only been her imagination.

“I will make sure that no one will do that.” Doran said.

They quickly reached an agreement. As to not let anyone know that they were in Westeros, Daenerys, Viserys and the Dragons would live in a designated area close enough to the water gardens. The area’s borders will be secretly watched in case of anyone unauthorized by Doran or Oberyn trying to set foot in it. 

Daenerys notably asked for there not to be an official declaration about anything to do with the area as to not attract attention. 

The area was close enough to the Water Gardens so that Viserys could ride there on horseback and that anyone authorized to meet them like Arianne or Oberyn would be able to get there rather quickly.

Daenerys knew that it was a fine arrangement, since the Dragons won’t be able to fly high for at least some time, so there was a lot less risk of them being seen by anyone.

Their new place was a lot better than living in the flatlands outside Pentos. There were actually a couple of household members that Doran trusted enough to serve them when they were in their new house. They were royalty, after all, and the Martells were not just going to leave them unattended.

They got a small house in the beginning, but work on a larger one was starting at full speed. A place that would be more fit for their stay in Dorne.

They were even able to ask for things they wanted in the house, which Daenerys took full advantage of. She asked for a courtyard with a lemon tree, since she knew they were able to grow in Dorne. 

Viserys also asked for some things, but Daenerys wasn’t really sure what he wanted. She had business with other people who would be part of the household that would serve them.

Her first request (outside of the lemon tree, of course) was a steady supply of meat for the Dragons. She knew how much they were supposed to eat at any given moment since she already raised them once, but now she would have around two years that she could spend raising them until the war starts, instead of going to abolish slavery. 

She was going to take an army to Slaver’s Bay and burn the slavers again, but there were other matters to deal with first. That's what she told herself. She was going to do it as a queen this time, with the backing of Westeros. 

Life in Dorne started fitting more and more into an everyday routine, which Daenerys was more than fine with.

Daenerys would wake up in the morning and spend time with the Dragons and Viserys, who was also eager to connect with the little creatures. They would feed them, walk with them, see them trying (and quickly managing) to fly. 

“The Targaryens after Aegon’s conquest had caretakers for their dragons. We don’t have that luxury. We need to do that ourselves.” She often told Viserys, who readily agreed. He looked better than she ever remembered him looking during the time he was spending with the Dragons.

In the afternoon, Daenerys and her brother had different tasks. Daenerys mostly focused on the politics of the Seven Kingdoms, learning about the noble houses. She was going to enter the Game of Thrones soon, and she was not going to do it blindly. 

Viserys, however, spent his time wielding a training sword in their new courtyard. He wanted to learn how to use the sword of the conqueror itself, but when he tried to use Blackfyre , he accidentally missed his target, cleanly split a hard stone brick in two and decided that until he is certain he can use a sword without missing as much and accidentally hurting himself, he should train with an actual training sword and later a blunt blade.

Daenerys herself also trained for the purposes of self-defense. She was not going to be fighting on any front line without riding Drogon, but she was going to be completely helpless either.

They would often have visitors like Arianne, who tried to know Viserys better, as well as Oberyn and the sand snakes, who came to check up on them often. 

The first time they came, Daenerys asked for a couple of things from them. The first was to try and find the person that Ellyrio sent to the citadel in Oldtown. She didn’t specify what were the documents that she had him gather for her, because the Dornish didn’t need to know that, but it wasn’t the only thing she asked for.

Both to mask the true purpose of Illyrio’s envoy and to help in her task of raising the dragons, she asked that, if possible, records of Dragons and their caretakers be brought to her.

Oberyn seemed more than happy to oblige, telling her that he already has a person working for him inside the citadel, and in around a month’s time, the text, as well as a proof of Rhaegar’s marriage to Lianna Stark were brought to her. 

She hid the records of Rhaegar’s marriage so as to not let anyone in Dorne find out about it, at least for now, but she wasn’t sure how well this was going to work.

She was studying the texts about the Dragons during the afternoons alongside with the history and politics of the Seven Kingdoms.

One day, Viserys came to her with a serious glance and started speaking. 

“Sister, I know that your plan has worked so far, with us coming to Dorne, but from what Oberyn and Arianne tell me, the Kingdoms are stable. There is no sign of the war you mentioned.”

Daenerys nodded. They were currently around the half point of the year 297 AC, and from what she remembered, Jon Arryn was killed at the beginning of the year 298.

“The long wait gives the Dragons more time to grow, and besides, none of the people here know what is really going on in the capital now.” She said reassuringly. “And they shouldn’t learn about it from you. That would make no sense to them.” 

Viserys nodded at the last part of her statement before asking her a question. 

“And what is going on in the capital now? Was it also part of your vision?”

“In the capital, the current hand of the king, Jon Arryn, is looking into the history of house Baratheon and into the Usurper's bastard children. He is going to find that Robert has no trueborn children, and that Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen are all Bastards.”

“I never understood that part. How is he going to find it? I doubt he would just get confirmation from the queen or the Kingslayer…” his tone dropped when Jaime was mentioned. 

“I’m not so sure about that, but he would pay with his life for meddling in the Lannisters’ business. When that happens, it will be a sign for us to gather our forces and wait for the opportune moment.”

Viserys nodded to her. “I will take you at your word. You didn’t make a single mistake so far.”

Viserys IV

Viserys’s life was better than ever. The desert heat might not have been his favorite climate, but that was a small price to pay. 

All of his worries about the Martells vanished. He had a beautiful bride, a large house with servants and time to raise Viserion and the others into Dragons that would make his ancestors proud to call him and his sister their successors. 

It wasn’t the Red Keep and the Iron Throne, not yet, but it will do for now.

Even his sword training with the practice blade was going smoothly. Well, as smoothly as possible after he stopped using Blackfyre as a training sword. The Valyrian steel blade was so light and so sharp.

He didn’t know how it looked from the outside, but he knew that he almost took his own head off with it before switching to train with a different sword.

Their new house was very nice, and although he was a bit reluctant to admit it, the lemon tree in the courtyard was a nice addition. Having Doran’s trusted household servants was also very nice, if only for the fact he didn’t have to do certain tasks like make food and such in secrecy.

Since they were actually treated like Royalty, at least to some degree, Viserys started asking for things to be brought to the house they were living in. 

Aside from parchments to write on and equipment to train in swordsplay with (A training blade was quickly added to this list of equipment) Viserys also asked for hair dye. 

He wasn’t proud to dye his hair black, but he knew that Daenerys was right. If he wanted to Visit Doran or go with Arianne to the Water Gardens or Sunspear, having his identity hidden was his topmost priority. 

Neither of them wanted to attract any unnecessary attention, at least until the war that his sister saw in the future was beginning. 

That led him to Daenerys’s schedule. She was spending more time with the dragons than he was, which he was fine with since he saw that among the things she asked the Martells for were texts related to Dragons, which arrived around a month after their time in Dorne began. Viserys often saw her studying these texts or other things while he was focusing on his swordsmanship.

The things written in the texts about the dragons were working, or so he guessed. Whatever Daenerys gave the dragons was making them grow. 

According to her, they had most of the things that they needed for a healthy growth period, being mostly a steady supply of food and a warm environment, like the caves on Dragonstone, and Viserys agreed after seeing the results. Two months after their stay in Dorne began, the Dragons were already the size of large hounds.

Viserys also had something else that he was working on. It was only a concept for now, but he knew that his ancestors used saddles to ride their Dragons into battle. 

When he asked Daenerys she shrugged at it before saying that from what she saw in the future she was just fine riding Drogon without a saddle.

Viserys started wondering about the benefits and drawbacks of using saddles in battle.

The next day, Viserys dyed his hair and intended to ride to the Water Gardens. He wanted to get a book about the Dance of the Dragons, and hoped not to wait for a long while until they could get one out of the citadel for him.

Just like always, he notified Daenerys, who was examining a map of Westeros, about his doing.

And just like always, she told him to avoid any long gazes from anyone.

He wasn’t so sure on why his sister was so paranoid about spies, especially since Dorne was so far away from King’s Landing that there would barely be any value for spies there over places like the Reach or the Crownlands, where much more prominent events were likely to happen.

But he was not going to defy Daenerys. He was smart enough to make the connection in his mind that following his sister’s instructions meant good things and that not doing that would cause the opposite. It was that simple.

He could barely believe that a little over three months ago he was intent on selling his sister away for an army of savages instead of trying to actually make contact with the most pro-Targaryen kingdom in Westeros. 

He swore that if Willem Darry was there with them, he would’ve hugged the old knight for having him engaged to Arianne. He already did that with his sister.

Unlike most of the previous years in his life, in this year as the months passed, Viserys actually managed to see improvements for the better in almost every aspect of his life. It was nearly the end of the year 297 AC, and soon the first event that Daenerys’s vision pointed towards, Jon Arryn’s death, will supposedly happen. 

In Viserys’s eyes, it was simply the make or break point for their plan to enter the coming war. 

“Viserys, I intend to go to the Water Gardens tomorrow.” Daenerys said to him in passing.

This actually surprised him. Daenerys didn’t usually leave the Dragons’ side. In all of their time here, she only went to the Water Gardens twice.

“Is there any particular reason?” He asked her. “You usually stay here.” 

Ever since the Dragons hatched, Daenerys seldom did things for no reason. Viserys found it somewhat admirable.

“I need a change of pace. And I want to ask Doran to send an envoy to the north.”

Here it was. The actual reason. She hasn't sent anything to Ned Stark’s bastard since they left Pentos. Viserys himself assumed that she was doing it to not raise suspicion, like what she was telling him to do with dying his hair and everything.

He nodded. “Then I will also go.” He wanted to know what she was sending to Jon Snow, but Viserys knew damn well that it was not his business, at least for now. 

“But I do have one question.” He raised. “How are you going to explain to Doran why you want to talk with Ned Stark’s bastard?”

“I… Did not think about that.”

It was the morning of the next day, and the Targaryen siblings wanted to prepare to head towards the Water Gardens.

Both of them had their hair dyed to black, so as to not attract any attention.

When they arrived at where Prince Doran was, the servants let them in to meet him and then left them alone. 

When he noticed them, he wore a slight smile. 

“Prince Viserys,” he nodded towards him before turning to his sister. “Princess. You are a rare sight here, although not unwelcome. Are the Dragons doing fine?”

Daenerys nodded. “They are growing bigger with every month. I suspect I could already ride Drogon by this time next year.”

The prince’s eyes glinted when he heard that. Doran was the only Martell to not visit them at least once, and that too was simply due to the physical disability he suffered from. He was the only one to not see the dragons after their initial meeting.

The news about riding Drogon came as a shock to Viserys as well. This was the first time that Daenerys said something like that. He was almost tempted to ask about Viserion, but he knew he needed to present a united front with Daenerys on that matter and not look like she was not sharing her information with him.

Luckily for him, Daenerys continued speaking. “As for Rhaegal and Viserion, they are smaller than Drogon, but not by much. It will take a bit more time then it will take me, but Viserys could fly on Viserion in around a year and two or three moons.” 

Prince Doran nodded. “This is good news. I am eager to see a dragon flying.” he said with actual expectation evident in his tone. 

He looked again towards Daenerys. “I assume you are here for the same reason as your previous visit?” He asked her. 

Viserys was again intrigued. Daenerys never actually told him what she was doing in the Water Gardens aside from looking around at their splendor.

“That and more.” Daenerys nodded. “I have a request. I need an envoy, a trusted one. I know it sounds weird, but I would like to keep as much secrecy about the purpose of this affair, aside from the basics.” 

That had Doran intrigued. “I assume that by the ‘basics’, you mean where would that envoy be going and to whom?” he asked Daenerys, to which she nodded. 

“He will be going to Winterfell, to deliver a letter to Jon Snow.” 

Doran was seemingly caught off-guard. He knew that the name ‘Snow’ was the name given to baseborn children in the north just as ‘Sand’ was in Dorne, but he probably didn’t know of Ned Stark’s bastard. 

To the Prince of Dorne, it must have sounded like a random act of chaos or madness.

“I…” He started. “I understand why you ask for privacy. I would like to know why you want to exchange letters with a bastard in Winterfell.”

“It is related to our intent to retake the seven kingdoms, but I would like to leave the contents of the letters themselves a secret. Viserys can tell you that I have already contacted that individual beforehand.”

To that, Viserys nodded. It wouldn’t make any sense to tell their plan to Doran at this moment, since the north siding with them as things were standing now seemed almost as absurd as Robert just handing them the Iron Throne.

Doran sighed. “I do hope that the secrecy is for a reason other than your trust in us. I will lend you an envoy.” 

Daenerys smiled at that. “Thank you very much. I can assure you that the results will be visible when the time comes.”

He and Daenerys then spend some time wandering the Water Gardens. They were magnificent by themselves, and being located in the hot desert of Dorne only added to the palace’s charm. 

Soon, a servant called for Daenerys to meet the envoy that Doran got for her. 

A couple of weeks passed since their visit to the water gardens. 

Viserys could already see what Daenerys meant by riding the Dragons in a year. Viserion himself was now as big as a horse, and Drogon was even bigger, but not yet ready to be ridden. 

Viserys himself improved exponentially with the sword. He was not the best swordsman in the world, but after less than a year of training it was understandable. 

Regardless, he was now more confident in using Blackfyre , although he never tried using the sword in any sparring match he had.

It was just another afternoon for Viserys, who was in the courtyard, practicing with a blunted blade, when he saw someone enter the house. 

It was Arianne. Viserys felt good about seeing her and went to greet her, but stopped when he saw the other man who came along with her.

He was quite handsome, Viserys had to give him that, with a strong jaw, high cheekbones, an aquiline nose and a shaved face. But what surprised Viserys were the rest of his features. The man looked almost Valyrian, with his purple eyes and silver hair, even though there was a streak of black in it.

The man gave a slight bow and introduced himself as ser Jerald Dayne.

Viserys’s eyebrows shot with surprise. The name “Dayne” actually brought memories back from his time in King’s Landing. A knight from their Kingsguard, Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. 

But before Viserys could say anything, Arianne also spoke. 

“My father wants to speak with you in the Water Gardens. The Hand of the King is dead.”

At that moment, Viserys knew.

War was coming to Westeros, just like his sister said.

And he will only let the war end in one way.

The Three-Headed Dragon of House Targaryen will rise atop the red keep once again.

Chapter Text

          The Recipient - Jon III

Two days after it happened, Jon almost thought that he imagined the whole thing.

He was just a bastard, there was no way that he would have met a queen, much less made love to one.

And dragons. Dragons! They existed only in stories! The last dragon died a century and a half ago.

Jon also berated himself for burning the note he got from Daenerys. Or did he get it? An exiled Targaryen princess sending word to the bastard of Winterfell made no sense whatsoever. The reason he burned that note was because, as he thought at the moment, it would spell trouble if anyone found it.
Jon was almost sure he imagined the whole thing. Almost.  

His head did not agree with him on that. He remembered the contents of the letter by heart, but whatever else was in it was so strong it made his head feel fuzzy with weird memories.

Jon was fairly certain he never rode a dragon. And yet he vaguely remembered soaring through the sky on a magnificent green creature. 

He was sure that he never saw a princess or a queen before, but there he remembered a dimly lit chamber, an aching body and a beautiful blond-haired woman whom he called “My Queen” and bent the knee to.

No matter how he tried, more memories of whatever was in that latter barely came, and the little that did were forgotten quickly after the fact.

He remembered writing something in the letter about King’s Landing, but he knew he never left the north, much less traveled to the capital.

The letter he wrote in return. The weird man took it and vanished. He wondered where he had taken the letter.

One more thing came as a result of the letter. Jon wasn’t sure about his ambitions of joining the Night’s Watch anymore. Daenerys said that she was coming and explicitly told him to avoid the watch, but it has been a long time, and nothing happened.

Still, knowing that something awaited him made him feel excited each day he woke, just in the unlikely case a reply to his letter may arrive.

One day, when the sun was out, Jon was going around Winterfell to pass the time. In a short hour, he, Robb and Theon decided to ride out together on horseback. 

Like they did usually, Bran and Arya also wanted to join, but Lord Stark did not permit them on account of their age.

Suddenly, just like the last time he got a letter, a man he did not know came to him.

“Might you be Jon Snow?” The man asked, with a slight accent Jon didn’t recognize.

“Aye.” He said. “Who asks?” he asked the man in return.

“Just an envoy. I was asked to deliver a message, and that I did.”

Excitement and anticipation rose in Jon. He did not have anything for Daenerys, but he thought he may very well have a reply after reading the letter.

The envoy was looking quickly through a satchel he had and producing a piece of parchment, sealed with sigilless vax.

Jon opened the letter to find Daenerys’s words.

Jon

I told you I would come quickly, but some things are outside of my control.

I will meet you in a year, at most. This I promise.

I would try to answer your questions, but only when we meet. 

Sending these letters might attract more unwanted attention.

Remember to watch out for your siblings.

I hope you wait for me,

Dany

It was simple. She did say that she wanted no unnecessary attention.

Jon understood. He feared what would happen for both him and her if anyone found that they had been talking.

Looking at the letter again had an effect like the last time he got a letter from Daenerys. 

It felt almost like Jon was actually there. He was in the sky, looking at Winterfell. It was a different Winterfell than the one he was in now, yet it was undeniably the same castle.

The scenery changed, memories flickering like flames in a brazier. He saw fragments of this and that.

Jon recovered quickly and looked towards the messenger. He was a short man with gray hair.

Jon wanted to send a reply to Daenerys. He wanted to talk to her, to get the answers about what happened, or what was about to happen, or whatever it was that was present in his head.

But Jon understood what was in that letter. Daenerys would probably not send any more until they met, and she heavily implied that she shouldn’t be in contact with him until then.

Jon sighed and nodded to the man. 

He had waited for another letter from Daenerys for months, even just a word to make the previous one more of a real experience in his mind, but now… 

Jon had something new to wait for. 

Without a word, the messenger left, and Jon remained in Winterfell, curious and excited about a Targaryen princess from overseas whom he should have no contact with in any form of the imagination.

There was just one thing Jon didn’t understand. Why did Daenerys specify something about his siblings? 

“Jon” a familiar voice called. He looked behind him to see his little sister, Arya.

“Father called you. He said that someone from the Night’s Watch was caught.” 

The Night’s Watch. The name stirred memories in him. Jon wanted to go to the wall for a long while. To serve in an ancient order of heroes protecting the realms of man from the horrors beyond the wall.

He knew that he was only a bastard. He had no place in the future, not as it looked like now. On the wall he would have purpose.

But there was one thing. One tiny thing that halted that. Daenerys told him not to. She specified not to do that.

He knew that swearing the oaths meant serving the watch for life, and that a man of the Night’s Watch cannot hold titles or lands and have a family.

He remembered a small cabin. Dimly lit and swaying. Could that be why Daenerys asked me to…  

“Jon?” Arya asked, and Jon almost jumped. “Are you going? Father won’t let me come, so please tell me what happens there.”

Jon was still a bit shocked from what he thought, but he nodded to Arya and went towards the great hall, where his lord father and Robb and probably the rest of his half siblings were.

Life in Winterfell was never as interesting as now. Not that it wasn’t interesting normally, but now things were just different. 

Jon and the rest of the Starks had their own direwolves. Each kid got a pup.

Jon’s was called ‘Ghost’ because of its white colored fur and the complete silence in which he moved.

Added to that, the king himself was riding north to see their father. He knew Lord Stark and the king were friends, but still, such an event never happened before for as long as Jon could remember.

Seeing king Robert, even from afar, will surely be intriguing. Jon thought as he strolled towards Winterfell, Ghost walking behind him, silent as usual.

The men around the castle were busy with preparations. Jon wasn’t sure what half of them were even doing, but he saw people working on some repairs here and there, or receiving carts and shipments of food and drink.

Jon could even feel the pressure being put on his half-siblings. Robb was training more vigorously with the sword, likely anticipating a test of skill of some sorts. 

But he wasn’t the only one doing so. Bran, although younger, was working twice as hard on his bow, and from what Jon could hear, Septa Mordane was also working twice as hard at screaming at Arya.

Jon went towards Robb in the training yard, He picked up a wooden training blade and approached his half-sibling, standing across from him. 

Robb understood what Jon was doing.

Ser Rodrik went towards the pair. As they each prepared. And just like that, the practice fight began.

They lounged at each other. Attacking high and low, with both jabs and cuts, until they were each bruised in a dozen different places and wet from their sweat after the constant bashing of wooden blades.

Jon somewhat understood everyone’s nervousness. The king was coming here for the first time and they needed to do something to set a good first impression. 

Or at least the Starks did. He was only a bastard. Not something a king should see.

The great hall was filled with laughter. The feast was perhaps the best Jon has ever had. He was even able to have some wine, seeing as he sat away from his half siblings and his lord father. 

And yet he couldn’t quite take his eyes off them. They were seated at the high table with the royal family, while he was at the edge of the hall, sitting with some squires and freeriders.

There was the advantage of being unsupervised at that table, meaning he could have more than one cup of wine, which was something he never did before.

But as he drank, a feeling started forming inside of him, growing and growing each time he looked at the high table. 

He was Lord Eddard’s son, just like the rest of them. He should be sitting there too. All of his life, Jon wanted to be a Stark. To be accepted.

But it wasn’t his lot in life. That came with the name Snow.

Except he actually thought for himself at that moment. He stopped with the wine and just took a fowl thigh, throwing it under the table, where Ghost were. 

He actually started succumbing to the wine’s effects, but instead of being frustrated at the lack of recognition he had or about his place in the world, he just smiled. He also had a princess, and he didn’t see any of his siblings get any letters about dragons or Targaryens or anything of the sorts.

At least there’s someone waiting for me…

          The Dreamer - Bran I

Bran liked climbing. He really loved it. Towers, walls, houses. Everywhere. 

So he just didn’t understand why he was feeling uncertain when he was looking at the tree he was about to climb.

Whenever Bran wanted to go to the broken tower, he always started from the Godswood and climbed from tree to tree until he got there.

But today, the last day before he and his sisters and his lord father were to leave Winterfell to King’s Landing, Bran thought it would be the last time he saw Winterfell for a while, so he wanted to go up and look at it from above. 

Bran shook off the feeling and prepared to climb, but Summer’s barks took his attention away.

He looked at the direwolf pup. When he got it, it was a little thing, but it has grown now.

He thought naming it would be hard, but the name Summer just came to his mind almost immediately after.

Summer was barking, but his head was not pointing at him. Bran looked at the direction Summer barked at, only to see Jon and his direwolf, Ghost.

Bran was surprised to see his half-brother, but Jon wasn’t an unwelcome sight.

“Lady Stark told you not to climb.” Jon said solemnly.

“I always climb,” Bran replied. “And nothing ever happens.”

“Still, you shouldn’t risk it on your last day here.” Jon said.

Bran hesitated. He wanted to climb, but…

Bran got away from the tree. Some part of him knew that listening to Jon was probably for the best.

He saw a raven in the sky, almost urging him to fly. 

“What do you think you would do in the south?” Jon asked.

Bran paused. He didn’t really know how to answer that question.

He and Jon walked through the Godswood, with Summer and Ghost trailing behind. 

“I hope to see Ser Barristan Selmy.” Bran answered. “He’s in the Kingsguard, so I’ll have to see him at some point.”

It was no lie. In Bran’s eyes, Barristan Selmy was the greatest knight alive.

Bran actually dreamt of being like Ser Barristan the bold. Wearing the white armor and cloak of the Kingsguard, and being one of the best knights in the realm. It was his reason to try so hard with the sword.

“The south is always filled with great knights in the stories, and from what I heard of King Robert, he likes his tourneys, so you’re bound to see them.”

That actually left Bran thinking. 

There, in the south was his chance for adventure. He could see the people he looked up to. He could learn from them.

“Just be careful with your climbing, else when people tell stories about you, they are going to call you ‘Bran the climber’.” Jon said with a hint of laughter.

Bran looked up to his brother with a wide smile and started laughing.

The climbing knight… Bran thought. That took him again to Ser Barristan, who climbed the walls of a castle alone to save his king. I think that even if I wanted to be called that, I’d have to earn it…

They kept walking and talking, Bran telling Jon of all the things he wanted to do in the south. He knew that it was the last time in a while that they would talk like that.

Bran was a wolf. He was running in a field with the rest of his pack. There was a big gray wolf, and a smaller, leaner one as well, following the bigger one closely.

Another was a wild-looking gray wolf who ran alongside Bran. There was also a rabid black wolf with green eyes, and a smaller wolf who ran slower than the rest of the pack. 

Bran was even able to see a white wolf running alongside them, in the distance.

He knew that these were his pack, his family. And running alongside them in the night, with the cool night wind brushing his fur, was exhilarating.

But then, the dream started going wrong. 

As Bran ran, and saw a raven flying close to him. The raven called to him, as if urging him to somehow join him in the sky, but Bran was a wolf. Not a raven. Wolves don’t fly.

Then, the big gray wolf was attacked by a golden lion, and the pack split. Other lions joined the first one, and their pack leader was killed. 

Again, the raven urged, and again, Bran didn’t listen. He couldn’t fly.

But the lions cornered him. And Bran knew that he had to get out of there. He looked to the Raven and to the lions again. 

And then the first lion jumped. But before he could hit Bran, a loud roar sounded from somewhere far, far off, and Bran woke up from the dream. 

He was in his bed. He was just Bran. He wasn’t a wolf, he wasn’t about to fly, and there were no lions around.

He looked at Winterfell. There were mixed emotions in that look. He felt the call of adventure from the south, but he knew he would miss home. He would miss his mother, and Robb, and Rickon and Jon. 

But he knew that he needed to go. 

Soon after, Bran was looking at a horse. His horse. He was riding south with his father and the king. He couldn’t ride his pony anymore.

As the King’s column started riding out of Winterfell, people formed a crowd around them. The families of the people who were going south, his lady mother and brothers included, as well as the people who wished to bid goodbye to their liege lord, or just people who wished to see the king for the last time.

And the ride on the Kingsroad started. Bran was really going to King’s Landing.

          The Swashbuckler- Arya I

Each day on the road felt like an adventure. She and Bran rode here and there, discovering something new every time. 

It only got better when they passed the neck. Arya had never been outside of the North, but now she was in the land her mother came from. The Riverlands.

She remembered the stories about the battle of the trident, where Robert killed Rhaegar with his hammer. She wanted to search the River for Rhaegar’s rubies. The ones that broke from his armor when Robert hit him with the hammer. She wanted to take Bran and her friend Mycah with her to the river, but then they appeared. 

The two men looked quite different from each other. One was wearing the white armor and cloak from the stories, the symbols of the Kingsguard, while the other was wearing green armor and a helmet with golden antlers, just like the one from the stories about the trident. Quickly, Arya got their names. The man in green was lord Renly, the king’s brother and lord of Storm’s End.

And the older man in white… Bran couldn’t help but stare at him. According to Bran, he was the best knight alive in the seven kingdoms. Barristan the Bold, lord commander of the Kingsguard.

Arya, Bran and Mycah set out for the river, Nymeria and Summer walking behind them. When they actually got to the river, they got the broom handles they took earlier out, and started playing. 

When Arya looked at her brother, she saw fire in his eyes. 

Arya, Bran and Mycah grabbed a stick each and played pretend, with Summer and Nymeria sitting close nearby. The stick in her hand turned from a mare piece of wood into her sword, Needle.

But unlike how it was usually when she played and pretended to swordfight, she didn’t repeat the motions she saw Robb and Jon and even Bran practicing. 

No, this time, she just… felt something different. She took a weird stance, not like what she saw from other swordsmen.

The stick-sword from Mycah came at her, and Bran’s at him. Arya decided to attack Mycah in return.

Mycah was older than her, and stronger too, but it did not matter. She was able to swat his blows aside, somehow.

Her body moved with a certain amount of practice, almost like it was muscle memory. But at the same time, her muscles were not used to that sort of movement.

It was weird, but she followed her instincts. The weird stance she adopted and the unusual movements she managed to practice actually worked, even if both of the people she fought were boys.

“Where did you learn that?” Bran asked. “I never saw something like that!”

How did I move like that? She thought to herself. It was like my body wanted me to move like it, but wasn’t used to it at the same time…

But quickly, the mood turned sour as Nymeria and Summer both rose from their sitting positions in reaction to movement.

Prince Joffrey and her sister Sansa rode towards them on horseback, and in the prince’s arms was an actual sword, made of gleaming blue steel.

We probably made a lot of noise with the sticks… That’s why they’re here.

“Arya? ” Sansa asked. She then looked towards the others. “Bran?” she directed the question at him.

Arya was angry. “Go away,” she shouted back. “Why are you here? Leave us alone.” She didn’t notice the tears in her eyes.

Joffrey, face ever smug, looked from Sansa to Arya and then to Bran and Sansa again. 

“Your siblings?” He looked to Sansa, who blushed deeply and nodded.

The prince then shifted his gaze to Mycah. “And you?” he asked.

“Mycah,” he told the prince with fear, averting his eyes. “M’lord.”

“He’s the butcher’s boy.” Sansa said

“He’s my friend,” Arya said in return with as sharp a voice as she could muster. She saw Bran nodding after she said that. “You leave him alone.” She told the prince.

“A butcher’s boy who wants to be a knight, is it?” The look of amusement never once left Joffrey’s face.

He dismounted his horse, sword still in hand. “Pick up your sword, butcher’s boy,” Arya saw a look of fear in Mycah’s eyes. “Let us see how good you are.”

Mycah was frozen with fear, but Bran wasn’t. “Wait!” He interjected. “We asked him to fight us!”

But the prince didn’t listen. Or maybe he just didn’t care.

“Are you going to pick up your sword? Or do you only fight little kids?” Joffrey said mockingly.

Mycah slowly shook his head. “It’s only a stick, m’lord. It’s not no sword, It’s only a stick.” he said. Arya saw the fear in him. 

“And you’re just a butcher’s boy, and no knight.” Joffrey said with a triumphant tone. He moved his sword towards Mycah’s face, and laid it’s point on Mycah’s cheek, right below the trembling boy’s eye. 

Arya saw enough of the prince to know what would happen. 

Arya wanted to protect her friend.

With a quick movement, Arya used the stick in her hand to hit the blade on its flat, stirring itaway from her friend’s face.

For a moment, Joffrey was stumped. It was probably one of the first times he felt defiance.

“Arya, Stop! ” Sansa shouted.

Joffrey, however, didn’t stop. He turned towards Arya, blade still in hand, and he slashed at her. 

But Arya hit the sword’s flat with the stick again, deflecting it from its original course. And with one quick lunge, Arya’s stick met Joffrey’s fingers, and the blade fell off from his hand.

Arya immediately abandoned the stick and jumped towards the fallen sword. She lifted it with both of her arms as Joffrey was also about to pick it up. 

He took a step back as she now held the sword in her hands, but with one powerful swing, Arya threw the blue-steel blade away to the river.

Joffrey looked towards Arya, clearly livid, but before he could do anything, the sound of a low growl was audible. Nymeria stood between her and Joffrey, fangs exposed. She didn’t lunge at the prince, she just stood there. A threat. Or perhaps, a challenge.

Joffrey scrambled back at the sight. Sansa looked horrified. Bran stood near Arya, his stick still firmly in hand, as Summer quickly joined Nymeria. The sight of the two direwolves sent Joffrey back towards his horse, which he mounted as quickly as he could and rode off, Sansa right behind him with the same horrified expression on her face.

When Joffrey was out of sight, the direwolves calmed down, and Bran looked at her closely. “How did you do that?” He asked.

Arya knew what he meant. Knocking Joffrey’s sword from his hands like that.

“I…” Arya hesitated. “I don’t know.”

There was, of course, a hearing in front of the king, although it was not nearly as scary as Arya thought it would be.

Joffrey’s story was simple. Arya, Mycah and Bran all beat him up and Arya threw his sword, Lion’s Tooth , in the river. 

Sansa claimed she didn’t remember the event that well, but both Arya and Bran told the king the truth. That Joffrey hurt someone and Arya stopped him. 

When it came to the part where Arya and Bran told the king of Arya’s disarming of Joffrey, the King’s brother, Lord Renly Baratheon began to laugh.

The king looked a bit bristled at that, and asked the knight in white, Ser Barristan, to escort Renly out.

But before that could happen, Renly spoke. “My brother is too kind. I can find the door myself.” He bowed to Joffrey. 

“Perchance later you’ll tell me how an eleven-year-old girl managed to disarm you using a broom handle, and throw your sword in the river.” He said before walking out.

Before the door fully closed, she could hear Renly saying “Lion’s Tooth.” before bursting into laughter.

The King’s sentence was in favor of Arya and Bran, on the justifications that children are children, and they sometimes fight. It also helped that Joffrey didn’t have any signs of the so-called “Beat Up” that they delivered on him. Aside from the fingers Arya hurt with her stick, that is.

Mycah himself was the last piece of evidence. The cut under his eye was too clear to ignore.

Arya went to sleep happy that night. Nymeria by her side and a smile on her lips. 

And just like Renly Baratheon, she laughed at the name “Lion’s Tooth”.

If anything, you should call it “Lion’s Claw”, since you are holding it in your hand, not in your mouth.

          The Lord of Winterfell - Robb I

Robb missed his father. He missed his sisters, and his little brother Bran. He was now the Lord of Winterfell in his father’s place, and it wasn’t easy.

The only family he had left were his lady mother, his baby brother and his bastard brother.

It was rather relieving to have Jon in Winterfell. Robb’s mother disliked it even more than when his father was still around, but Robb was happy having someone around his age so close, and Jon was his brother in all but name.

Robb’s days were spent in the great hall of Winterfell, listening to words and requests from the lords and people of the North and trying his best to help them, and in the yard, training now with actual blunt steel swords. 

But it was clear that some of the northerners who came to seek help thought less of Robb because of his age.

But the task of lordship had to fall to him regardless. He was his father’s heir. He tried to do what his father did. Or at least, what Robb saw him do.

But it wasn’t the easiest thing. The long summer was at its end, and winter was coming. The people of the North knew winter better than anyone, and the sooner they prepared for it, the better it was.

It was around three weeks after his father departed for the south. Robb was slowly easing into his role as the Lord of Winterfell. To one side of his table sat his lady mother, who helped him with the affairs of the north. 

She was by his father’s side for a long time and had knowledge that proved useful more than once to Robb at his current state. 

It was clear that she missed his father and siblings from the way she looked at the seats they usually occupied in the great hall. 

It was no surprise. For almost their entire life, they have been with Catelyn Stark, and suddenly, they were gone. 

On his other side was Jon. His mother told him that it wasn’t befitting to have Jon there, but Robb asked him to help him anyway. Jon was also his father’s son, and he wanted to hear what he had to say.

There was one more matter. As the lords and levies came, he noticed that he started gaining the respect of the people, even the ones who never came to see him before. 

Robb knew that he did his best to judge and manage the affairs of the northern people, and so word of his deeds will spread across the towns that these people came from, but he couldn’t help but wonder what was it that caused even the people who were far away from these locations to treat him like that. 

At first, Robb thought it was because of his positions, and that the people who came to see him later thought of him more as the Lord of Winterfell and not just the son of Lord Eddard Stark, but that wasn’t the case. 

“It’s Gray Wind,” Jon said when Robb asked for his opinion on these events. 

They just finished sparring with blunted steel swords. Theon Greyjoy was still shooting at targets in the background, hitting his mark with most of his shots.

Robb looked at Jon with a puzzled look. He then sent a look towards his direwolf, who was resting nearby. 

“You are the first Lord Stark of Winterfell in a long time to have a direwolf. It’s your house’s symbol.” Jon explained. 

Thinking about the matter, Robb concluded that it sounded plausible. 

“It’s like the Targaryens. People looked at them with a lot less respect after they lost their dragons.”

Robb and Jon continued their sparring until night almost fell. They were both tired by then. 

They were about to go to the great hall for dinner when Grey Wind and Ghost both stood up sharply and turned to look in a particular direction.

Robb looked with them, trying to see what it was that picked the direwolves’ attention, and saw a black plume of smoke rising from a place inside the walls of Winterfell.

“Fire,” he said quietly.

He quickly looked at Jon. “Go! Call people. I’ll see where this is coming from!” 

Jon nodded and the both of them started running in different directions, Robb towards the smoke and Jon to the great hall, their direwolves following in their footsteps. 

As lord of Winterfell, it was Robb’s duty to take responsibility and figure out what was happening in his castle.

Robb went towards the smoke, running through the castle to find the fire spreading in the library tower.

Robb already saw that the guards and men on the scene were trying to put the flames out, going to get the water needed to do so. 

He realized that he ran towards the fire so fast that he even forgot to put the training sword he used back in place.

Letting the sword fall to the ground, Robb thought. I’ll pick this up later, the fire is what matters now. Before looking around to the direction the men went to to get their water. He was almost alone, where he stood, as the women led the children away and the able-bodied people all went to douse the flames.

Robb was also about to go and join the men who were busy trying to put out the fire, before something happened. Something… Weird.

Robb’s vision went weird and queasy for a moment, perhaps from looking at the huge fire, and his perspective changed. 

He was seeing… himself. But from a different point of view. He saw himself from a point on or close to the floor. It was so weird. 

Even the times he did look at himself were all in front of a mirror or water surface. He never saw himself like that.

But that only caught his attention for a moment. The thing that really was the center of his attention was the man standing behind him. He guessed that if that was real and he was really seeing himself from the floor somehow, he probably missed the man because of the raging fire that he needed to help put out.

But there was something else about the man. It took Robb no longer than a second to realize that the man was holding a metal object. 

The fire’s light reflected off of the blade of a dagger. Lifted right to kill him.

As the point he saw himself from on the floor began to move, Robb decided to take the safest move. He jumped forward and tried to roll. It half worked. He quickly rose up to his legs only to see from his own eyes again. 

He felt pain coming from his back. It wasn’t much, but…

He saw the man. He was small, with a gaunt face, limp blond hair and pale sunken eyes. The dagger he held had a red edge, either from the fire light or from blood. 

Robb did feel pain on his back, although it wasn’t much more than what he felt after getting a small, normal cut.

I jumped right before he could really slash my back…

The man with the dagger advanced, but that only lasted for a second, as Grey Wind leaped on him, trying to bite into his arm. But the direwolf was just a pup, not strong enough to take down the attacker alone.

The man managed to wave the dagger towards Gray Wind, the latter jumping away to not be slashed. 

Robb thought fast. He needed to get the training sword from the ground. Having a weapon, ineffectual as it may be, is better than nothing at all in this sort of situation.

The man advanced quickly towards Robb and Grey Wind prepared to jump again, only to be surprised as Ghost jumped at the man from a different direction. 

Ghost was slightly bigger than his littermates, but even he wasn’t big enough to knock the man down for long. But then Robb saw Jon, with the training sword that was on the floor. He hit the man on his side once, and the man turned to face Jon, only to notice the weapon in his hand and attempt to run away. But that too didn’t get him far.

Ghost and Grey Wind both jumped on him, Ghost pinning him to the ground and Grey Wind tearing the man’s throat out.

Jon hurried towards Robb, who was still couched, hand going to the point of pain he felt on his back.

“Are you hurt?” Jon asked, outstretching a hand to Robb. 

“Just a little.” Robb said before lifting a hand for his brother’s arm. 

“Robb!” Called the voice of his mother. She and others ran towards him and the fire, most people with water or dried dirt to put the fire off with.

Catelyn’s eyes darted between Jon, who held a sword, and Robb who was on the floor with a hand on his back.

Her eyes opened and she turned to Jon. “You-” 

“Mother!” Robb called. He knew what his mother was about to say. She never liked Jon.

Robb grabbed Jon’s arm, rose to his feet and pointed at the corpse near where Grey Wind and Ghost were, both with their fur stained red from the blood of the assassin. “That man came at me with a dagger. Jon and the wolves came to help.” he said shortly. 

Catelyn gave him a look, then her eyes darted to the man, then the wolves and lastly Jon, before quickly shifting her gaze to the arm Robb put on his back. She hurried to his side, to take a look at his back.

“Were you hurt?” She asked. 

“Only a little cut.” He said. He saw Jon approaching the corpse. 

“It is only a small cut, but we need to talk to Maester Luwin. It may be poisoned.”

More people began to go towards the fire, but Catelyn and Robb started walking away from it when they both heard a gasp from Jon.

Robb quickly looked to see Jon holding the weapon the assassin used.  

“This is Valyrian Steel.” Jon said.

Later, in a private room, Robb, his lady mother Catelyn, his brother Jon, ser Rodrik Cassel, Theon Greyjoy, Maester Luwin and Hallis Mollen, the new captain of the guard, had a discussion. 

Jon still held the Dagger, as Catelyn turned towards Hallis. “Who was he?”

“No one knows his name,” Hallis replied. “He was no man of Winterfell, M’lady, but some say they saw him here and about the castle these last few weeks.”

“So one of the king’s men, then.” She said, “Or one of the Lannisters’. He could have waited behind as the others left.”

Robb was sure that his mother’s voice went down a tone as she mentioned the Lannisters.

“Maybe,” Hallis said. “With all these strangers filling up Winterfell of late, there’s no saying who he belonged to.” 

“He’s been hiding in the stables.” Theon added. “You could smell it on him.”

“And how could he go unnoticed?” Catelyn said sharply. 

Robb could hear the concern in his mother’s voice.

“Between the horses Lord Eddard took south and those we sent to the Night’s Watch in the north, the stables there half-empty. It wouldn’t be hard hiding from the stable boys.”

“We found where he was sleeping.” Jon said. “He had a leather bag of ninety silver stags buried beneath the straw.”

“Good to know my head isn’t that cheap.” Robb said.

They looked at him. Robb would look at himself as well at that moment.

“I’m still confused. Why would anyone want to kill me? I haven’t been lord of Winterfell for more than a month, and I don’t think I’ve made any enemies…”

Jon nodded. “The man didn’t work alone,” He presented the dagger he took from the catspaw. “The blade is made of Valyrian Steel. This sort of weapon is incredibly rare. Whoever sent this man after Robb most be someone who can afford this sort of weapon.”

At the mention of Valyrian steel, a shocked expression presented itself on the faces across the room.

Ser Rodrik put his hand towards Jon. The gesture was obvious. He wanted to examine the blade. 

Jon handed it over, and after a long moment, Ser Rodrik nodded. 

“It is Valyrian Steel, and the handle, Dragonbone. This is no common weapon.”

Catelyn looked towards Hallis. “Double the guard. If the person who is after Robb’s head can afford something like that, there might be other killers.”

“As you say, m’lady.” Hallis bowed and left the room.

Robb noticed his mother scanning the room with her eyes. The room was quiet as her eyes landed on Jon. 

She took a deep breath. “Robb, close the door.” She said.

Robb could hear his mother’s voice become more serious. He did as he was told. And got back to her. 

“What I am about to tell you must not leave this room,” she said with a grim tone. “I want your oaths on that. If even part of what I am suspecting is true, Ned and my kids have ridden into deadly danger, and a word in the wrong ear could mean their lives.” Robb again noticed her eyes landing on Jon. 

But Jon didn’t seem to notice.

“Lord Eddard is a second father to me,” Said Theon. “I do so swear.” 

“Me as well. I will never endanger Lord Stark.” Said Jon immediately after.

Robb himself was shocked by the words from his mother’s mouth. Father… And Sansa, Bran And Arya… 

Just like Jon, he couldn’t imagine doing anything that would put his father in danger.

“I swear as well.” Robb said with determination. He would not let any harm befall his father.

“You have my oath.” Maester Luwin said.

“And mine too, my lady.” Echoed ser Rodrik.

His mother looked deadly serious. “My sister Lysa believes the Lannisters murdered her husband, Lord Arryn, the Hand of the King.” She told them.

The accusation sat heavy in the air before Catelyn continued to speak. “Ned went to King’s Landing partially to investigate Lord Arryn’s death. If the Lannisters did indeed kill him, they might see Ned riding south as a threat.”

“So they tried to kill Robb to have Lord Stark return to Winterfell?” Jon asked. 

Robb shuddered at the thought, but his mother nodded. At that moment, Robb noticed that it was weird of his mother to actually allow Jon to be present for that conversation. 

“It would be more suspicious if two hands of the kings died in succession, so they tried to target our family.”

Robb was angry. He was angry because an assassin was sent after him, but even more because the act was aimed at his family. 

“My lady, if it comes to conflict, my House owes yours a great debt. You will have my sword.” Theon Greyjoy said, placing his hand on the hilt of his weapon to emphasize his point.

Maester Luwin pulled at his chain collar. “All we have is conjecture. This is the queen’s family we mean to accuse. She will not take it kindly. We must have proof or forever keep silent.” 

“The proof is in the dagger,” Said Ser Rodrik. “A fine blade like that will not have gone unnoticed.”

“Someone must go to King’s Landing.” His mother said. 

Robb immediately volunteered. “I’ll go.”

“No,” She said, “Your place is here. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.

Robb looked at his mother. He knew she was right.

“I will go myself.”

That took Robb by surprise.

“My lady, is that wise? Surely the Lannisters will greet your arrival with great suspicion.”

“You will need a strong escort, my lady.” Theon said.

To that, Robb agreed.

“I will send a squad of our guards with you.” Robb said. 

“No,” his mother refused. “A large party will attract unwelcome attention, and I do not want to alert the Lannisters of my arrival.” 

Ser Rodrik immediately replied in protest. “My lady, if that is so, allow me to accompany you. The Kingsroad can be perilous for a woman alone.”

“I will not be taking the Kingsroad.” She replied, but after a moment added “But two riders can move as fast as one, and much faster than a large column weighed down by wagons and wheelhouses. I will welcome your company, Ser Rodrik. We will follow the White Knife to the sea, and then take a ship to King’s Landing from White Harbor. With Strong horses and brisk winds we will be in King’s Landing before Ned and the Lannisters.” She said with an air of finality. 

And so, Robb was going to be separated from both of his parents.

As the meeting ended and everyone walked their own way, Robb heard his mother’s voice once more.

“Jon.” She said. Jon turned to look at her. Other than Robb, no one was in earshot.

Robb knew something wasn’t right. His mother never called Jon by name.

With hesitance in her voice, she said “Thank you. For helping Robb.” before she walked away without another word.

The morning after their conversation, Robb, Jon and Theon saw his mother and Ser Rodrik off as they went on their way towards White Harbor and King’s Landing.

The Lord of Winterfell turned back after his mother disappeared from view, Grey Wind at his heel.

If things came to conflict with the Lannisters, he will be ready. They tried to strike at him. They won’t catch him off-guard again.

Jon and Theon followed him. They all had to prepare for the worse.

Chapter Text

          The Fortunate - Viserys V

Viserys had a realization. When the common folk will talk and the bards will sing of their fight against the Usurper, it was his sister who will be compared to Aegon the conqueror, simply because she would be riding the big black dragon.

Balerion come again, they would call him . He thought to himself. 

But he was surprisingly OK with that. He was doing his best to follow the guidelines Daenerys set for him more than a year ago, and by this point, it was more than natural for him.

The Dragons should not be taken for granted. He reminded himself.

If Daenerys will ride Balerion come again, then… Viserys remembered the list of names his father and he went through when they passed the Dragon Skulls.

Through the names he went, thinking of the color of this dragon and that. Viserion’s scales were cream and gold in color, and so he decided.

The dragon considered the most beautiful and majestic was Sunfyre the Golden, ridden by Aegon II. With both his and Viserion’s golden scales, I’d say it would make sense that the singers would compare the two.

Viserys took a quick moment.

And if they don’t, I will personally fly Viserion there to give them a reason for why they should do it.

The thought of flying Viserion gave him pause. Viserion was still small, too small to fly.

Even Drogon, who was the biggest of their dragons, was still too small, according to Daenerys, but she did admit that the time for flying on Drogon’s back was close.

It was a bit worse for Viserys, since he was both bigger than Daenerys and his dragon was smaller, but he didn’t care. 

Be it a month or a year, I have waited for the throne for 16 years, and I will take it like my ancestors. On dragonback .

He had that thought a lot, mostly to suppress his excitement. 

From the size barely larger than a housecat, Viserion was now larger than a horse. Much larger, in fact. 

Viserys had seen the dragon skulls. He remembered them well, as before Viserion, Drogon and Rhaegal were born, they were the only remnants he saw of the dragons.

By Viserys’s untrained eye, Viserion himself was almost as big as Stormcloud, the dragon that saved the life of Aegon the Dragonsbane.

He did not want to even attempt flying him. He heard the stories of Aegon the Dragonsbane single flight.

Aside from Viserys’s monitoring of the Dragons’ growth, he also had business elsewhere. 

Arianne introduced him to a man called Ser Gerold Dayne of High Hermitage, who goes by Darkstar, because he is of the night.

Viserys, immediately recognizing the name ‘Dayne’, went on asking questions, about Arthur Dayne in particular. 

If they were members of the same family, and if Darkstar’s skills compared to those of the Sword of the Morning.

In truth, Viserys has started thinking about his Kingsguard, and having the cousin of Arthur Dayne as a member would be a great first step indeed.

Ser Gerald said that he’d consider the proposal and left, with some expression on his face that Viserys couldn’t quite place.

It has been a while now since news of Lord Jon Arryn’s death reached them in Dorne. It was supposed to cause instability in the realm, which Viserys did hear about from the Dornishman who came to talk with him, be them Prince Oberyn, Arianne or the Sand Snakes. 

There was news of Lord Eddard Stark riding to King’s Landing to serve as the Usurper's hand, which didn’t surprise Viserys after what he heard from Daenerys.

Speaking of his sister, when his name day came, she actually offered him a gift. He heard her talking about something with Doran when they actually came to Sunspear.

Now he knew what it was. A suit of armor, black shining plate, and a helm adorned with dragon wings.

It reminded him of his brother Rhaegar, except that his armor wasn’t adorned with rubies on his chest.

However, he was happy about that. The image of himself clad in black armor like his ancestors’ came to him nicely. And black was a good contrast with Viserion’s cream and gold scales.

Daenerys was also given a suit of armor. Lighter than his own, but still. Viserys understood that her armor was meant more as a projection of power. 

Just like he thought about himself, projecting the image of Aegon the conqueror and his sisters was important. 

Viserys was actually quite happy about how his sister looked. Unlike himself, she has still not gone to the family that she was supposed to marry into, being the Starks. 

Viserys knew the history of Aegon’s conquest well enough to know that Torren Stark, the last king in the north, bowed to Aegon the Conqueror and Balerion, so his sister carrying that image was all the better.

But the best gift came from house Martell. Aside from having one of the best nights of his life with Arianne, prince Oberyn came to him bearing a gift. 

A circlet of black Valyrian Steel, embedded with rubies. An artifact thought lost in the sands.

The conqueror’s crown.

Just as Viserys looked at the crown, Oberyn looked at Viserion and Rhaegal, who were lazing outside of the yard of their living place. Each one was larger than a horse, and longer than two.

Oberyn went to speak with Daenerys, probably in relation to the dragons.

From what Viserys talked with Oberyn about his family, he realized that the Red Viper was eager and ready to spill Lannister blood, and would most likely want to ride out and strike when the dragons are big enough.

Viserys knew not of the logistics needed to mobilize 30,000 soldiers, but he knew it would take time, and for 16 years the Dornish waited. 

Viserys himself was somewhat conflicted. Sure, he wanted to get the Iron Throne as fast as possible, but that sort of conflict might leave Viserion, Drogon and Rhaegal in danger, since they were rather young for Dragons. 

Viserys himself knew how long he would have to wait, but he and Daenerys raised the first dragons in more than a century, and as the date for this ‘War of the Five Kings’ that Daenerys mentioned, Viserys was getting more and more worried that their dragons would be endangered during the conflict to come.

Before Viserys went to sleep that night, he stayed up in his room, gazing at the crown worn by so many kings before him. 

He had a decision to make.

Fighting in armor was a more tedious task than doing so without armor. Or, maybe, it was the heat around him. Dorne was not the best place to wear plate armor.

He was sure that his sister felt that too, with her also being dressed for the part of the conqueror.

But armor or not, Viserys was getting better and better with the sword. He was from a long line of warriors. On Dragonback or on the ground, the Targaryens were among the best fighters on the field. 

The things he heard about his brother Rhaegar only worked to motivate him. They say that Rhaegar’s only equals with the sword were Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Barristan Selmy.

Viserys also wanted to be remembered like that. He wanted to be like Rhaegar. 

And so he worked. He was using steel for training, and was even confident enough to start lifting Blackfyre again, although using it against a real opponent was not something Viserys was keen to do. 

Not until he sat foot on the field of battle, at least.

Viserys wished Daenerys was with him now. But she was busy tending to all three dragons, while he had to deal with a security matter.

Apparently, a child, most likely from the Water Gardens, repeatedly tried to sneak inside the border of their home. But the guards Doran set caught him and told him that the area was off limits. 

The child tried twice more before the matter was brought to Viserys. 

But there was an unsettling detail about the child. He had no tongue. And not only that, but no one in the Water Gardens knew who he was. The kids in the Water Gardens came from across Dorne, but this one was unknown to them.

That left Viserys with a choice. What was he to do with a child like that?

“I will discuss the matter with Prince Doran tomorrow. I will be going to visit him in the Water Gardens. As for this child… keep him under watch, but unharmed.”

Some vicious thought came up in Viserys’s mind. Why did a child like that, one with no tongue, come to try and see what they were doing? It wasn’t even by mistake, as the kid repeatedly tried to sneak into their property. 

Viserys wasn’t sure if it was logic or paranoia, and it was most likely both, but he thought that the kid may be working for someone. 

A kid having his tongue removed at such a young age and doing what was almost surely collecting secrets.

That meant that he may have been under surveillance. And not by the Dornish. 

It was a bad situation, and panic started taking over.

“Keep the kid unharmed, but do not let him escape. Tell Doran that I have an urgent meeting with him tomorrow, and…” 

The last thing he was going to say sounded mad. But Viserys wasn’t taking any chances. Not when the safety of his sister and their dragons was on the line. 

“I want the people in the water gardens checked. If anyone is missing their tongue, notify me or Prince Doran.”

The guard that presented the information to Viserys, a man under the command of Areo Hotah, had his face adorned with an expression of confusion.

“I want their mouths searched for tongues. The kid you talked about may be a spy. Remember your orders. Take no chances.” Viserys commanded. 

Viserys spent the morning with Viserion and Rhaegal. Specifically, Daenerys told him to teach Viserion to respond to words in High Valyrian. 

To Demonstrate, she took all three dragons to the edge of their estate. When Viserys was able to see her, she called “Dracarys!” and all three Dragons opened their mouths as one and breathed flames, aiming at a certain point in the sand that contained nothing in particular.

Unlike normal fire, these flames were magical. Viserys could watch them for hours without getting bored.

Drogon’s flames were the ones from the stories of Balerion. Just like the fire that burned Harrenhal, the flames emitted from Drogon’s mouth were black in colors, with edges of red flaring across the stream.

Rhaegal’s fire was yellow with shades of orange and veins of green, and Viserion’s was a beautiful shade of gold. He never saw flames like those before. Even the bright green wildfire that was used by his ancestor after the fall of the dragons couldn’t compare. 

An imitation of the real thing. 

After their morning with the dragons, Viserys and Daenerys got a surprise visit from prince Oberyn, who wanted to deliver some news.

“I am leaving for King's Landing.” Oberyn Martell said.

“What for?” Viserys replied. Since their arrival, Oberyn didn’t leave Dorne even once, and was always in Sunspear, close to the Water Gardens and their hidden estate.

Thus, it was surprising to hear Oberyn’s news, but Viserys wondered even more about the destination. 

“Lord Eddard Stark, the Hand of the King, is hosting a tourney. It’s a good opportunity to see the people we will be fighting after the Dragons grow.”

Daenerys nodded.

Viserys’s first thought went to the tourney of Harrenhal, the one he heard that his brother Rhaegal won. He wondered how he would do in a tourney.

He imagined himself, clad in the black armor suit that Daenerys gave him, atop a horse and wielding a lance, unhorsing knights bearing the colors of noble houses from all the seven kingdoms. 

“You mean to check the competing knights?” he asked.

“Yes.” The Red Viper replied.

Viserys understood. From his time in Dorne, almost every time he mentioned taking action against the Lannisters, he got a similar reply. The best time of striking is when the enemy is weakest. 

Viserys knew that a civil war and a succession crisis was coming, courtesy of his sister, and that these circumstances would be ideal to retake Westeros, but Oberyn had a good point.

Knowing who you will be facing is a massive part of winning any fight.

          The Squire - Bran II

When Bran left Winterfell for the south, he knew that it would be the last time for a long time he would see his home. He already missed his mother, and his brothers, Robb, Rickon and Jon. 

He missed eating in the great hall with everyone, and climbing the castle walls, his hands knowing every nook and cranny as naturally as his legs knew the ground, and he missed riding out with his brothers and father and Theon.

But it was all worth it. 

When they settled in the Red Keep after their long ride south, the look of the city alone was mesmerising. 

So many people… Bran had never seen anything like that.

The Red Keep as well was huge. They even had a Godswood here, although there was no Weirwood Tree in it.

But the most exciting thing of all came as his father told him of what he would do in King’s Landing. 

Sansa had the court and Septa Mordane, and father got Arya a dancing teacher, but when he came to Bran, he told him that one of the dreams he had at night just came true.

Just as Sansa wanted to become Joffrey’s queen, Bran wanted to squire for a great knight, and now, he was the squire for the man he was certain was the finest knight the seven kingdoms had ever seen. 

Bran was now the Squire for Ser Barristan the Bold.

He always wanted to be a knight and train in arms. Now he will learn from the very best. When they last ‘fought’, Arya beat him because of the weird way she moved, but no more. She won’t win.

Bran was eager to start, and even more eager once he did so. He accompanied Barristan around, watching and learning from the legendary knight. 

He trained in arms, with wooden swords. Bran wasn’t particularly good at it yet, but he wasn’t bad, and he only really started. 

Just like them, the direwolves were also adapting to the red keep. They almost always stayed in Bran, Arya and Sansa's rooms, but they were adapting. They were creatures of the north, just like the Starks, and it wasn't easy adapting to the south.

Bran couldn’t help but let his imagination go wild. When his lord father told Bran and his sisters that a tourney will be held in the capital, Bran could almost see the best knights in all the seven kingdoms riding to one place for a contest of skill. 

Bran knew that Ser Barristan would most likely ride, as well as the Kingslayer, but Bran could barely wait for it. 

Surprisingly, Arya wasn’t excited to see the best fighters in the land converge on the capital.

Even more surprising was it that Sansa was.

Bran quickly deduced that Sansa was excited to see the gallant knights like in the stories, and not about people in armor beating each other.

Bran knew that he would most likely have the responsibility of helping Ser Barristan if he decided to participate himself, so unlike Sansa, Bran would be closer to the field, and not sitting with the other lords and ladies.

Bran managed to find out lords from the Reach, the Westerlands, the Stormlands and the Riverlands. Even some of the Crownlands houses participated, but there weren’t any northerners there, aside from them.

Bran was surprised, and even a bit disappointed that The knights of the Vale weren’t participating, aside from Yohn Royce, who’s bronze armor caught Bran’s eyes. He heard the legends, and he knew that aside from the North, the blood of the first men also ran in House Royce. 

From Dorne, house Santagar participated, and prince Oberyn Martell, The Red Viper, also came in to participate.

The Knights themselves each wore gleaming armor, the crowd cheered and it seemed like all the city came to watch.

Bran was on the field. He did his best to tend to Ser Barristan’s equipment, handing him his shield and lance after he climbed his horse.

Once and twice he defeated his enemies, riders that Bran couldn’t quite name, before he took the field against the Kingslayer himself. 

Ser Jaime seemed unstoppable on his horse, and Bran heard that he even reached the final in prince Joffrey’s name day tourney, only to be defeated by the knight of flowers, Ser Loras, who has yet to take the field himself.

Bran was disappointed. Ser Barristan lost the joust to the Kingslayer.

But just like he heard about the last tourney, the kingslayer himself lost to the Knight of Flowers.

There was an accident with Ser Gregor and the hound, but Bran wasn’t there to witness it. Ser Hugh of the Vale actually died fighting the Mountain, and Ser Barristan chose to stand vigil over him because nobody else was there, and Bran joined in.

With the mountain actually attacking the Knight of Flowers (or so Bran heard) he hadn’t a doubt that Ser Gregor Clegane was the villain of the story.

Although he did get to see Thoros of Mir win the melee with his burning sword. Bran’s eyes glowed in awe. He wanted to wield some magic weapon like that as a knight someday, like Ser Arthur Dayne with his sword, and Ser Aemon the Dragon knight of the kingsguard, and…

Another name came to Bran’s mind, although he didn’t recognise it from anywhere.

Who is Brynden Rivers?

          The Wind - Daenerys VI

Daenerys forgot how good it was to be in the air. It didn’t compare to her first flight out of the fighting pits of Meereen, but it was damn close.

At least this is way better than the last time I flew on Drogon… She thought bitterly.

Her black beast was now around the size he was when she first flew him out of the fighting pits of Meereen, His flames as black as Balerion’s was, and his scales hard as armor.

And luckily, it was ahead of time. Or at least, the time it took last time. But she assumed it was the effect of actually focusing on raising dragons instead of on survival and on conquering Slaver’s Bay.

She would go back there. But this time, she would actually bring fire and blood. 

She and drogon landed in front of the wide-eyed Viserys. “You…” Was all that he managed to say.

He tried gathering himself, failing quite spectacularly, but he did manage a sentence. “How… How was it?”

She smiled. “It could have been more stable. Drogon isn’t used to flying with me yet.”

“...A-and…” he blurted. 

Daenerys knew what was dancing on his tongue. “You are heavier than I am, and Viserion is still smaller than Drogon. It would take some time, but you saw it now. Flying is possible. And you will fly. You have my word.”

You better fly. We’re going to need every dragon we can get to take the Seven Kingdoms, not to mention when the Others come knocking on The Wall. I am not losing Viserion this time.

“But I’m not sure I’ll be here to actually watch you fly.” She said, “It will soon be time for me to go to the North.” 

Daenerys was actually excited about the prospect of meeting Jon again. Or, at least, she hoped to meet him again, and that he heeded her words about staying out of the Night’s Watch.

“You should call Oberyn. We need to discuss this with him and find time to go to the Water Gardens to tell Doran.” She told her brother.

“About that…” He started. “How exactly are you going to justify going to the north?”

Oh. I didn’t really think about that too much… I would like to keep Jon’s identity away from the Dornish for now.

“I think I have something that could work. I’ll just need you to cooperate with me. I don’t really think that the Dornish would take my word based on a magic vision I had a year and a half ago…”

Viserys looked uncertain for a moment, and then nodded.

“What are we telling them?”

“So you want to go north to find a dragon egg?” Asked Doran Martell.

Daenerys nodded. “It’s a well known Targaryen story. When good queen Alysanne went to the wall, she hid a dragon egg in the crypts of Winterfell.”

Viserys nodded, agreeing with the ‘Ancient’ Targaryen story.

In truth, Daenerys only knew of Good Queen Alysanne’s visit to the wall since she actually studied the history of the seven kingdoms during her stay in Dorne.

She remembered the crypts in Winterfell lacking any sort of eggs, but that story could prove to be a false legend later. After she sits the throne.

“I won’t go immediately, but I think I will be able to traverse the north rather easily with Drogon. If you remember the letter I sent north a while ago, It was to a man who can help me find the egg. Ned Stark’s Bastard.” she said reassuringly.

“I saw her riding the dragon myself,” Oberyn said. “She can fly faster than any horse.”

Viserys once again nodded reassuringly. “She has never once been wrong about dragons. I choose to believe her.”

Doran seemed to be thinking about the proposition. “Prince Doran,” Daenerys started. “Because of your condition, you are the only member of your family who didn’t see the power of the Dragons. Having a fourth Dragon, or maybe even more if Good Queen Alysanne hid more than one egg would be a huge benefit to any attempt at conquering the Seven Kingdoms.”

“I have to agree with the princess,” Oberyn stated. Arianne, also present in the room, nodded in agreement. “The dragons have a huge advantage in any sort of battle that doesn’t involve ranged weaponry. Most infantry are useless against them.”

Doran nodded. “If there really is an egg, I trust that you will find it. As my brother said, a fourth dragon will be a big advantage to our future war.”

Daenerys sighed internally. She knew that Doran thought that they had no reason to lie since the Martells were their only allies in Westeros, and that if they and Dorne tried to attack the rest of the six kingdoms, they would need as many dragons as possible to turn the tides.

She also noticed the impatience of some of the Dornishman, in particular, Oberyn, when the topic of their revenge against the Lannisters came up. 

Oberyn would most likely back a safe claim like that, and she took advantage of that.

“I can make my way towards Winterfell on Dragonback in less than a fortnight and dismount close enough for no one to see me, and I will send a raven for you from Winterfell once I have the egg.”

Doran looked contemplating. “And your ally, the Bastard of Winterfell… how sure are you that he can be trusted?”

The Dornish are the most trusting of baseborn people in all of Westeros. This shouldn’t be a hard sell.

“Enough to trust him with this sort of mission. He is someone who will never stab me in the back.” Daenerys said with a bitter smile. 

“I would fly northward in two months or so,” She said. “It would give time for Drogon to get more comfortable flying with me.” And time for the war to be ready to start.

Doran looked at her again and slowly nodded. “A fourth dragon… I trust you to get the egg safely, princess.”

For the next month and a half, Daenerys practiced flying on Drogon. She was never actually afforded the chance to practice before, so this was a welcome opportunity.

Each time she flew, Viserys was in attendance. She gave him advice for when he was actually able to fly.

Another thing was her request for a dragon saddle to be made. There were blueprints and records of them in the materials she got from Doran’s people in the Citadel.

While she was fine riding without a saddle before she died, she wouldn’t say no to a comfort like that now that she was going to fly across half of Westeros. It was ready in less than two weeks. She assumed that the request was prioritised by whoever approached the maker. 

In the time before she left, she rode on Drogon more times than she did before she died. 

She did have to return the saddle for fixing. One time because some of the straps almost ripped apart when flying, and the other to make some of the saddle itself bigger so that it would fit Drogon even after he grew a bit.

Viserys, as she saw, held in his hands half a tome he wrote in every time she flew on Drogon. 

“I’m taking notes. About flying.” was his answer when she asked what he was doing.

Viserys told her about the case of the kid with no tongue. She thought it may have been a one time thing. 

She didn’t expect there to be two more. 

The entire population of the Water Gardens had their mouths checked now, and the guards were on higher alert. 

The tongueless kids could not actually say who sent them, since at that point it was obvious that they were working for someone. 

If I ever meet the person these kids are working for, I will feed him to Drogon. She thought. The idea of taking a kid’s tongue out disgusted her to no end.

It was the night Daenerys left. She was supposed to fly away in the morning, but she decided to do so earlier for a couple of reasons, chief among them being the fact she didn’t mention Rhaegal was joining her to any of the Martells. 

She was going to meet the Starks in the Riverlands, and she hoped Jon heeded her warning and stayed with his cousin.

Luckily, she could tie some things to Drogon’s saddle, much like saddlebags. She didn’t like the idea very much, but she had to take some things with her.

She took some rations to last her until she got out of Dorne. After that, she could probably just pick some things here and there from the land. It was summer, and the Reach and the Riverlands were bountiful. 

The dragons themselves could hunt. It was no problem for Drogon to do it on the Dothraki sea, and now he was even bigger than he was then.

She took her black armor, a map of Westeros, and the evidence that she had from Oldtown about Rhaegar’s marriage to Lyanna Stark. 

She looked at the house that she lived in for more than a year. The room she slept in, the places where the dragons slept and the courtyard with the lemon tree she asked for in the middle. 

Some part of her didn’t want to leave. The life here, secluded from most of the world, was peaceful.

But peace had its time and place. Peace will soon vanish from Westeros. She knew that even now, a host of Northerners were marching towards the Riverlands to start what will be called “The war of the five kings”.

After that, no place in Westeros would be peaceful. Not until they dealt with the Others across the wall. 

During the last time she was alive, she understood how her sort of peace was asserted. 

A peaceful, living realm. A place where no one owns another person, where the living aren’t running from the threat of the dead. A realm where the Iron Throne is back at its rightful hands.

To achieve this realm, she had to show mercy to her allies, while leaving her enemies with only fire and blood.

But there was one last thing she needed to do before flying towards making this vision into the world she was living in.

Viserys. She needed to ask something of her brother, and also bid him goodbye.

She went to face her brother. The moment was a bit somber. They spent two years together.

Viserys spoke first. “Dany. I will never be able to repay you for bringing the dragons back. These two years…” he stopped to take a breath. “These two years we spent with them were the best of my life. Father, and mother and Rhaegar would be proud of us.” 

Hearing her big brother’s name, as well as her mother’s in this situation was certainly heartwarming, but she knew all too well that the only one of them who would actually be proud would be her father. She did burn the capital, after all…

“You are going to get the North on our side, and we are going to win the Throne back.” He said, taking up a wrapped bundle.

“But like I do with Blackfyre, you should also have a symbol of Targaryen legitimacy. Aside from Drogon and Rhaegal, that is.” He unwrapped the Valyrian Steel Circlet.

Her eyes widened at the sight. She was actually about to ask him to bring her the crown, but she didn’t expect that he would do it without being asked.

“When they see you, they should see a princess. And besides, you gifted me a helmet, so I can’t wear this as much as you can.”

That was true. She purposefully left her own suit of black armor without a helmet so that she could wear a crown.

“This is the second crown I parted ways with. I hope to actually get this one back.” 

Daenerys nodded. “When you are king, you can have this crown back.”

If I actually die and you take the throne, you will at least have this… But I don’t plan to do that anytime soon. She thought. At least she didn’t lie.

She took the circlet from her brother and wore it. It fitted her head, although it was a bit too big, but it was nothing that the braiding her long hair right couldn’t solve.

They hugged each other. 

This was the reason she saved her brother. She could have left him to die. She could have just abandoned him to his fate and taken off with her dragons.

But she decided that he deserved a second chance. 

This was the moment. They separated as Daenerys mounted Drogon.

“Take care of Viserion when I’m not here.

The last thing she saw before Drogon took off was the solemn expression on Viserys’s face.

Westeros looked amazing in the summer. Dorne was hot, sure, but the wind that she felt from atop Drogon was cool and nice. 

After two days, the Reach was in sight. Going through the Stormlands and the Crownlands might be faster, but she didn’t want to risk being caught in a storm, and the reach was larger and had more wildlife for the dragons to feast upon.

The greenery reminded her of the Dothraki Sea, but she traveled through the Reach much faster than she ever did the Dothraki Sea.

Daenerys, Drogon and Rhaegal moved infrequently. This time at night, that time at day. When they stopped, Daenerys tried to find the most secluded and hidden places she could for them to rest. 

It made traveling a bit hard, since she wanted to stay stationary at night, so as to not be seen by any wanderers or travelers, but she also preferred flying at night so that no one would notice the dragons in the sky. 

The solution presented itself in the form of the map Daenerys took with her to not get lost.

Whenever she made a stop, she looked towards the map and saw if the areas in front of her were supposed to be more or less populated. 

If there were many people, she would risk resting during the day to not be seen while flying through the night. 

If the area was more deserted than not, Daenerys flew during the day to not accidentally be seen resting by any travelers.

One of the advantages that flying a dragon had was that even if a person saw a dragon fly above them, no one would actually believe them. To everyone, dragons being gone was a fact.

After a gruelling week of travel through Dorne and the Reach, Daenerys and her two dragons were already flying in Riverlands territory. Her destination was the area around the whispering wood, and from there to the twins to try and intercept the stark host.

And a day after, she managed to see them.

She saw armies before, but the forces of the north were at least 4 times as large as they were when they stood against the dead at Winterfell, and their numbers were possibly even larger. 

She noted that they were on their way towards Riverrun, but weren’t quite there yet.

That left Daenerys with time. She would trail the army until they were in position to strike at the Lannister forces in the Whispering Woods. 

Now, Daenerys had only one task left.

How am I supposed to make a good impression on Robb Stark?

Chapter Text

          The Killer - Arya II

Arya didn’t know what was happening anymore.

It all started in a misunderstanding. Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, attacked her lord father and escaped the city. 

Then, according to her father, the Riverlands were attacked by the Lannisters.
Arya heard what happened after that. Her father dispatched Beric Dondarrion, the lightning lord, with a group to help the Riverlanders fend off the attackers, and then Robb called the banners of the north to go and help.

It was hard for Arya to imagine. Her brother, leading an army like that.

Arya herself was doing much better. Syrio was actually impressed with her skill at water dancing ever since she met him, and while she didn’t actually win any fights with him, she could see that she was good, and that Syrio was better.

She couldn’t actually imagine anyone beating Syrio in a fight. Even if he was past his prime.

So on the day when the Lannister men and Meryn Trant came to take her, Arya listened to Syrio. She fled. She knew that they would meet later.

Arya needed to see her father. She had a destination in mind. She would head to her room, for the slight chance that her father was close by in the tower of the hand or that someone of their household would know of his location.

And more than that. There were other things she needed from her room. She had to get to Nymeria and get Needle. If she was attacked again she would prefer to be armed. 

And lastly. Bran and Sansa. She knew that Bran was likely with Ser Barristan, but she didn’t know where Sansa might be, and she had to check there. Their wolves will also be there, so if she got to them, they would most likely help her find her siblings.

And so Arya ran. She was quick as a viper, and she knew her way well, having to chase all of the cats around, as instructed by Syrio.

She got to her room quickly. Nymeria waited for her inside, and when Arya entered the room, Nymeria rose to her feet, almost like she sensed the tension present in Arya.

Arya wasted no time in bolting to the chest where her belongings were stored and grabbing her sword. Needle felt more than natural in her hand. She sheathed it and turned towards the door, only for Nymeria to release a deep growl and bear her fangs.

Arya heard a whimper. One that belonged to… Arya ran out of her room. 

Ser Meryn Trant of the Kingsguard stood in the entrance to Sansa’s room. Sword unsheathed. Both of his blade and his white cloak were bloodied.

He looked towards them and advanced. Nymeria growled and Arya instinctively unsheathed Needle.

Escape. We need to run. He’s a knight of the Kingsguard, in full armor. We can’t beat him. Not now.

“Nymeria!” Arya called to her wolf, but the Knight was upon her. He swung his sword at the direwolf, but Nymeria dodged the blow and tried to bite him. 

But it was for naught. Armor stopped her fangs. He backed and swung his sword again, aiming for Nymeria’s side.

Arya lounged, Needle catching the knight’s sword on its flat and diverting its course from hitting the direwolf. 

Meryn looked towards Arya, who held Needle in her hand and looked at him with pure contempt.

The whimper from Sansa’s room. The blood on his cape and blade. Arya knew what he did.

She lunged towards him, Nymeria in tow.

Arya quickly realized that even with a direwolf at her side, she, a girl of twelve with a nimble blade, was no match against an adult, fully armored knight. 

She realized that she made a mistake. But the voice in her head that told her to kill Meryn Trant was really insistent. 

She tried stabbing him, but he blocked. He actually attacked her back with his sword, but he missed. 

Arya’s greatest advantage in the fight was her speed. As a young girl, she was quick and nimble, especially when compared to a man in a full suit of armor. 

Arya diverted her foe’s blows. She couldn’t actually block anything, so the best she could do was dodge or divert the strike with Needle. Meryn had the edge on her in the matter of physical strength.

Twice Nymeria tried to attack, but to little effect. 

Arya was tiring fast. She trained with Syrio, ran as quick as she could through the red keep, and now fought an actual knight of the Kingsguard. 

She realized that escape was the only option, and started thinking about how to do that, only to be distracted by a sound. She knew that sound, but couldn’t quite place it. 

Distracted, she was caught by a strong blow. She staggered backwards.

Nymeria prepared to pounce on Ser Meryn, but before it could happen, the sound of a direwolf running intensified and Ser Meryn was tackled to the ground by Summer. 

The knight reached for his sword, but Nymeria pounced on him. She and Summer pinned him down and Arya didn’t miss the opportunity. 

Nymeria pinned the man’s arm and torso, trying to bite at it, and while failing at that, she managed to prevent him from grabbing his sword.

As if knowing her plan, Summer reached for the man’s helmet. Arya advanced cautiously but as quickly as she could. With some effort Summer managed to take off the man’s helmet only for Arya to impale his eye with Needle. 

Immediately after, Nymeria jumped and tore at the man’s throat. There was no opposition, and soon, Ser Meryn Trant of the kingsguard was no more than a corpse.

Arya huffed. Actual battle was tiring. 

She heard running from the hallway. Arya lifted her sword, but neither Summer nor Nymeria growled or beard their fangs. 

Arya quickly understood why. It was Bran. Arya sheathed Needle and hugged her brother. It was great to know he was fine. 

She wanted to ask him where he was. If he could’ve helped her, perhaps. He also learned the sword, and from Ser Barristan himself. 

But Arya had the weirdest feeling. She felt like Bran was there during the fight. Like they did fight side-by-side.

“Where’s Sansa?” She asked. “I don’t know,” Bran quickly answered and went towards her room. “But she isn’t here.”

“And…” Arya knew the answer already. “Lady?” She asked. “Gone.” The reply was short and somber.

“We need to get away from here.” Bran said.

Arya’s first thought was protest. “What about Sansa? And Father?” She asked, almost angry that Bran neglected them.

“Lannister men are all around the castle. We may have the direwolves, but we still can’t beat them,” he said with a flat voice. “Escaping and planning what to do is the right step for now.” 

An idea came up to Arya. “What about Ser Barristan? He could help us!” She suggested. 

“I don’t know where he is…” Bran admitted. “I don’t think we can find him in this place before finding enemies,” he said.

Bran looked towards the fallen knight’s sword. He grabbed the longsword with his two arms. It was almost too big for him, and looked more like a bastard sword or even a greatsword in Bran’s hands. He took the scabbard from Meryn’s lifeless body, slung it over his shoulder and sheathed the sword.

And so they ran. 

Surprisingly, they both seemed to know where to go to not encounter anyone, or to lose those who actually did see them. It almost seemed that they had senses like their wolves had.

They quickly managed to get to the stables without anyone finding them, but they were interrupted quickly when they heard footsteps coming after them. A lot of footsteps. 

Bran and Arya looked at each other and ran into the streets of King’s Landing, wolves in tow. It would be hard to move with them, but the wolves could protect them if need be.

What they needed now was some place to hide before trying to understand what happened with their father.

          The Young Wolf - Robb II

“M’lord,” The man said, “Someone on the edge of the camp calls you.”

Robb looked up from the battle map. He was standing near a map of the battlefield alongside his bannerman and some of the riverman like house Malister and the remnant of his uncle Edmure’s host, now led by Ser Brynden Tully.

His mother, Catelyn and his brother Jon were also in the room, and the direwolves Ghost and Grey Wind were sitting outside.

The sun had nearly set by that time.

The man was dressed like a guard, not a messenger. If he came, the person wishing to speak to Robb was most likely not part of his host, or they caused a ruckus. 

Exactly before we’re heading into battle… If this is a lord coming to pledge soldiers to us…

“If you come to me, I assume that the person is a representative of a noble lord? What flag are they flying?”

“N-no flag, M’lord. She doesn’t need to. She asked for lord Robb and Jon Snow, if he is here…”

What does it mean, doesn’t need to fly a banner? And who would ask for Jon?

“I will go as well,” Catelyn said. 

It was a welcome help. His mother knew the Riverlords better than he did.

Jon, Robb and Catelyn walked flanked by two guards with their direwolves in toe.

Robb understood why the girl didn’t need to fly a banner. Not only was she alone, but it was clear who she was.

She was around his age in years. The torchlight lighted the silver blond hair and violet eyes that her house was famous for. 

A Targaryen stood before him. Of that, Robb was certain. He couldn’t fathom why a Targaryn would come in front of his army alone.

Robb noticed the violet eyes looking at both him, his mother, the direwolves and stopping on Jon.

Not a surprise, Jon looks more a Stark than I do.

Robb was about to introduce himself, but she then looked at him. “Are you lord Robb Stark?”

“Yes.” He answered. Her knowing that means she was informed beforehand…

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She looked at them again. “My name is Daenerys Targaryen.” She said, “You have my condolences.” 

The words reached Robb, who froze in shock. Condolences? He could guess for what, but… that thought frightened him. 

He couldn’t see the looks on Jon and his mother’s faces. He completely focused on the girl in front of him.

“For… condolences for what?” he asked. He hoped that it wasn’t what he feared. 

That made her brows rise a little in surprise. “You… don’t know?” She asked. “I hate to be the one telling you this, but… Your father, Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, was executed on orders of the boy-king Joffrey Baratheon after admitting guilt of treason.”

The silence after that declaration was deafening. Robb looked to the floor. He couldn’t process what she said.

His father. Gone. Executed. 

“How do you know that?” He heard his mother’s voice. It was filled with both worry and what seemed like pain, but it was also laced with scepticism.

Robb was also sceptical. He wanted to believe that Daenerys was wrong. He prayed that she was.

“Words spread quickly, and I come from the south as well. I would ask how you don’t know that, but it’s clear that the Lannister men shoot any raven headed for your army, and that men carrying news from your allies must be on their way here.”

That actually made sense. A lot of sense. And it scared Robb. And the tears started falling.

He looked at her again. He wanted to… he didn’t know what he wanted to do.

“I understand what it’s like, to lose your father to the Lannisters.” She said with a somber look.

That took him by surprise for a moment. But then he heard his mother again. “That’s not true. Ned- Lord Eddard would never admit to treason. He would rather…” Her voice stopped.

Daenerys shifted her gaze. 

“And if his daughters’ lives were on the line? Not just his own?” she answered with a question.

That took Robb out of his pity, even for a second. He was now filled with worry for his siblings. Worry and anger. If the Lannisters killed his father that means that they were also holding Bran, Arya and Sansa hostage.

“Arya, Sansa, Bran…Did they hurt them?” He asked her, a bit more angry than he would have liked, but he didn’t care that much. Not now at least.

She was slightly surprised at the mention of Bran, but quickly recovered. “I have heard no news of Bran, but I did hear that Joffrey is a cruel person. I do fear for your sister Sansa.”

Robb remembered Joffrey from Winterfell. He couldn’t bear the thought of his sister being hurt by him.

But that led him to another realization.

He looked at Daenerys. “Why are you here?”

He just now realized how weird it was for a Targaryen to tell him of his father’s death.

“Because we both share a common goal,” She started. “We both want revenge against the Lannisters, justice for what happened to our families, and we can both find it in King’s Landing.”

The Iron Throne. She wants to take the Iron Throne.

“We share the same enemies.”

She has no soldiers. Robb looked behind her. She wants the army I have.

“No,” Robb said, his voice filling with anger. “You want the Iron Throne. You went here because I have an army and you need my help.” 

Her expression changed to a weird one in the face of the accusation. Robb didn’t know what it was, and he didn’t really want to find out.

“So. If you want to make an alliance, what do you offer?” he could feel the tears. He was angry, he was sad, he was… he didn’t even know what he was anymore.

She looked up to the sky behind her and said what sounded like two or three words in a language Robb didn’t understand. He thought it was Valyrian, but he didn’t really care.

She looked at him again. Robb looked at her, trying to figure out what she was going to say. What she could offer.

And then the wind started. He felt his hair sway and his tears being swept from his cheeks.

“I offer you Fire and Blood.”

And then silence. Only the wind was howling for around 10 seconds. Robb didn’t know how to react. Didn’t know what to say. What do you say to-

It landed behind her. 

Robb heard the stories. Like every kid in the seven kingdoms, he heard the stories. The story of Why there was one king and seven kingdoms. 

It was because Aegon the Conqueror took the seven kingdoms and forged the Iron Throne with his Dragon, Balerion the Black Dread.

And now Balerion was in front of his eyes. 

The stories said that he was big enough to swallow a wheelhouse whole, and this creature wasn’t that big, but those were only stories. This was reality. Or at least, Robb thought it was reality.

It was big. The biggest thing Robb saw in his life. Bigger than even three horses . He thought.

Her hand pointed to the side. The word “Dracarys” left her mouth, and the world became warmer. Robb was sure of that. 

Black flames streamed out of the Dragon’s mouth. Robb never saw a fire like that. Black with red edges. It quickly stopped. 

As much as Robb wanted to keep his eyes on the dragon, he forced himself to look at Daenerys. Really look at her.

She was clad in armor of blackened steel. Her hair was braided, her violet eyes looked right at him. On her head was a circlet of some sort of metal that took him a moment to identify.
Valyrian Steel. It was adorned with Rubies. 

And Robb understood. 

He understood a lot of the words of the great houses. The Tullies valued family more than anything, the Starks always warned of winter, the Lannisters were narcissistic pricks. 

But the meaning, the true meaning of Fire and Blood always evaded him.

Until now. 

Now, he understood. The Lannisters outnumbered his men. He didn’t have any experience in battle. The situation didn’t look good for him.

But with a dragon… With a dragon he could avenge his father, rescue his siblings… 

Daenerys had a weird look on her face, but quickly changed it back to a serious one. 

“What are your terms?” Robb asked.

“First, I lead from the front. You attack the Lannisters on the ground, I burn them from the sky,” She stopped to take a breath, “I am not the kind to just let people fight in my name while doing nothing.”

Robb nodded. 

“Second. What you get from this alliance. I understand that our houses have bad blood between them. Once I have the Iron Throne, I will make a declaration that my father’s acts against your family were cruel and unjust.”

Robb realized exactly who her father was at that moment, but… he didn’t care much. 

She reached for a pack on her back, opened it and took out a tome.

“I will also do what is in my power to help you get your siblings, your father’s bones, your family’s Valyrian steel sword and everything else still in King’s Landing. Also, When we get to that part, and if he doesn’t fall in battle before that, I will let you do as you wish with the boy-king Joffrey, provided I can do the same with the Kingslayer.” she said.

Robb suddenly did care about who her father was. They were about to meet the Kingslayer on the field. 

He’s called that… Kingslayer…

“Third,” She said. “I do understand that gaining the loyalty of houses like yours will be hard when I sit the Iron Throne, so I do come with an offer of marriage.”

At that point, Robb could only think of how his mother went away and betrothed him to a Frey.

“However I do understand that you are already betrothed, so…” She looked towards Jon. “You are unmarried, correct?” Robb couldn’t help but notice a slight smile on her face.

Catelyn almost immediately jumped. “Jon is a bastard.” She said. Robb thought it a bit rude, but it was very understandable in that situation.

Daenerys looked at Catelyn with one eyebrow raised. “I can solve that.”

Robb understood. She was about to legitimize Jon.

“Rhaegal, Ilagon!” She called to the sky again. It was almost like the same words she said earlier, but one was different.

And the wind blew again.

Another Dragon landed. This one had jade and bronze colored scales. It wasn’t as big as the first one, but it was still a Dragon.

She has two of them… Robb’s thoughts returned to the field of battle. He thought he could win with one dragon. With two of them…

“Jon,” She turned to his brother. “Would you mind trying to touch Rhaegal here?” She pointed to the green-scaled dragon.

Robb looked at Jon worried, but Jon’s eyes were locked with Daenerys’s. He hesitated a little before he strode towards the dragon. He lifted his hand forward as the green dragon looked at him and…

Licked his hand.

Although something seemed to have happened to Jon. When he touched the Dragon, He jolted backwards, as if he woke in a panic. 

“Are you fine?” Robb quickly asked.

Jon looked at him with wide eyes. “Robb?” He looked shaken. “Aye. I’m-I’m fine.” He said looking at Daenerys again.

“If it was anyone else,” She started. “They would most likely lose their arm. Rhaegal isn’t used to any of your company yet, so he may be somewhat aggressive.”

“Then why did you tell Jon to do it?” Robb was somewhat angry now, since she risked his brother like that.

“You misunderstand. The only person who could get close to a dragon like that is-” 

“A Targaryen…” Catelyn finished, looking at Jon,

“Correct,” Daenerys quickly said. “And since there was only one Targaryen woman living in the world at the time of his birth, and she was carrying me…”

“Lord Stark wasn’t my father.” Jon said. It was more a statement than a question, but Robb looked at him weirdly.

“But Jon is a Stark." Daenerys hurried to say. "His eyes, hair, and the direwolf are obvious signs of that.”

Jon is a Targaryen and a Stark… But then who…

“There was only one option for a Targaryen-Stark union at the time of your birth.” She told Jon.

But Robb understood. “Your brother… he and my aunt…” Daenerys nodded. She offered the tome she took out earlier to Catelyn.

“This is an account of a Septon taken from the Citadel in Oldtown.” Robb looked at his mother, who read the account in the torchlight.

“My brother’s marriage to Elia Martell of Dorne was dissolved, and he married Lyanna Stark of Winterfell…” 

“This doesn’t make sense… Then why didn’t they tell anyone?” Robb asked. 

“I don’t know, I wasn’t born at the time…” she answered him.

“Jon grew up under lord Eddard, and he is of both Stark and Targaryen blood. It is a family custom of house Targaryen, under the laws of Jaehaerys I, that allows Targaryens to intermarry.” She took a deep breath. 

“As Lyanna’s son, Jon isn’t high in the line of succession to Winterfell, but he is of suitable age and my house’s tradition calls for it.”

“We’ll take the Iron Throne, crush the Lannisters, and I will make sure that no southern house will slight the north again.” Daenerys said.

Robb thought. He wasn’t about to let Joffrey live. Not after what he did to his father. And Daenerys… he didn’t know her, but with Jon in there…

“There’s one last thing,” He said. “I can’t make a deal like that without asking Jon. It’s his marriage I’ll be signing. It’s his choice.”

He couldn’t sign off his brother to just be married like that. Everyone looked towards Jon. Robb knew what he would say. It was just… His mother signed him to marry the Freys without asking. He couldn’t do the same to Jon.

“I agree.” Jon said. No hesitation whatsoever.

“Good.” Daenerys replied and then looked to Robb. “I will join you in fighting the Lannisters then. What are your plans?”

Robb knew that the deal he made changed his life. For better or worse he didn’t care right now. What he cared for was getting revenge against the Lannisters, and with the Dragons that Daenerys had… 

“Come with me.” He said and started to walk back to the tent where his bannermen were.

The walk through the camp was something Robb never thought he would experience. They walked where the horses usually rode through, so that the dragons could walk with them after Daenerys said that they wouldn’t harm anyone if they weren’t approached by anyone without her being there.

They walked behind them, like some honor guard, and the people in camp all looked in shock. At the dragons first, and then at the Targaryen queen wearing Black armor and a crown of Valyrian steel.

Outside of the tent, Robb’s bannermen and the Blackfish waited. The looks on their faces when they saw the dragons was just like anyone else in camp. Pure owe.

“There’s… much to discuss.” Robb told them.

Daenerys took over explaining the situation. Robb was relieved. Talking about his father’s death… wasn’t what he wanted to do right now.

She briefly explained how his father was killed and how she joined their fight against the Lannisters with her dragons. 

“I will fly with you to battle on Drogon. Rhaegal, the green dragon, is not big enough to carry a rider yet, so he will stay behind, but soon enough, Jon will be able to ride him.” She said.

The present bannermen all looked towards Jon. Even Robb had a hard time imagining his brother, or rather, his cousin, was actually a trueborn Targaryen.

They decided to go with their original plan. They would lure the Lannisters out and hit them, but this time, from the air as well as the ground.

When he could, Robb called the meeting off. The lords understood, and all expressed their condolences for his father as they left. 

He left as well, trying to find a place to vent his anger to.

          The Lost Prince - Jon IV

After the meeting, Jon and Daenerys found a quiet tent to themselves.

When they were alone, they turned to each other.

“Jon,” She started. “How much do you remember?”

“Everything.” He said somberly. “I only remembered bits and pieces until I touched Rhaegal.”

“Dragons are said to enhance magic.” She said, “I know it isn’t worth much, but I am sorry for what happened in King’s Landing. I am going to make sure this doesn’t happen again.” She had a look of guilt on her face.

“I am also sorry. For… killing you.” He said. He sometimes regretted doing that, but… That was selfish. He did what he had to do.

“Thank you, but… you were justified. I don’t know how far I would have gone if you didn’t stop me. I’m… not like that now. I’m not going to burn King’s Landing again.”

They stood silently before Jon brought it up. “Marriage?” he asked.

“Well… It worked to get the north on our side, and probably the riverlands as well. You have the better claim, I have the dragons.” She said. “And…”

Jon knew what she meant. She was a queen and had a dragon. She could just as well fly to the twins and dissolve the marriage pact with the… Freys…

“I am not letting Robb marry a Frey.” He said coldly. 

“Once we get the Iron Throne, we fly to the twins and nicely tell the freys that extorting someone on their way to help their liege lord instead of freely sending their men to help won’t be tolerated again.” She assured him. 

“Unless Arya remembers too. If that is the case, I assume she would want Lord Walder’s head. I can’t blame her.”

Jon thought to the meating with Arya and Bran in the Godswood. “She should. Bran should as well…”

“And Sansa?” 

“Not that I know.” Jon said. 

“Back to the topic of marriage…” Daenerys said. “Yes. I made a selfish choice. I still love you, even if you killed me.” She said. It was somewhat awkward. But Jon understood.

“I… feel the same.” He said.

And they hugged. This time, without a dagger.

Jon missed this. Back in Winterfell, the idea that he’d actually known Daenerys seemed impossible. Out of place. But now…

“Thank you.”

It was a long minute. Neither wanted to actually separate. But eventually they did.

Daenerys sighed. “From what I understand, Bran is in King’s Landing?” she asked Jon. 

“Aye. He went there with Lord Stark.” Jon then was hit with a realization. “Bran can walk…” He looked at Daenerys. 

“I did send a letter to you telling you to watch your brother.” 

“And you also said to not join the watch…” His thoughts immediately went to the Wall. His friends at the watch. His… 

Jon looked down, almost expecting to find the stab wounds he got from the mutineers. But he was dressed, and they weren’t there.

“The wall.” He said. 

“You can do more for the watch when we take the Iron Throne.” Daenerys replied. “There are a lot of people here who defied us. They can go to the wall.”

That reminded him of something else. 

“Dany. You told me to help Bran. You came here to help us win against the Lannisters. Why didn’t you help my fa-Uncle?” He quickly fixed himself.

Daenerys sighed. “And how would I have done this? I could help you with Bran, sure what could I have said? That Robert’s children weren’t his own? That the Lannisters would murder him as they did Jon Arryn? I don’t have any proof of any of that.”

“You could have still tried.” He said. He was a bit angry now. She could have tried. 

“And what would that do? You’d go to lord Stark, tell him that, and he would ask who told you that. Would you say that you have been in contact with a time-traveling dragon-raising exiled princess?”

Jon thought about it. “No… It would make no sense.” 

“Even if I had proof, it would have still been impossible for you to have that.”

“You could’ve come here earlier.” He said. “You could have warned us.”

“I didn’t exactly choose where to land in time.” She said. “I came as soon as I was certain Drogon was big enough to take me here. If he was big enough to fly two people for long distances, I would’ve considered landing in the great sept of Baelor and picking your uncle from there, but Drogon isn’t big enough, and I can’t afford to risk myself or the dragons.” She said.

“And why is that?” he asked, a bit bitterly. She knew he was going to lose the closest thing he had to a parent. And she still did nothing.

“Jon, we’re back in time. That means that we haven’t dealt with the others yet.”

Jon froze.

“You do remember how vital the dragons are to deal with them, right? I risk myself and it risks our best weapons against them.”

He looked at her.

“We unify Westeros and stand against the others with all the seven kingdoms at our backs. And we know how to deal with them this time.” 

Jon thought. He thought of anything she could’ve done for his uncle without risking herself and the Dragons.

The Dragons…

“Where’s the third one?” He asked “Where’s Viserion?” 

Jon remembered the undead dragon flying through the sky. He did not want to face that again.

“With my brother. They are in Dorne. Once we take Riverrun, we’ll send a raven to Sunspear and call them. Oberyn Martell swore vengeance against the Lannisters for what they did to his sister and Viserys married Arianne Martell.”

Jon’s eyes widened. “Dorne is on our side? And your brother is alive?” 

Daenerys nodded. “I’m not going to let the others claim one of my dragons again.”

“Keep in mind. I could’ve not said a thing to you and just keep doing like I did before. I could’ve done the same things and come back to Westeros with the Dothraki and Unsullied but this time take King’s Landing before we met. I would be queen and we wouldn’t have to face the Lannisters after we deal with the dead.” She stopped for a breath. “I came here early because you suffered. And all your family suffered. I wanted to change that. If we marry, they’re my family as well.”

“I didn’t want you to die again.” 

She hugged him again. 

“I never had much of a family. My brother was there when I grew up, but even if he’s better now, he was dumb and cruel before. I felt like family with the Dothraki, but that lasted for less than a year. I hope I can feel like that with you.”

Jon didn’t know how to respond, but they just kept in each other’s arms. 

I’m not going to let her turn mad again. Jon resolved in his head.

          The Son - Robb III

He was gone.

His father was gone. He went south and he would never come back.

After the war meeting and introducing Daenerys to everyone else, Robb went away.

He went to the edge of camp. Unsheathed his sword, and started hacking at a tree. He just needed to let his rage, his anger, his sadness and his grief go. 

The tears rolled as the sword hacked. Once, and twice and three times until the tree was down.

And he just sat there. And thought. About his mother, who will never get to see Ned again. And about Rickon, who might be too little to ever remember his father. And Bran. Sansa and Arya… Daenerys said that the Lannisters executed her father. They must have forced his siblings to watch.

“I hoped to find you here.” he heard Daenerys’s voice before he saw her.

Robb didn’t really want to speak with her. Not now, at least.

“I really am sorry that I was the one who told you that. I’m sorry I couldn’t meet your father. He was an honorable man.” She said.

Robb didn’t know how to respond. At least, in the beginning. It was clear to him after a moment.

It was flattery. Daenerys wanted to get something out of him, and he was not in the mood for that.

“Flattery would get you nowhere.” He said, with a tad more disdain than he cared to.

“It’s not flattery.” She said flatly. “Small as it be, I owe your father a debt.”

That was unexpected. Robb looked at her. “What do you mean? What sort of debt?”

“Have you ever heard about Elia Martell?” She asked back.

“She was Rhaegar’s wife. Before my aunt.” he added that last part hastily. It was still hard to believe.

“During the sack of King’s Landing, by Tywin Lannister’s soldiers, he dispatched two men, Ser Amory Lorch and Ser Gregor Clegane, to go and kill Elia Martell and Rhaegar’s two children, Aegon and Rhaenys.” She took a moment to breathe. Robb assumed that the topic was hard to talk about.

“Ser Amory Lorch stabbed the three-years old Rhaenys with what people said to be half-a-hundred thrusts. Little Aegon was bashed against the wall and the man who did this then raped his mother with her son’s blood on his hands before killing her too. And when these corpses were presented to Robert when he arrived in King’s Landing no-one dared to say a thing against this vile act. Except for your father.”

Robb was horrified. He heard the tales about the Mountain’s brutality from his attacks on the Riverlands, but… Something like that?

He looked at Daenerys again. She had more reason for fighting against the Lannisters than he knew.

“Your father and Ser Barristan Selmy were the only two who said that Jaime Lannister had to be punished for breaking his oath and killing my father.”

That, Robb knew. He noticed that his father disliked the Kingslayer when they were in Winterfell. He now realized why his father felt such animosity towards the Lannisters.

“Your father spoke against the horrible things done to my family. And that’s not the end of it. Did you hear about your father falling out with Robert?”

Robb nodded.

“It happened because of me. I was just born at the time. Me and my brother Viserys were hiding on Dragonstone. My mother died delivering me and Stannis Baratheon was on his way to the castle. Ser Willem Darry helped us escape to Braavos. Robert just secured his rule, and we were the last threats against his claim, aside from Jon.”

Robb thought about what she said. A babe and a little kid were threats to the king. He could barely fathom such a thing.

“So Robert decided to send assassins on us. To try and kill us just like that. And his court agreed with him…”

“Aside from my father.” Robb finished.

“He asked Robert if the murder of children was how he wanted his reign to start and urged him not to. Robert didn’t listen, and your father went north.”

“And if you find it hard to believe, just remember. During that time, your father had Jon with him. A babe, just like I was. Your father saw me as more than just a Targaryen. He spoke for me when I couldn’t speak for myself. Granted, me and my brother still escaped assassins for most of our lives, but lord Eddard was the only one who opposed the idea.”

Robb nodded. In a sense… It made him feel good. It made him feel good that even after his… death, Robb could still hear about his father’s good deeds.

“I could have flown to Highgarden and asked to marry a Tyrell. They would have said yes in a heartbeat after seeing Drogon, and I would have had a much bigger army and the richest kingdom by my side. I choose to come north since I owe your father for trying to speak up against what was done to my family.”

“Thank you.” He said. “But, can I ask you a question? Why did you come here?” He actually tried to sound as polite as possible. 

“I don’t remember my own father, and every time someone speaks about him, they rightly call him ‘The Mad King’. Your father did good things. I thought hearing about them will lift your spirits a little. Sorry if this wasn’t welcome.” Daenerys turned to leave. 

“No. Thank you,” Robb said. “You did actually make me feel better.” 

“I’m happy to hear that. You should probably talk with people right now, not just stay alone like that. It might help you.”

“Aye… That sounds like a good idea.” Robb rose up to his legs and walked back to the center of camp.

Chapter Text

          The Fire in the Sky - Daenerys VII

After her conversation with Robb, Daenerys went to sleep in an actual camp for the first time in a tenday. It was a lot more comfortable than how she slept on her way there.

She and Jon shared a tent. They didn’t do anything particular before going to sleep that night, simply because Daenerys was tired. 

Apparently, flying for around 9 days straight with very little breaks wasn’t all that recommended.

Still, it was nice being in the company of someone who knew her. Probably the man who knew her best, because only he knew that they traveled through time to the past.

Daenerys now had an army. 

She heard the saying “In combat, one Northerner equals ten Southerners.” She hoped that was true.

She didn’t understand how hard she had it in Essos before. The Unsullied were a mostly defensive force. They moved slowly in formation and had no ranged capabilities like shooting a bow.

The Dothraki were a purely offensive Cavalry force. They could smash into the enemy with their horses or shoot from range with their recurve bows but had only two defensive manoeuvres: Escaping, or pretend to be escaping while regathering themselves and striking again.

None of these two military forces that she commanded actually wore armor . The Unsullied had quilted leather tunics, but these did not compare to Westerosi armor.

The north’s army, or at least the 6,000 soldiers that Robb had with him, were so varied compared to the armies she did know. There were archers, cavalry, infantry, and all were wearing actual armor.

She did see the Westerosi armies of the North and the Vale when they fought against the others, but she didn’t really notice these things. It was too dark to see almost anything.

Just like the battle plans that the northern lords went over last night, Robb and the Tully men were luring the Lannisters into a trap. 

Daenerys was watching the battle from atop of Drogon. They were atop a hill away from the ambush zone.

Rhaegal stayed in camp. Jon and Robb went to fight on the field themselves. Daenerys was just waiting for the Lannisters to get into position before she and Drogon took off. 

I always fought on Drogon’s bare back, never with a saddle before… I wonder how it will feel…

She thought it happened. The Lannister host overextended. 

“Drogon, sōvegon!” She said. Her dragon understood the Valyrian words. Wings extended and Drogon took to the sky.

She saw the fight from the air. The Lannisters were in the center while Robb’s soldiers bore on them from all three sides. When they realized that they fell into a trap, they tried to organize a retreat. 

Daenerys and Drogon were almost in range. She looked closely at the Lannister lines, checking for any position she wanted to attack.

She found it. She would attack the back of their lines to prevent a retreat.

They were in range, and Drogon dove out of the sky.

She thought that some of the Lannister soldiers might have seen them. She knew that the Northerners and Riverman already knew that she was going to help.

Drogon opened his wings, the wind carrying him forward in speeds beyond anything that wasn't flying. They were now above Lannister soldiers.

“Dracarys!” Daenerys called.

Drogon roared. The air got hotter, and a stream of black flames bursted out from Drogon’s opened jaw. 

Robb’s men cheered. They called out and charged. Daenerys couldn’t blame them. They were the first army in a century to be supported by a dragon.

The back lines of the Lannisters burned, and the army broke. They tried running, but it didn’t work. Daenerys flew overhead. Every time a Lannister force seemed to be getting the advantage or an opening to escape, Drogon was shortly there, burning any sort of advancement.

It stayed like that for more than 20 minutes until Daenerys saw an interesting figure moving through the battlefield. He was riding on his horse and was clearly in some form of haste. He was clad in shining golden armor. 

She instructed Drogon and they quickly dove towards him, landing in front of his horse. Drogon roared as Daenerys looked at the man. His horse stopped and the man looked up at her.

Daenerys recognized him from the battle of Winterfell, except he looked quite different now.

He looked at the Dragon. Northern soldiers started heading up their way, most likely interested in why she landed.

“Jaime Lannister.” She said from atop Drogon.

His eyes fixated on her. His face was unreadable. In a moment, 20 northern spears were aimed at him.

Daenerys looked to the side to see Robb Stark and Jon. Both of them were followed by their direwolves. 

Jaime knew better than to try and fight his way out of this. He was surrounded and Drogon was looking right at him.

Jaime Lannister was taken away in chains. 

Robb, Daenerys and Jon strolled through the ruined field of battle, Drogon stopping to eat the carcass of a horse that he found. Burning it into a crisp and then golping it in three or four fights. 

I didn’t miss this… Daenerys thought. 

She could see from Jon’s face that he thought the same, and this was Robb’s first fight. She knew that he would quickly understand as well. Battles and their outcomes were two different things.

When they returned towards the camp, a smiling Theon Greyjoy in toe, they were met with a worried looking Catelyn Stark. 

Daenerys understood. It was Robb’s first battle, and a mother would always be worried for her son’s life. 

She was relieved to see Robb return from battle. Theon then turned to Catelyn and said “My lady, the realm will name this battle as the field of fire come again. I swear, the Lannisters lost more than twenty men for every one of ours, and we aren’t done with the counting.”

“Mother,” Robb said. “We have also captured the Kingslayer.”

Catelyn’s eyes widened at that information, but then she looked at Daenerys.

Before Catelyn could speak, Daenerys already knew what was going through her head.

She knows how important a hostage Jaime is. The terms we made had me able to do whatever I wanted to him, but if I do it now, her kids may die for it.

“Rest assured, Lady Stark, The Kingslayer will not be harmed until Bran, Sansa and Arya are out of Lannister hands.”

I am sure that Viserys would like to be there himself for that. He is the one that remembers our father.

Lady Catelyn seemed to visibly relax after she heard what Daenerys said.

“Thank you, your grace.” She said. 

It’s been a while since people actually called me that… 

“It’s no problem. I know that the Kingslayer is an important hostage. As long as he is kept safe, I have no problem leaving him until we get your son and daughters.”

I would like to meet Bran right now. 

The Army didn’t stop. If anything, they moved faster. 

The almost complete lack of casualties also helped them. Most of their opponents pretty understandably wetted their armor when they saw Drogon flying to fight them with the northerners. 

Most of the people who were killed were ones who made some sort of mistake. Even the northerners in the thickest of the fighting, like Robb and his group, were barely wounded if at all. 

With the northern banners lifted high and waving in the wind, the army put their paces to Riverrun.

The castle was under siege and Lord Edmure, Lady Catelyn’s brother and Robb’s uncle, was in Lannister hands. 

Helping to free the future lord of the Riverlands will help with gaining the favor of house Tully outside of Catelyn…

The army marched faster than any one she saw before, save her Khalasar, and that was only because the screamers all rode horses. 

The moral boost from fighting alongside her and Drogon was appearing in full force, and she was more than happy pushing the army towards Riverrun. The sooner she could send a safe raven to Sunspear the better. Viserys knows of her until now successful plan to get the North on their side, and Oberyn would be more than pleased that she is already engaging the Lannisters and will hurry to raise the banners. 

They were going to attack at night. Riverrun was already in sight, but the force that besieged it was twice their size, and six times the size of the army they just defeated. 

But now, they were attacking with the advantage of the night. And the one benefiting most from said advantage was Daenerys herself. 

She was riding a black Dragon. One that spewed black flames. Even when she and Drogon attacked their camps, the Lannisters were going to have a hard time realizing what exactly was going on. 

Their strategy wasn’t that complicated. 

The Blackfish, Brynden Tully, was going to start by attacking the northern camp. When the now waking soldiers would attempt to cross the rivers to help their allies, Robb would attack their camps while they are in disarray and Daenerys and Drogon will just burn them from the sky when needed. 

It was a winning plan. They were going to liberate Riverrun and officially declare war against the Iron Throne.

Before she mounted Drogon to get into position, someone called Daenerys.

“Dany,” She immediately knew it was Jon. Only he and sometimes Viserys called her that. 

She looked at him. “I didn’t get to tell you this when we talked yesterday, but I wanted to Thank you for sending me that letter.”

He stopped and took a breath. “I miss the Night’s Watch, but I do prefer being here with Robb. And with you.”

It made her feel nice. She knew that Jon also considered the watch as his family, or at least he did until the mutiny. It was good to hear that he actually preferred her company. 

“There was an assassination attempt on Robb a while back. Where we came from, it was directed at Bran, but here, the Lannisters tried to assassinate Robb. I don’t know why, but they did.”

“I assume that this is why you all went south to begin with?” she asked in return.

“Aye. Lady Stark captured Tyrion Lannister and everything started from there.” he affirmed. “I stopped that assassin. Or, at least, stopped him for enough time for Grey Wind and Ghost to kill him. I don’t know if Robb would be alive if I wasn’t there.”

Daenerys could feel herself smiling a little. “I told you, I came here early so that your family can live, and to try and minimise how much you all suffer. I am happy you were there to save your cousin.”

“Now, we just need to avoid all of the other bad things that happened to your family where we come from.”

They hugged before Daenerys mounted Drogon and flew into position to help the Stark forces in battle.

It wasn’t hard to see the battle beginning.

Just as planned, the Northern camp was attacked and caught unawares. With the speed they moved to Riverrun from the Whispering Woods, news of Jaime’s defeat didn’t manage to reach the force besieging Riverrun, so they expected him to return, and were instead attacked by the force he tried to stop.

Daenerys could see Robb’s strategy in motion. The Lannister forces knew that the Blackfish didn’t lead a big enough force to logically try to attack the siege by himself. With him leading the first attack, the orders given to the now awakening soldiers would be to go and cross the rivers to reinforce the northern camp.

In other words, The two other camps would be mostly undefended as the soldiers would try to cross the river to help in the north, and Robb and his soldiers could sweep in, free Lord Edmure and the rest of the hostages and win with minimum casualties. 

And as for Daenerys, the rafts ferrying soldiers on the rivers are easy targets for Drogon.

And just like that, she the soldiers boarded the rafts and started traversing the rivers towards the north, not knowing they were sailing into a trap.

Drogon dived, his black scales were the black sky and his wing flaps were just guests of the night wind.

The air got slightly hotter around Drogon, and the first round of rafts was gone. The black flames that burst from Drogon’s mouth camouflaged well with the darkness. 

Daenerys and drogon flew above the tumblestone and turned towards the Red Fork. She could see the eastern camp and they were in range to burn it, but she didn’t. As her help was needed in the part of the battle around the Tumblestone and the Western camp, she guided Drogon’s movements in the air and they twisted, circling Riverrun and flying towards where Robb and Jon’s force was about to strike. 

And the men mounted the rafts they still had and tried to sail north. 

The soldiers on the shore just saw their brothers in arms go out of sight and heard the screams of battle coming from up north.

They had no idea they were sailing into a trap.

Another row of rafts went up in black flames. She saw that the rafts that she wasn’t there to burn were bombarded with Ballista bolts and Catapults from Inside Riverrun.

And then Robb strock. She was in prime position to see the charging force of Northerners from the air. 

She could hear the battle cries of the northerners carrying on the wind. Some shouted house words, some, just the name of the castle or house they served.

When she fought with her armies, her Unsullied didn’t have a battle cry, and just like their name suggested, the Dothraki screamers just screamed into the air.

It makes me wonder if in the future an army is going to scream ‘House Targaryen!’ or ‘Fire and Blood!’ when charging into battle…

As for Daenerys herself, the only battle cry she needed was Drogon’s roar. How she saw it, it passed the message to her enemies pretty well.

From the air, she saw Robb and Jon fighting in the front of a force, their Direwolves fighting alongside them. She couldn’t see a lot, since the lighting wasn’t the best and she was flying rather fast.

Soon after, the gates of Riverrun opened and the Garrison inside launched a sortie and joined Robb’s attack against the Lannisters, bolstering his forces even more. 

The men in the eastern camp were ferrying out towards their allies on the rivers, and Daenerys made sure to burn every raft she could.

Even with the support she had from the defenders of Riverrun, who, seeing as Drogon was almost invisible in the night, didn’t really know what was happening to the rafts they didn’t blast, Daenerys didn’t manage to get every raft, so a couple of soldiers did manage to trickle into the two camps that Robb and the Blackfish were attacking.

But it was nothing compared to what would have happened if they weren’t there to help.

Once the rafts from the eastern camp almost stopped launching, Daenerys and Drogon went in for a direct assault. Daenerys didn’t really think about it that way, but since they defeated or captured all of Jaime’s attack force, Drogon’s presence was a secret. 

Ideally, this battle would also have no Lannister forces get away. If that was the case, Tywin Lannister would still be clueless about Drogon. 

The original plan she had was based on the assumption that hiding Drogon for more than a minute was impossible. It was to have Rhaegal be the surprise. 

But she would definitely like to have the element of surprise on her side for as long as possible.

They burned the tents from the air, a straight line of fire burned through the eastern camp directly below where they flew. 

This manoeuvre was based on an ant hill. When you kick the ant hill, you make the ants come out into the open. Escape the collapsing ant hill. 

And from her height in the air… the men fighting for the opposing side did seem like ants.

Some of them started running away. Not many of them, but there were at least some who stayed in the camp.

Two flybys later, and the camp was completely empty. From the air, she could see that the battle went just as Robb expected it. The fighting was thinning down as the last enemy soldiers were captured, and the men of the Stark, Tully and Riverrun forces all shouted out in a victory cry. 

Drogon roared in the sky as Daenerys prepared to touch down. 

The Roar diverted most of the attention towards her. The sun was starting to rise, and with its light, the sight that greeted the armies was the banks of the Tumblestone and the Red Fork filled with the pieces of burning wood left over from the rafts Drogon burned.

The men looked at Drogon in awe. They now understood why little to no reinforcements came for the Lannisters during the battle. 

At that moment, The North and the Riverlands both saw the Black Dread Reborn descending from the sky.

          The Lost Girl - Arya III

It wasn’t hard to blend into the streets of King’s Landing by herself.

Even if Bran was with her, they could easily blend in with the crowd. At least, if they hid their swords. 

Both of them were armed. Needle was sitting on Arya’s hip, ready to be drawn in a moment’s notice. 

Bran’s sword, the one that they took from Ser Meryn Trant, sat covered across his back. Arya’s sword was made specifically for her, but Bran had to make do with what he found, which was a sword made for an adult man. It was like a bastard sword for him, or maybe even a greatsword.

No, the real problem was the two direwolves they had with them. The people of King’s Landing weren’t used to seeing things like wolves of gigantic size inside of the city. So Bran and Arya had to stick to alleyways and less crowded streets. 

But it seemed like the city itself cared about other things. 

With the death of the king, the city was streaming with people. The talk got everywhere. Murmures of an attempted coup against the new king, Joffrey Baratheon, were almost everywhere.

But something quickly changed. 

The streets quickly got less and less crowded, and all the people seemed to be going in the same direction.

Bran and Arya didn’t really decide what they were doing. They only focused on evading anyone after running away from the Red Keep. 

In silent agreement, they decided to follow. They had to see what was happening. 

They were in the back lines of the courtyard in front of the great sept of Baelor. They found a place on the edge where the wolves could hide, and they turned their attention to what everyone was looking at.

Arya knew the people who were there. Some of them, at least.

She saw the high septon, and the kingsguard, the hound and queen Cersei and Joffrey and even Sansa all on there. But she didn’t focus on any of them. She only focused on her father. 

“As we sin, so do we suffer. This man had confessed his crimes in the sight of Gods and Men, here in this holy place.” Said the high Septon, kneeling before Joffrey.

“The gods are just, yet Blessed Baelor taught us they are also merciful. What shall be done with this traitor, Your Grace?”

The voices of the crowd roared but for Arya they were completely silent. She heard not one of them. Only Prince Joffrey… No, King Joffrey’s voice was in her ears.

“My mother bids me let Lord Eddard take the black, and Lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father.” He looked at Sansa and smiled.

At that moment, Arya felt an imminent sense of dread, stronger than she ever felt before.

She knew what was going to happen.

“He’s going to kill him…” the words escaped her mouth, voice lower than a whisper. Even if Joffrey spoke about mercy, Arya knew what he was going to say next.

“But they have the soft hearts of women. So long as I am your king, treason shall never go unpunished. Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!”

Arya wanted to jump to her father’s help. To draw Needle out and shove it through Joffrey’s throat, slash it out and do the same for Cersei.

But they were too far away. Even with the Direwolves, they were hopelessly outnumbered. The gold cloaks and the Kingsguard were just too many. 

As ser Ilyn Payne climbed the steps of the pulpit, Arya looked at Bran, who was already drawing his sword.

She knew what she had to do.

She closed in and hugged her brother. She could feel tears on her cheeks. 

“Arya, I-” Bran started, but Arya cut him off. “There are two many of them. We are too far. We can’t do anything. 

She could hear Sansa sobbing from the pulpit. It was that strong, but she turned her eyes right at Bran.

Arya didn’t have a lot of moments where she actually had to be the older sibling. She and Bran were almost the same age, and nothing like this had ever happened before. 

But she was Bran’s big sister. And she knew she needed to protect him.

So she turned his eyes away from their father. 

“Don’t look.” She said, but her voice sounded hollow. Empty.

She held Bran in place. She hugged him tightly.

Almost on their own, and without voice, her lips moved to say 

‘King Joffrey Baratheon’

Bran and her were both sobbing, they both wanted to go out there, to help their father, but they knew they could only get caught.

And they heard a noise. Arya felt like she recognized it from somewhere. A soft sigh-like noise, as if a million people who held their breath let it out at once.

A single thought passed through her mind.

“Robb,” She said through the tears. “We need to find Robb.”

Bran could only look at her. 

“He has an-an army,” She said, “In the Riverlands. We need to find him. He’ll get here and kill all of them.”

Her lips, voiceless, mouthed a name again.

‘Queen Cersei Lannister’

Something jolted them both. Nymeria and Summer both howled.

Arya saw people start looking in their direction.

She took Bran’s hand and ran towards the wolves. 

They needed to escape.

They needed to get to their family. 

‘Ser Ilyn Payne’

They found a more quiet alleyway and both of them collapsed.

          The Warg - Bran III

Bran had a single goal in mind. Revenge. 

The Lannisters took his father away. It was frightening, knowing that he wasn’t going to ever see him again.

But what was more frightening was how fast he got over himself. He didn’t get over his father’s death, but he accepted it quickly. Frighteningly so. 

He picked himself up, Summer rising with him. The city buzzed with activity and didn’t pay much attention to the alleyway they hid in.

“We need to escape to the Riverlands. We need to find Robb. If he thinks that the Lannisters still hold us as prisoners it will be bad for him.” 

Bran spoke his mind, but there was another thing. He felt this weird desire, like he needed to be close to Robb. Like he needed to somehow help his big brother.

Arya also stood up. Her grey eyes locked onto him. “We can’t take Sansa, can we?”

Bran solemnly shook his head. “Too many of them. They would even keep her more secure since we escaped. Our best chance is to get Robb.”

“So how do we escape? Robb is with his army in the Riverlands, so we go North.”

“Finding Uncle Edmure in Riverrun is probably our best move if we can’t find the northern forces before that.”

He took a deep breath. “As for our escape… Summer and Nymeria attract too much attention. We will need to go quickly and get far so that we aren’t caught.”

Bran’s knowledge of the map of Westeros was now put into the actual test. He would have to thank Maester Luwin for all of the lessons when he got back to Winterfell.

“When they find out we escaped, the Lannisters are going to send men after us. We need to avoid the main roads.” he started.

“You think you can navigate well enough without a road?” Arya asked. She sounded genuinely curious.

“I won’t need to, at least most of the time. We’re going to follow the unofficial road. Blackwater River. We just need to secure horses before we get out of here and then ride north alongside the river.”

“And how are we getting horses?” she asked.

A plan started taking shape in Bran’s mind. He liked the plan, it was a solid plan. 

“We need to get to the Lion Gate. It's connected to the Gold Road leading to the Westerlands. We get our horses there. I’ll explain on the way.”

They watched the three guards patrolling the gate area like wolves preparing an ambush for their prey. Quite literally in the case of Summer and Nymeria. 

They waited for guard patrols to change, and around half an hour later, they were ready to strike.

But first, Bran needed to do something. He felt an instinct. Something calling to him. 

Power within.

Slowly, carefully, he focused his will. He targeted one of the horses that the guards were riding.

It was weird. He was seeing like… a horse. He could feel what the horse felt. See what the horse saw. 

He wanted to try more, but this was the time to do, not to try. Bran, on instinct, reached out to all three horses. And he could do it. 

He remembered the stories that Old Nan told them. About the Wargs who changed their skins, and the Children of the Forest and the Greenseers. This was it. The old stories manifested.

They waited enough time for the previous group of guards to return to where they came from while making sure the horses they were stealing were not tired from being in guard duty for so long. But now…

He nodded back to Arya. It was time to strike.

Arya drew Needle and ran at one of the guards. Summer and Nymeria each targeted a different one of the remaining two.

Summer scared one of the horses, who dropped his rider and ran away as quickly as it could. Bran reached to the other two with his mind. He shared as many calm feelings as he could with the horses.

Nymeria tore a rider from his saddle and Arya, Needle in hand, lunged at the remaining guard before he could react. Needle was inserted into his eye with one quick strike. 

Bran ran towards the horse whose rider was attacked by Nymeria as Arya got the newly made corpse out of the saddle of the one she took.

They both mounted their horses as the guard that was dropped from his horse rose up, looked at them and said something that Bran couldn’t hear. They caused quite the commotion with this whole stunt, and the people around them were making noise.

The horse was a tad too big for Bran, but he didn’t care as much. He only focused on the horses. Focused on guiding them with his mind and his hands. 

They followed. Bran and Arya’s horses listened to Bran’s thoughts and started running out of the city gate to the Gold Road, Summer and Nymeria running alongside them.

Bran didn’t know how he was doing it, but he was commending the horse, he was connecting with the horse, he was the horse.

And what he did was escape King’s Landing. 

I will return. We will return. We’ll get Sansa back, and we’ll show the Lannisters that messing with us was the worst decision they ever made.

          The Queen in Riverrun - Daenerys VIII

(Quick Warning: This chapter contains a Sex scene. If this is not your jam, I will mark where it begins and where it ends.)

The looks were something she was used to by now.

Of course she was used to it. She was riding a dragon.

And yet still it was a mixed feeling when people looked at her. 

She and Drogon landed. Rhaegal was on his way, the cry that Drogon released was meant to attract his attention just as much as it was meant for the Stark and Tully forces.

The looks of awe from all around her were obvious. The men, particularly those of the Riverrun Garrison, looked back and forth from the charred rubble on the sides of the river and the eastern camp she and Drogon burned. 

And then it started. It was a man from the Stark armies, and more soon joined.

They cheered. 

She helped them win the battle. They already knew it from the battle of the Whispering Wood, but now, having such a clean victory when the enemy force outnumbered them two to one…

She saw a man with an auburn hair and blue eyes, just like Lady Catelyn’s, walk towards her through the crowd. He was flanked by Robb, and Jon and the direwolves were walking slightly behind them.

Daenerys didn’t need to think hard about who it might be.

“Lord Edmure Tully?” she asked.

The man’s eyes darted between her and Drogon. They finally settled on her.

“Yes,” Edmure didn’t seem the most confident, but she assumed that it was because of Drogon. “And you must be Daenerys Targaryen, right?” He asked cautiously.

“I have many questions, but first, I must thank you for helping to free Riverrun.”

She nodded. Looking closely at the castle gate, an old man with white hair and beard. The attention went to him for a moment. He was dressed in a tunic of red and blue stripes. Tully Colors. I… Didn’t think that Lord Hoster tully Was alive, if that is indeed him.

He looked at the Stark army, at his son, and then… 

His blue eyes opened wide. Daenerys knew the expression. She saw it hundreds of times.

He walked towards them. Slowly but determined. Daenerys realized that he probably wanted to speak to her, so she went towards him. Edmure also hurried towards the man.

“You…” he said. “Is that…?”

Here we go again. At least I don’t have that many titles this time… Yet.

“I am Daenerys Stormborn Targaryen, First of my Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” She gestured towards Drogon. “This is my Dragon, Drogon.”

“A dragon… I never thought…” he stared at Drogon. He wasn’t the only one.

“You said that you were the queen of the seven kingdoms?” Edmure asked, a bit surprised. His eyes went to Drogon again.

“Riverrun was under siege. There is much that you don’t know.” Daenerys said. 

A quick movement in the air caught the attention of people. Even those focused on Drogon looked to the sky. 

“Rhaegal, Ilagon!”

Quickly, The Green Dragon landed. The eyes now twitched between Drogon and Rhaegal. 

Daenerys turned to Lords Hoster and Edmure. “We have much to talk about.” 

The high table of Riverrun was packed. Lord Hoster Tully, Lord Edmure Tully, Lady Catelyn Stark, Ser Brynden Tully, Lord Tytos Blackwood, Robb Stark, Jon, Daenerys and the Northern Lords who fought with Robb, Including The Greatjon Umber and Rickard Karstark among others.

The hospitality of Riverrun was offered to her. Bread and Salt. She took it without hesitation.

They all talked about what happened. Hoster and Edmure wanted to hear everything they had to say.

Daenerys took with her the account of the Septon that she got from Oldtown and presented it to the present lords. Their eyes turned to Jon.

“So, Lord Eddard is… Gone, and you have declared for Jon and Daenerys as King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms?” Edmure asked Robb

Robb nodded Solemnly. 

“The Lannisters attacked us. They burned the Riverlands. They harmed the innocents. If Joffrey named Tywin Lannister as his hands, that would mean that it’s the crown that sanctioned these attacks.” Edmure said. Daenerys could see anger forming on his face.

“They declared my father a traitor and killed him. They hold my brother and sisters.” Robb addad.

Daenerys knew what was happening here. This was her chance. She could get house Tully to declare for her.

“Allow me to assure you,” Daenerys started. She looked at everyone on the table, but particularly at lord Hoster. “The last thing I am going to do is to be a queen like my father.”

It’s already the last thing I did…

“The Lannisters killed Lord Jon Arryn, Lady Lysa’s husband. They killed Lord Eddard Stark, Lady Catelyn’s husband and my betrothed’s uncle. They hold Sansa, Arya and Bran as hostages, and they attacked the Riverlands,” Daenerys said, standing up from her seat. “They need to be stopped.”

Edmure stood up as well. “On that, we agree. They harmed our family and our lands.” Edmure looked at his father. Lord Hoster nodded.

“House Tully will declare for you… Your Grace.” Hoster said.

“There’s just one thing I want to ask you first,” Edmure addad. “I ask that in this war, we won’t harm the smallfolk. They suffered enough.”

This request somewhat surprised Daenerys. She didn’t know almost anything about Edmure Tully, and she was pleasantly surprised.

Daenerys’s lips turned into a smile.

“I will never turn my Dragons or armies against the smallfolk. You have my word.” Her voice was more resolute than what she intended to sound like.

I will never do that again.

She saw Jon looking at her after she said that.

All of them took a moment to understand the situation.

Robb looked at Edmure. “Then we need to send ravens for the Riverlords. And I will send words to Roose Bolton. Now that we have Dragons on our side, we need to rethink our strategy.”

Daenerys took her seat again and nodded to him. 

“House Blackwood will also raise its banners for you.” Said Tytos Blackwood. Daenerys knew that he was the Lord of Raventree Hall. “The Lannisters are no friends of ours, and we are loyal to our liege lord.”

“Your support is greatly appreciated.” Daenerys replied. 

“If we want to defeat the Lannisters, we are going to need more allies,” Robb said, “The North has some Six-thousand men here, and another Eighteen-thousand with Lord Bolton. If the reports from this battle are true, and we managed to completely rout the Lannister force that was here, we are on equal grounds… When it comes to numbers.” He looked at Daenerys when saying that last part.

“But taking the Iron Throne is a different matter,” Robb continued. “We may have the men of the north and the riverlords Loyal to house Tully, but two kingdoms aren’t enough for that. I don’t know how many houses are loyal to the Lannisters, but they will most likely outnumber us. We only have two kingdoms out of seven.”

It was Daenerys’s time to speak. She looked at Hoster and Edmure Tully.

“With your fastest raven, I will make it three kingdoms.” She said, then took a small break. For the sake of making the revelation a tad more impactful.

“My brother, Viserys Targaryen, is betrothed to princess Arianne Martell of Dorne. During the Sack of King’s Landing, Tywin’s men killed Elia Martell and her children, my niece and nephew. The Dornish are more than eager to take revenge against the Lannisters for that.” She let the news fall on everyone in attendance. 

“With your backing, I can send word for my brother and Prince Oberyn, and they would raise the Dornish. That’s Three Kingdoms.” She said

“Having Dorne on our side helps, but they are on the other side of Westeros…” Robb said.

“And the Dornish are known for their lack of a navy…” Edmure said.

“Still,” Jon interjected. “The Dornish forces can move north and threaten King’s Landing from the south.”

Daenerys thought that it was now time to inquire about the situation in the Vale.

“If we send words, will lady Lysa Arryn call for the Knights of the Vale? The Lannisters did kill her husband…” Daenerys asked.

“I have been to the Eyrie. I took the Imp there,” said Catelyn. “Lysa is not in the best state right now. I don’t think we can fully count on the support of the Vale.” 

Daenerys thought about Aegon’s conquest. The Targaryens took the Vale with one dragon and no fighting.

“I heard that Lady Lysa has a son. Would he appreciate a flight atop a dragon?”

This gave Catelyn pause. “Little Robert was obsessed with flying… If you think that it would be safe for him to fly like that… It may just work.”

Daenerys was happy to hear this. If she could have the Vale on her side, this war would be much easier. The easier it will be for them, the less casualties they suffer, the better they can fight the Others.

“Now, we only need to send Ravens. To Dorne, To the Eyrie, to any house you think will rise for a Targaryen, and most importantly, to King’s Landing.”

That gathered looks from everyone. 

“We have Jaime Lannister held hostage,” She said. The kingslayer was brought to Riverrun and placed in the keep’s dungeon. “We can offer to trade him for Robb’s Siblings. I have a hard time believing it will be hard for us to capture him again, and in case we succeed, it will remove Sansa, Arya and Bran from danger.”

Daenerys may have wanted to keep the Kingslayer for Viserys, but she needed to talk with Bran even more.

The Tullys, Robb and Jon immediately agreed to the idea. 

After that, the war council disbanded. Daenerys went to write the letters to Dorne, King’s Landing and the Vale, while Hoster, Edmure and Robb each wrote letters to their own domains to notify them about the situation. 

When that was done, most of the soldiers now located in Riverrun went to rest. 

The sun was ever closer to touching the horizon and the night before was the battle they were tired from. For the first time in two weeks, Daenerys was able to bathe and sleep on a normal bed, although she didn’t really fancy sleeping.

She went outside of her room. The sun wasn’t fully down, but the castle was mostly asleep.

She actually arrived at the room she was looking for. 

She knocked on the door three times before it opened and went inside as quickly as it did.

[Beginning of Sex Scene]

Jon closed the door behind her and her lips found his. 

At first, Jon was surprised, but he quickly understood.

They went towards the bed in the room. It wasn’t the biggest bed but it was enough for now. Some of their clothes were off before they got to the bed. 

Daenerys just got to know Jon before that whole ‘army of the dead + dying’ thing happened, and then they were just separated for 2 years. She wanted to, at least in some sense, get back to where they were.

…And she did miss some of the pleasures of sex. She wasn’t going to pretend otherwise.

They finished undressing each other on the bed.

She got on top of him and he was inside of her.

She tried doing what she knew, just like she did with Drogo, and Daario, and the last time she fucked Jon, but it all felt… weird. 

It wasn’t bad weird, just weird weird, some sort of a foreign feeling.

But they continued, lying on each other, kissing while he was inside…

But then Daenerys felt something that she didn’t actually think about. She realized that since she was in the past, this was her first time.

She got to have sex for the first time again. That was why it all felt weird.

They were both hugging each other but out of breath when they started talking.

“We’re back in time…” Daenerys said. “It’s the first time for me…” she huffed. 

She built a stamina when she was still with Khal Drogo. Now she didn’t have that.

“Your maidenhood…” Jon said, also huffing.

“Gone.” Daenerys confirmed.

[End of Sex Scene]

And just as they were done, lying there with each other without words…

Someone knocked on the door from outside.

          “The Future Queen” - Sansa I

Sansa was standing in the throne room of the Red Keep. Just like she did before… Her father died.

It was still hard to realize that she will never actually see him again. 

On the Iron Throne, the king was sitting. He looked smug. The Queen Mother was standing by the throne as Joffrey held court. 

It was midday when things started breaking apart.

And it all started as a man Sansa later learned to be a messenger hastily entered the throne room, interrupting some lord from somewhere talking about something.

Sansa wasn’t in any mood to listen to anything that the court had to say that day. Little did she know, it would change in a matter of minutes. 

He looked at the throne and quickly went to one knee before the king.

Joffrey looked quite angry at the man. His face changed expression. Smugness turned to irritation. All eyes in the room went to the man.

“I have news for you, Your Grace. From the Riverlands.” He said. His breath caught in his throat. He was clearly in haste to reach the throne room.

Hearing this, the smug expression returned to Joffrey’s face. He dismissed the lord he was talking to earlier with a wave of his hand.

“Let us hear it then.” Said the Queen. 

“Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard and his host engaged Robb Stark in battle.”

Sansa’s heart sank. No… She thought her legs were giving up on her. Ser Jaime was a veteran fighter, and Robb… Robb wasn’t. 

Joffrey then spared a look at Sansa.

He was smiling. A smile filled with malice. 

But something was wrong. The messenger. Sansa felt something wrong with the man.

“Ser Jaime’s host was besieging Riverrun when Robb Stark and his forces attacked them. It… It was a complete rout.”

King Joffrey laughed. He looked at Sansa. It was a smug look. Just like the one he had when forcing her to...

“I-” The man said, “I fear that you misunderstood what I said, Your Grace.” The man gulped.

“It was Ser Jaime’s force that was routed. Not Robb Stark’s.”

Sansa now understood. Although he didn’t show it, the man was silently praying. Praying to avoid the king’s wrath.

Any laughter stopped. The quickest to react was Cersei, asking “And what of Ser Jaime?”

“If there were any survivors, they were either taken prisoner or scattered. None of our men encountered anyone as of yet.”

She heard the whispers going on between the onlookers. Ser Jaime and his forces being defeated was no small deal.

Sansa felt a spark of happiness for the first time since she saw her father’s head on the pike. 

Robb is fine… Robb is winning…

“There is one more odd thing about this loss, Your Grace.” The whispers stopped. “The scouts that Lord Tywin sent to survey the scene of the battle reported something that we can’t explain.”

“Riverrun flies not only the Trout of Tully and the Direwolf of Stark… But the Three-headed Dragon of house Targaryen.”

Silence. 

The court was fully silent. And yet it was louder than any words.

Sansa could hear her thoughts. A Targaryen? Robb allied with a Targaryen? Sansa thought in confusion.

The man shuddered, rose to his feet and produced something. A letter. 

“This letter just arrived. It’s sealed with a dragon seal, so it’s likely from Riverrun.”

Cersei took the letter from the man’s hand, broke the seal and started reading.

To the Boy King, Joffrey Baratheon, Last of his name, The Usurper upon my family’s Throne.

I write to you to assure you that your days are numbered. 

I have the Kingslayer, Ser Jaime Lannister.

If you want to see your uncle again, I offer a trade. Sansa, Arya and Brandon Stark in exchange for your uncle.

If you want a chance at keeping some members of your family alive, as well as prevent Lannister blood from flowing in rivers across the realm, you may also hand over the Iron Throne to me. I guarantee the safety of your brother and sister in that case.

Refuse to these terms, and I will fly to King’s Landing myself and show you what it means to wake the Dragon.

 - Daenerys Stormborn Targaryen, First of her name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Man, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.

Daenerys Targaryen? Sansa’s eyes then opened in recognition. She knew who Daenerys Targaryen was.

She’s the princess from the songs, King Daeron the Good’s younger sister. They say that Daemon Blackfyre rebelled since he couldn’t marry her…

She knew it since she knew the songs about the Blackfyre rebellions. A princess in love being forced away from the man she wanted to marry another was something Sansa was interested in. Back when she wanted to marry a prince. When she thought that chivalrous golden-haired knights were not a thing of legend.

Then Sansa realized that the one who sent that letter was probably not a princess from a hundred years in the past.

She knew that Mad King Aerys had a son and a daughter, she knew the son to be Viserys Targaryen, but she didn’t know what their daughter was called. 

Now she had an answer to that question she never asked.

“Robb Stark and Hoster Tully are also signed on this letter,” She heard Cersei’s voice spit with nothing but contempt. 

“Traitors, all of them!” Joffrey raised his voice. “I will have their heads, and that Targaryen girl, too!”

Robb and my lord Grandfather allied with a Targaryen? Why? 

Cersei looked thoughtful. She probably looks for a way to get Ser Jaime back…  

As if on cue, three armored men with gold cloaks entered the great hall and knelt before the throne. 

“Your Grace, we have news concerning Brandon and Arya Stark.”

That statement turned eyes again.

“We saw them near the Lion Gate. It was a patrol. They…” The man stopped, gulping. “They managed to escape and exit the city.”

“What?” Cersei asked, her voice laced with anger.

“One of the guards who were on patrol survived and gave us his version of the events before he had to be taken to a maester to be checked.” The man pointed to another gold cloak, probably his subordinate.

“According to him, the Stark kids and their huge wolves charged at the guards. They tried to catch them, but that wolf jumped on one of them and the girl took out a sword and killed another. The surviving guard’s horse just threw him off and bolted away.” He said. Sansa could hear both embarrassment and fear in the man’s voice. 

“Bran Stark was last seen ahorse by that guard, riding out of the city gates. His sister too.” He finished.

“Ahorse? A horse ? You mean to tell me that these northern runts turned into horses and fled?” Joffrey said with anger.

At that, Sansa snuck in a rare but true smile. Her brother was beating the Lannisters in the Riverlands. Bran and Arya were free.

She only hoped that they would reach her soon.

Chapter Text

The Wanderer in the Dark - Arya IV

Arya was tired, and with how things looked, the horses were too.

“We should be far enough now…”

They rode along the Gold Road for a while after managing to get away from the guards at the Lion Gate, but Arya, Bran and their horses all needed a break. They had a couple of very rough days, so they needed their strength.

That raised a new problem. Food.

Or, it would have raised it. The Crownlands were bountiful in the late summer, and it was not that hard to find things to eat when you can somehow see through the eyes of a wolf. 

Arya couldn’t explain that one, but Bran confirmed it. He could see and feel what Summer felt just as much as she could with Nymeria.

It was a shame that neither of them didn’t know how to cook, because having two apex predators by their side meant that game was probably the easiest thing they could get. 

They stopped near a small grove on the side of the Gold Road. Both her and Bran were tired. They could tie the horses to a tree and rest.

After doing that, they both found a tree to lean against. Having the wolves with them was probably the best thing they could hope for in this situation, since they will wake up fast if they sense danger approaching.

Both of them leaned against the tree and against each other and started to drift off.

Arya didn’t have a torch. She didn’t have light. And it was dark. Eerily so. 

But Arya knew where she was going. She knew where she stepped and where she was headed.

Because it was not Arya’s first time in that place. And she knew it was far from the last.

She could see without the light. Barely anything was visible, but to her the place looked more illuminated than it ever did.

It was the light of purpose. 

And the stairway she was going down stretched, to infinity almost. And yet, finally, she saw where she was headed. The first level.

She started walking in the direction she was all too familiar with. The path ahead was still long. 

And then she noticed someone else walking in the same direction, ahead of her. 

He was also without light, but Arya could see her brother Bran.

Without words, she followed him in the direction that they were going.

It was more and more obvious where they were headed as the light became more visible. Not just the new light Arya felt from the years old place, but an actual firelight. 

She passed the people she knew. She and Bran and Robb knew the names, and even Jon and Sansa knew some. 

Then they came. There were Rickard and Brandon and Lyanna Stark, all forever remembered in these stone statues in the crypts of Winterfell. Just like all the other Starks, the lords and the kings. 

Brandon and Rickard had swords in their laps, and Lyanna had a harp at her feet, but these were not the reason Arya was in the Crypt.

There was a woman holding a torch to an empty spot near their aunt and uncle. She knew who’s spot it was.

A kid looked onto the spot, with a huge direwolf of pure black fur and green eyes by his side. 

It was Rickon Stark. Arya didn’t know the woman by his side, but she didn’t look like she was from Winterfell.

Bran was standing behind them. Until now, because of the darkness, she saw everything in black and darker black, with the exception of Bran, who’s colors were obvious as if he was standing in the sunlight. 

Rickon and the woman were in color, most likely due to the torch that the woman was holding, but their colors didn’t look the same as Bran’s.

She could guess why.

Like her, Bran was dreaming. Dreaming of Winterfell’s crypts. Of where their father would be buried forever.

And Rickon wasn’t. He was actually there. Actually looking at the empty spot. 

She looked as well. 

She saw her father there. Sitting on a throne of stone like the kings of Winter and lords of Winterfell before him, a sword on his lap and wolves on the side. Her father was also sharing the colors of a dream, like Bran did. 

And she is there and looks around. She tried looking for Sansa or Robb or Jon, but they were not there. Maybe they aren’t sleeping. 

The crypts were completely silent. Even as she saw the woman holding the torch saying something to Rickon, she couldn’t hear it. Only the silence of the crypts.

But then there was noise. And a feeling too. 

It was the howling of wind and the cold. It came from where Arya came from, the stairs, but she knew it wasn’t from up in Winterfell. It was down from the lower levels of the crypts, where The Kings of Winter past laid to rest. 

The cold was familiar, as if she once felt it herself. It tightened around her neck and the wind kept howling, but this time it was no wind. It was the sound-

Arya’s eyes shot open at the feeling. Danger. She got that feeling and she saw Nymeria and Summer both growling. A second later Bran also shot up. They reached for their swords, Arya for Needle and Bran for his longsword, and they heard neighs coming from where the horses were left.

Someone found them.

Jon V

Both he and Daenerys were in bed when the knock on the door sounded.

Immediately, both shot to their feet and went for their clothes. 

“Who’s there?” Jon said towards the door as both he and Daenerys dressed as fast as they could.

“It’s me,” Robb’s voice came from behind the door. “Can I enter?”

“In a moment.” Jon replied. When both were dressed enough, Jon went to the door and opened it.

Robb entered the room. “Hey, I wante-” his eyes landed on Daenerys. She was dressed, but clearly it was done in a rush. 

“If you will excuse me, I will be going now.” Daenerys said. Jon felt the awkwardness of it all, and Daenerys and Robb too, by the looks of it.

When they were alone, Robb turned to him. The room was silent for a moment. “I came here to ask you if you were really fine with this entire marriage pact…” Robb started. “With all the battles and father… We didn’t have much time to talk…”

“Aye…” Jon agreed.

“But… Uh…” Robb stuttered. “Did you do it? The two of you?” his voice was a bit lower.

Jon didn’t see any reason to hide it from Robb. What they did, at least, not the truth of their relationship. If they wanted to tell anyone about that, it would have to be done with the utmost care.

Jon nodded. Jon had sex before he was with Daenerys, but from what he remembered, Robb didn’t.

“Well, I’m happy to see your marriage having a decent start. I’m betrothed and the only thing I know about my bride is that she came from the late Walder Frey…”

Jon’s eyes shot up for a fraction of a moment and then his face shifted into a thinking expression.

“About that…” Jon said. There is no world where I am King and Robb marries a Frey. I’ll cut off the deal. “I will talk with Daenerys about this entire thing. We can cancel your engaged marriage.”

Robb looked at him in surprise. “Really?”

“I’ll do my best.”

One quick exchange of words with Daenerys later, and a miniature war council of sorts gathered in Hoster Tully’s solar.

It was not actually Jon or Daenerys’s doing. It was Lord Edmure who said that news came from the south.

It was the elderly lord Hoster, along with Edmure, Catelyn, Robb and lords Umber, Glover, Karstark and Blackwood. Daenerys then opened the meeting.

“Lord Hoster,” She said, looking at both Hoster and his son. Jon knew what she was going to say. “Before we actually start this meeting, I wish to discuss one of your bannermen. The late lord Walder Frey.”

Out of the both of them, she was the one most suited to talking with noblemen and the like, both because of her experience in Essos and the respect she commanded by riding Drogon. 

Jon was content with Daenerys actually being in charge of speaking with the high lords. Jon was more adept at speaking to the people doing the fighting. 

The snorts were audible. Even as Daenerys spoke the name, Jon could see how the lords felt about The late lord.

“Lord Hoster, You were present for the battle of the Trident. On that day, Lord Frey insulted both of our families. You were his liege lord, and my brother was his prince, and he just waited, knowing that his troops could decide the outcome. And now, instead of raising his swords to come and help relieve the siege over Riverrun, he haggled with Lord Robb and extorted terms out of him and Lady Catelyn.”

Just as Jon hoped, no voice rose other than Daenerys’s. They were curious where she was going with that.

“I think that, as queen, I will choose to declare the pact that House Frey extorted from House Stark null, since Lord Robb and Lady Catelyn were under duress when making them. Is anyone here in objection to that?”

The lords glanced at each other. Edmure was the one to speak. “I think this is a fair decision, but I doubt Lord Walder would think the same way. I got a Raven back from the Twins in reply to what I sent them Yesterday, and the message was hesitant. They are the most hesitant noble house across the Trident, it seems.”

“No surprises there.” Said the Greatjon, and the rest of the table seemed to agree.

“I plan to reward loyalty handsomely, but what Lord Walder showed both then and now almost crosses the lines for treason,” Daenerys said. “I will tell him that he could show loyalty and actually earn his rewards instead of trying to extort them, or rebel and negotiate whatever terms he wishes with Drogon.” 

Jon could see the shock passing through the lords in attendance. 

“I don’t plan to execute him or burn him alive. I am not my father. This is just a threat. One that would be a lot more effective than sending a reprimanding raven or the likes.”

Some people got more relaxed.

“I wish ruling a realm with loyalty only was possible, but what will stop ambitious lords from taking what they want is more likely to be fear than honor. I wish to avoid burning people alive like that.”

At that, almost anyone nodded to show their agreement.

“That would mean that me and Arya are free from any marriage pact, correct?” Robb asked.

Daenerys nodded.

After around half a minute of silence, Edmure cleared his throat audibly. “Before the topic of Lord Frey came up, I called you here because we got important news from the south,” Edmure said. 

“Stannis Baratheon declared himself King of the Seven Kingdoms in opposition to Joffrey. He doesn’t seem to know about you two,” he looked at him and Daenerys, “...Yet.”

Jon remembered Stannis. The man who came to help them at Castle Black. This time, he hoped that when it comes to that, Jon would be able to go there himself with the power of the crown at his back and end the battle without bloodshed.

“I expected him to do this. The discovery of Joffrey’s true parentage was what caused the Lannisters to kill Lord Jon Arryn and Lord Eddard Stark.”

“And based on what I heard about Robert’s brothers, I assume Renly declared himself king as well?”

All eyes went to Daenerys as Edmure stuttered. “He… indeed did that…” Edmure said. 

Jon knew that Daenerys was just using what she knew from the time they came from, but the others didn’t know that. They thought Daenerys made that prediction herself.

“Stannis is in Dragonstone.” Edmure said, looking at Daenerys. “Renly called the Stormlands’ banners to him, and he married Margaery Tyrell. He has the backing of the Reach.”

That caused nervous glances to shift along the hall. “The Reach has the biggest army out of any kingdom in Westeros, and with the Stormlands as well…” Said lady Catelyn. She looked worried. Jon understood that. Facing a large army was never a good prospect, much less if your forces were dwarfed by it. Jon remembered the battle for the Wall.

Wasn’t Renly the first king who died? I think Stannis killed him .

“I don’t think Renly is long for this world,” Daenerys stated. “Stannis is a Stormlander. He would want to take the Stormlands army from Renly, and he will view Renly as a usurper, just as much as Joffrey.”

The eyes shifted to Daenerys again. Normally, saying something like that would be dismissed due to the accusation of Kinslaying, one of the vilest crimes a man can commit. But since Daenerys made the ‘prediction’ about Renly’s position earlier…

“Going to war with Renly wouldn’t be what Stannis thinks about. He barely has an army, and Renly’s forces most likely outnumber our forces here more than ten to one.” Lord Blackwood said. 

But Jon knew. He knew that…

“He most likely wouldn’t need to do that. Assassination might be preferable to actual warfare in that situation, and rumor is that Stannis is influenced by a red witch, and dabbling in dark magic of sorts,” Daenerys said. “Normally, believing in magic is not a way to do battle, but seeing as I have dragons, I think everyone here knows that magic is quite real and usable in warfare.”

“So you want us to assume that Renly, the most powerful claimant to the throne, with the possible exception of you,” He looked at Jon and Daenerys “Is going to be the first to die?”

“Assassination…” Robb pondered aloud. “It is probably the best option for someone in Stannis’s situation.”

You don’t even know… Jon thought, drifting back to the power held by the red witch.

“You suggest we be prepared to try and negotiate terms with the Reach in case the possibility of Renly’s death turns out to be real?” Jon asked, turning his face to Daenerys.

“Yes. Having the Reach turning to the Lannisters would not be good for us. If that possibility of Renly dying comes to pass, we need to be ready with an envoy to send to Highgarden with terms for house Tyrell.”

The lords nodded in agreement. After a while, Robb raised his voice. “There is one more thing. I have been talking with Theon Grayjoy. He thinks that he could convince his father, Balon, to help us.”

That is a really bad idea. Jon thought, remembering what happened the last time. 

“Robb, that is not a good idea,” said Lady Stark. “Balon Greyjoy is a bitter and vengeful man. He would not help us. In all honesty, I think that Theon being here is the sole reason he did not attack the North yet.”

“That is an interesting idea, Robb.” Daenerys said. Jon looked at her with wide eyes. She wasn’t here last time. If I remember correctly, the Ironborn came to her for help.

“But I do think that even as we speak, Balon Greyjoy is preparing to attack the North. He hasn’t seen Theon in ten years, so I doubt he would care about him being executed,” Her eyes focused on Robb. “And if he does invade the North, do you think you can actually put Theon to the sword? He has done nothing wrong, and actually fought at our side. Would we be any better than Tywin Lannister, executing someone who has done nothing just because of their family name?”

The table went silent and Robb answered a moment later, voice dry. “No. I don’t think I’ll manage to kill Theon.”

Jon understood. Even if he knew what Theon did, at least in his time, Jon didn’t think that this Theon should be killed for it. He hasn’t done anything. He’s innocent now.

“But we do need to deal with the Ironborn. I want Ravens sent to the northern lords, both to notify them about our position and about raising additional men to reinforce the western coast in preparation for a potential Ironborn attack.” 

Robb, Lady Stark, Lady Mormont and lord Glover nodded. Jon knew that the Mormonts and the Glovers were the only ones who held coastal territories on the west, at least from the present lords.

“I also want a letter sent to lord Wyman Manderly of White Harbor. I think that it’s high time that the north regained a form of naval strength.”

Jon remembered the stories. Old Nan used to tell them of Brandon the Burner. The north did not have ships for a long time.

“That’s a good idea,” Jon finally said, remembering something Daenerys told him. “If this war drags for long, we can use these ships to transport the Dornish here.”

“That is a good idea,” Edmure agreed, and voices from across the table also grew in support. “But we have one more thing to discuss.” 

All eyes turned to him.

“We sent ravens to all the houses in the Riverlands, and each of the replies we got has been the same: The Riverlords are raising their banners for us. But…” He stopped for a moment.

“The Lannisters burned the Riverlands. They raid villages, terrorize the smallfolk and harass the Riverlords. They are divided, and some of their seats were even taken. What do we do about this?”

Jon looked at Robb. His cousin’s eyes also turned to him. Originally, Robb attacked the Riverlands to draw Tywin out from Harrenhall since he didn’t want to attack Tywin inside the fortress. Now that they had dragons.

“We wait for Roose Bolton to return and split our forces again,” Jon said, rising to his feet to draw attention.  “The Lannisters have Twenty thousand men left in the Riverlands, and we have the element of Surprise with the Dragons. We take some of the Riverman and some of Roose’s forces and March against Tywin while the rest of the northern forces will go to help liberate the Riverlands.”

Robb immediately rose to his feet as well. “Jon is right. We need to press the advantage. Tywin’s army may outnumber us, but the forces besieging Riverrun also outnumbered us, but with the Dragons, and the help of the Riverlords… We can cut the Lion’s head off.”

The Lords raised their voices in agreement. If this was Jon’s first time seeing the Dragons in action, he would probably have the same reaction. They simply felt invincible with Daenerys and Drogon flying with them into battle. 

After that, each person went to their own task. Lord Glover and Lady Mormont went to send the ravens to their domains in the north, While the other lords headed to the Godswood. Daenerys herself seemingly went outside, and Jon went after her.

He saw her looking around the Castle. It was understandable. Aside from Winterfell and Dragonstone, she hasn’t been to any castle in Westeros. Jon was the same, with the small addition of Castle Black.

But Jon first needed to speak with her about something.

“Dany,” He caught up with her. She regarded him with a curious look. “I need to ask you something.”

They both stood in front of the Dragons. “Walk closer to Rhaegal,” She instructed.

Jon’s question was simple. He wanted to know if he could fly. He flew on Rhaegal before, but the dragon was obviously bigger then. 

Rhaegal was smaller than Drogon was, and Daenerys was smaller than himself. It made sense that Drogon could fly her. 

He also saw that Daenerys rode Drogon with a saddle, and that Rhaegal lacked one, but he flew bareback last time and it wasn’t much of a problem, except…

He approached Rhaegal like Daenerys instructed. The Dragon regarded him with an open eye, but otherwise was still lying on the floor. 

From the corner of his eye, he saw Robb and Theon walking around, probably after they finished with their business, and they stopped in their tracks and looked at him.

Daenerys went to look at him from different angles. He didn’t know what she did exactly, but he assumed she was measuring something.

“You could ride him, but I don’t think it will be as comfortable as it was the last time. I would give it a week or two before you try, and a bit more before you actually ride into battle like that. It’s a different thing entirely.”

Jon assumed it would be the case. He didn’t necessarily expect to ride Rhaegal, especially since Daenerys didn’t already tell him to do it, but it would’ve been a nice surprise if he could.

But he guessed it would have to wait for a different day. As he walked towards where Ghost was, he saw Robb and Theon looking at him. They were seemingly disappointed.

The Fighter - Bran IV

Bran felt it. Summer’s senses projected the feeling of danger to him through their bond. 

He and Arya rose together and took up arms. Their direwolves growled as 9 men wearing black armor and golden cloaks approached them. They stood in a circle around them and raised their spears.

“Arya and Bran Stark. Come with us, on orders of King Joffrey Baratheon.”

Bran didn’t know what to say in this situation. They were obviously not going back to King’s Landing. These men had to be dealt with.

“Go away and you won’t get hurt.” Arya said, Needle in hand. Nymeria and Summer growled in agreement.

“Kill the wolves and take the children,” one said to the rest. He must be their leader. Bran surmised. The man then turned to Arya. “Come with us and you won’t get hurt.” He said.

At that, Arya sprang to action. She ran at the man closest to her with Needle. The man tried to hurt her with the butt of his spear, but Arya was nimble and dexterous, dodging the attack with grace and piercing the Man’s knee with one quick stab. The man fell, his legs not able to support him, and before he hit the ground Needle pierced his neck.

The Direwolves, Bran saw, each jumped on a member of the city guard themselves, but Bran shifted his attention to the man in front of him. 

The longsword he held was too long to be used properly by him, but he had a way to use it. The same way a grown man would fight with a sword like Ice. He would fight with it like a greatsword.

A greatsword was a weapon meant to cleave people, moving in great arcs and wide swings. Bran thought that that style of fighting was better for him with the weapon he had now, and the guard was seemingly caught off-guard, barely managing to dodge the wide arc that Bran swung his sword in. 

He didn’t lose the momentum. He remembered learning about different sorts of fighting styles in the red keep, both with Ser Barristan and from the Master-at-arms. The proper way to fight with a greatsword was to continuously move it in circles. The Enemy had to either retreat or risk being cleaved.

Sadly for Bran, the sword was too heavy for him, and he didn’t train to use a greatsword in battle. He also lacked one of the most important advantages of the greatsword, being it’s reach. Not only did he fight with a normal length longsword, but he also fought a man holding a spear, and his hands weren’t the longest.

In essence, Bran tried to fight with a weapon relying on reach where he barely had any.

The man dodged another swing and tried hitting Bran with the butt of his spear. 

Just like with Arya… We are too valuable to be killed. Something big is probably happening with Robb…

Bran Stopped his swing barely in time to block the attack.

He tried to counter with a stab, but it was for naught. The man deflected the attack, which was sluggish. Bran retreated, but he was too slow to stop the butt of another guard’s spear from hitting him in the belly.

Bran was knocked to the ground and the sword knocked from his hands, but he was far from done. 

In a moment, he was on all four. He ran and leaped at one of the men standing next to him. The man was tackled to the ground and Bran, as Summer, used his claws and bite to tear out the guard’s neck.

Growling, he looked at the other man. He was Arya’s blade finding a chink in another guard’s armor and he dropped to the ground.

But then, from the corner of his eye, Bran saw the hooded man. He instinctively stopped Warging Summer and returned to himself, moving backwards as the hooded man darted towards the guard who stood above him. 

The man was holding only a stick, but he moved with such a speed that Bran only saw the best of the knights at the Hand’s Tourney moving at.

He effortlessly knocked the guard to the ground with his stick and then reached for Bran’s fallen Sword. Bran saw the face under the hood and his eyes filled with shock.

“Ser Barristan?” 

Bran recognized the man he squired for. He may have had a small beard now, and was no longer dressed in his plate armor and white cloak. But it was undeniably him. He turned to the still living four guards, including the one he knocked to the floor.

When they heard his name, the gold cloaks stopped. They saw the skill he displayed with the stick. Now, with a sword in his hands…

The gold cloaks ran away.

“Thank you, ser.” Bran said, standing up.

Arya also approached them. “Thank you for the help,” She said. “But if you might forgive me… What are you doing here? Aren’t you a member of the Kingsguard?”

A bitter look crossed the old knight’s face. “I was… dismissed.” He said.

Bran jumped up at that. “But members of the Kingsguard serve for life!” he said. 

“They dismissed me. They offered me a castle to die in and servants to bury me in it.” He said. “I didn’t take them up on that offer. I decided to search for a king worth serving. Viserys Targaryen.”

Arya asked before he could. “If so, why are you on the Gold Road?” 

“At your father’s request, I took you as a squire,” He looked to Bran. “Your safety became my responsibility. I will safely escort you to your family in Riverrun.”

“Thank you, Ser.” Bran replied.

Ser Barristan smiled. “It’s my duty as a knight,” He said. He then turned to Arya. “Now, what are the both of you doing on the Gold Road?”

“We plan to follow the Gods Eye River to the Gods eye lake and then head north to Riverrun. We thought that taking the Kingsroad would be too obvious.” Bran said.

“That isn’t a bad plan.” Ser Barristan said.

“I have bad news,” Arya said. “They untied the horses.”

Chapter Text

          The General - Robb IV

“Daenerys. Jon. A word?” Robb approached them. 

All of them were walking around Riverrun. Robb wanted to go to the Godswood and pray for his siblings’ safety, but he first needed to make this conversation. They both looked at him. “Yes?” Daenerys asked.

“First, I wanted to thank you for canceling my arranged marriage to House Frey,” he said. “I don’t have many problems with political marriage, but I at least want to be the one to decide if I marry…”

It was true. He saw how much his mother and father loved each other, and they were a political match. He just wanted the freedom of choice.

“Think nothing of it,” Jon said “Like we said, Lord Walder deserves nothing for halting us.”

Daenerys nodded her head, her violet eyes looking at him sharply. “The way you talked about Political marriages earlier… I don’t suppose that you only come here to thank us.”

“No,” Robb confirmed. He was busy talking with Theon earlier and with his mother as well. “I have two things I wanted to ask. First, I talked with Theon, and he finds it hard to believe his father will attack the north.”

Jon and Daenerys exchanged glances. “Balon Greyjoy is a bitter old man. He doesn’t care for logic, that he showed in the rebellion against Robert. He only cares for revenge.” Daenerys said. 

Robb knew she was going to say that. He and Theon talked about that.

“Well, I came here to ask if, in the case of the north not being attacked by the Ironborn, to let Theon proceed with his plan to go to Pyke.” 

“I think that if the Ironborn won’t attack the north, it might be fine to try and make allies out of them.” Daenerys said. “But we will need to act cautiously around them. The Greyjoys hold no love for the Starks. Aside from Theon.” She said

Robb nodded. Theon will certainly be happy about this. He found it hard to believe his father would attack the north, but now he could just wait still.

Robb personally hoped that Balon Greyjoy would not attack the north. Having the Iron Islands by their side would be great.

“Now, for the second thing…” Robb said. “I know that I am probably going to get political marriage offers from lords across the seven kingdoms.”

Jon quickly cut him off. “Don’t worry, I’m not marrying you off to anyone without letting you decide on it.” Jon said. He noted a reassuring tone in Jon’s voice. Or at least, what sounded like one.

Robb was about to ask them that. Since he was now lord of Winterfell, a lot of houses that would probably throw their weight behind Jon and Daenerys might try to ask for a marriage with him to sweeten the deal. Jon and Daenerys had the power to say no and most of the time nothing would change, Robb failed to see any smaller house saying no to Daenerys riding her dragon. 

But he actually had another question in mind that he wanted to ask.

“You said that the Tyrells threw their weight in with Renly, but that you think Renly would die soon?”

Robb had asked his mother about the whole situation. She was the most knowledgeable person around when it came to the nobility of Westeros, at least from Robb’s point of view.

She told him about house Tyrell.

In particular, about Margaery Tyrell. She was apparently married to Renly. That was what it took to turn the Tyrells to his side. 

“If you need help in convincing the Tyrells tio join us, you can offer my hand in marriage to Margaery Tyrell.”

Robb has heard that Margaery is praised for her beauty, and he did want a beautiful wife. He thought that if he could secure a political alliance as well it would be all the better. 

Jon and Daenerys looked surprised. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. We are of the same age. And…”

The more time that passed, the more Robb liked the idea of Jon actually taking the throne. It may have been because Robb actually knew Jon.

They grew up together. They fought together on the battlefield now. They both learned what being a man was from Robb’s father.

When his father told him stories about Robert Baratheon and Jon Arryn, Robb felt like there was a bond of family in there. His father and King Robert were warded in the Eyrie. They fought against the Targaryens together. They knew each other.

Robb was becoming more and more certain that there was nobody he’d like to sit on the Iron Throne more than Jon. 

So he wanted to help Jon. His father and mother married to bind house Tully to Robert’s cause, and if that was an example to what marriage could be, then Robb would gladly marry house Tyrell.

“I think I would be the best match for her.” Robb said.

“Have you talked to Lady Stark yet?” Jon asked him. “I think she should know what you want to do…”

“I will tell her. I wanted to talk with you first, because I had that talk with Theon and you were closest.” Robb nodded.

“If Lady Stark allows it, I will gladly take you up on that offer, Robb.” Daenerys said. 

Robb almost turned to go and find his mother, but at the last moment…

“One last thing,” He told them just as they were also about to go somewhere else. “I saw you next to the green Dragon earlier.” he looked at Daenerys. “His name was… Rhaegal, right?” He asked, to which Daenerys nodded.

“Are you going to ride that Dragon?” He asked Jon.

“Not yet. Daenerys said it’s not big enough.” Jon answered.

“It would be around two or three weeks until Rhaegal will be big enough to steadily hold Jon in the air. And even then, battles are slightly more complicated than Normal flying.”

Robb nodded. He saw Drogon flying with Daenerys in battle. 

The Godswood of Riverrun was different from the one in Winterfell. 

After praying for Arya, Sansa and Bran near the heart tree, Robb found his mother, who was slightly apprehensive about the political marriage he talked about, but she agreed to it, seeing as it was him who offered it. 

Robb’s part of the Northern Army, as well as the forces of houses Frey and Mallister of the Riverlands numbered 6 thousand men. 

Just as his uncle Edmure said, the Riverlords already started sending their support, although the numbers weren’t as large as he had hoped.

And he knew the reason: The Lannisters were burning the Riverlands. The Lords needed the men to protect their territories.

And so, Robb and Jon started preparing their army to march southeast of Riverrun. But they would have to wait a couple of days, since Lord Tytos and the Blackfish went north of Riverrun to reclaim Raventree Hall, Lord Tytos’s seat that fell in his absence.

Robb was a bit surprised since the majority of the forces that arrived in Riverrun by the time that the Tully and Blackwood forces returned were carrying the Bracken banner.

Robb knew his history well enough to know that the Brackens weren’t the most loyal house to the Targaryens, and most of the time picked the side opposing the Blackwoods. 

But he did not complain. If they wanted to match Tywin’s host of twenty thousand westermen, even with two Dragons, more men were always welcome.

Lord Jonos spent no time bending the knee to Jon and Daenerys, and they did promise him that they would pass through Bracken Territory to help him reclaim Stone Hedge on their way to Harrenhall.

More Riverlords still joined them in the form of independent raiding parties attacking Lannister forgers. 

During these days when Robb waited for the forces of the Riverlands to muster, he decided to channel his time into what he did best, which seemed to be strategy. With the permission from his grandfather, lord Hoster, Robb and Jon went into the Library of Riverrun to search for anything that could help them win in a fight against lord Tywin’s host of 20,000.

Jon himself was alternating between places. He went to talk with the soldiers, with the lords, with Daenerys, who Robb saw asking something be made from the Blacksmith, or hanging around with the dragons.

When Robb last saw them, an idea actually came to his mind of a strategy to beat the Lannisters. 

When Robb could no longer wait in Riverrun, his host, now bolstered by the forces of the Riverlords who’s territories were not under attack and numbered around eight-thousand men, set out towards Harrenhall. 

He did leave some Tully soldiers in Riverrun to protect it, and his lady mother also stayed behind with her father, and Daenerys guaranteed that if Riverrun were to fall under siege again, she would fly there to relieve it, just to put the defenders’ minds at ease.

He, Jon and Daenerys also left some orders there. First was that, in case of Renly Baratheon’s death, A raven is to be sent to Highgarden to try and have the Tyrells declare for house Targaryen.

Second was for Roose Bolton and his army. They were to go around the Riverlands and help to beat back any Lannister raiders or attackers and gather the armies of the Riverlords from their territories to go south, setting to meet Robb and the Targaryens on their way towards Harrenhall, so that they would have the numbers to match Tywin. But Robb didn’t expect that to happen. 

Now all that was left was just the march. 

Robb’s strategy was put into motion. First, The Riverlanders split up into separate raiding parties, but stayed close to Robb’s main host of northerners, to make it appear as if Robb’s forces were smaller than they appeared, but that the army of house Tully could reform out of these parties in a short time.

The second stage was the hunting. Many men, led by Theon Greyjoy, were sent to scout ahead, but not for an enemy force. They were searching for Tywin’s own scouts and hunting them down.

The parties that the Tully army formed also helped in that situation, as well as Ghost and Grey Wind, who were let on ahead to help the hunters. 

They were instructed to kill anyone who saw the raiding parties and Robb’s forces, and ‘accidentally’ let the people who only saw Robb’s seemingly small host get away and hopefully report their findings to Tywin. 

The next step was the bait. Robb asked for a black and red tent to be made, and a three-headed dragon banner alongside it.

And lastly was the march. It was not fast paced but not slow as well. They needed time for the Lannister forces across the riverlands to notify Tywin about Roose Bolton’s large host liberating the Riverlands.

What Robb created was a bait so good nobody could resist it. Less so when the enemy commanders were a green boy and an exiled princess. The image he projected was such: The majority of the Stark Forces were liberating the Riverlands, and the Riverlords were busy taking on the Lannister forces individually, not in mass. Furthermore, Robb’s rather small force was traveling with the three most important pieces of the war so far: Robb, Edmure and Daenerys. The latter they sent the Lannisters never mentioned Jon, but if it did it would only add to it.

They would lure the Lannisters into a trap, with the riverlords forming their armies to help match the Lannisters and the sheer fear they would feel from Drogon’s presence, Robb hoped to win a rather clean victory. 

          The Dragonrider - Viserys VI

He expected to hear from Daenerys, but even when a man from the Water Gardens showed him the letter that came from Riverrun, Viserys still found it hard to believe.

It was hard. He waited for the day that house Targaryen would finally rise to declare war against the usurpers for two thirds of his life, but now that the day came, he was shaking. 

Shaking out of excitement. 

Viserys,

The Realm is at war. 

The North and the Riverlands declared for House Targaryen, and we are fighting the Lannisters in the Riverlands.

We hold the Kingslayer captive.

Raise the Banners.

Daenerys Targaryen

After he read that, the messenger sent by Doran told him that his presence was requested in the Water Gardens.

But Viserys waved him aside.

He had different plans. He would arrive at the Water Gardens, but…

He was already armored, and he grabbed Blackfyre on his way to the yard.

Viserion was there. Waiting.

The saddle he got for him was already on his back. Ever since Daenerys left, Viserys tied it to Viserion every morning and got it down every evening. He needed practice, and he wanted to be ready.

It was lonely since his sister left to her quest of getting the north to side with them. He knew it was worth it, but it was the first time in seventeen years that he was separated from his sister, and even if he only gained an appreciation for her company in the last two, it was still hard on him.

But he had Viserion. 

And now, he climbed Viserion. 

He would arrive at the Water Gardens like a real Targaryen would. Like how his ancestors would. And their descendants too, if they still had their Dragons.
The Dragon perked up. He stretched his Wings 

“Viserion, sōvegon!” he shouted.

And the wings flapped, and Viserys was off. He was moving through the air. He was flying.

The dreams of almost any Targaryen before him were finally achieved, through his sister first, but now he did so as well.

It was the best feeling of Viserys’s life.

But he also understood rather quickly why it was that his sister cautioned against riding a dragon for the time being. 

He understood why she said that Viserion wasn’t big enough.

They swayed in the air, Viserion working hard to stay sturdy, but Viserys’s weight on his back was not helping him. Viserys himself was only alive thanks to the saddle, or so he thought. What embarrassment would he be, the first Targaryen to die by falling from his dragon after being foolish enough to ride him when he was too small.

But Viserion held him in the air. And the wind streaking across his face and body was elevating. It was everything he dreamt of, everything that any one of his ancestors, from Daenys the Dreamer to Aegon the Dragonsbane felt when skybound. 

It was just a bit sad that his first memory of flying would be ruined by the shaking of his admittingly too-small dragon to strong air currents every 10 seconds. 

He would have to apologise to Daenerys for not following her advice, giving that he and Viserion would not become Dragonpaste when landing in the water gardens. 

Speaking of the water gardens, Viserys saw them. But he actually saw them. All was visible to him at once, from the height of Viserion’s back he could see the horizon stretching in a way he never thought it could before.

He instructed Viserion to dive towards the Water Gardens. He didn’t want to climb too high for now, especially not until he was sure Viserion was big enough to handle a flight.

The dive was dangerous. Viserys knew that. But he could not for the life of him stop the feeling of ecstasy he felt from finally being in his rightful place. Or what would have been his rightful place in a couple of weeks if he actually listened to his sister.

But the Water Gardens were more visible for now, and Viserion, although still shaking, stopped hitting the stronger air currents that were seemingly present higher in the sky.

He saw the courtyard that Doran often met them in, and instructed Viserion in the direction. He needed no more than a slight push or pull to help the dragon fly, which, considering how badly their first fly could have gone, Viserys was more than happy about.

They landed in front of a very surprised looking House Martell. Everyone seemed to have gathered there.

The landing itself, thanks to whatever god was guiding them, Viserys didn’t care for their names, was rather sturdy. 

Viserys still felt wobbly when dismounting Viserion, but with everything he had, every drop of his willpower, he stepped down and stayed balanced. The entrance he was aiming for was that of a Targaryen of old, not a rookie dragon rider.

He did not know how he looked, but he certainly assumed it was impressive. He was wearing his black armor, Blackfyre at his hip and his dragon, the mighty Viseryion, was at his back.

“Prince Doran,” Viserys addressed the prince of Dorne, trying to sound as casually as he could, as if he just came into the courtyard normally. “You sent for me?”.

The eyes of the entire house were in shock. Arianne had a look on her face that Viserys knew to be her happy face, or, at least, one of them. Quentin and Tristane looked in shock and awe, same as Oberyn and his Bastards.

But most of all was Prince Doran. He never went to their abode to see the Dragons due to his gout, so he only heard about their growth, never to see it for himself.

Viserys held his swaying legs until he didn’t feel the swaying anymore. 

“I…” The prince murmured before catching himself. “I indeed called for you, Viserys. I assume the man I sent gave you what your sister said?”

Viserys smiled. Not only did his entrance get the intended result, but the path to the Iron Throne was getting clearer and clearer by the moment.

“He indeed gave it to me. We have two more kingdoms on our side, and from what she said, she dealt a blow to the Lannisters in the Riverlands. The man who killed my father is a hostage. From the tone of the letter, I suspect she won’t stop where she is and will move to act against Tywin himself.”

“I think that as well,” Oberyn said. “She is right. The time to strike is now.”

“I intended to wait for a while longer before declaring war,” Doran said. “But what Daenerys did changed these plans.”

“I think it’s more than only two kingdoms she got to our side,” Viserys said. “She said that the Riverlands support us. That would mean House Tully is on our side. Isn’t the lady of the Eyrie a Tully by blood?”

Doran’s eyes flashed with cunning. “That is true, lady Lysa was born and raised in Riverrun, but there’s more that the letter didn’t tell you. Both of the Usurper's brothers declared themselves kings.”

Viserys hardened with determination. “Then we gather the banners at the Boneway and march on the pretenders,” he looked around before continuing. “Or we test the reputation of Highgarden or Storm’s End in the face of a Dragon.”

Oberyn and Doran shared a look. Viserys knew Doran. He knew how much that man liked to wait. But he knew that the time was right now. How would he look if he just let his sister do all the work?

“I will call the banners to the marches.” Oberyn declared after he won his seeming battle of stares with Doran.

Viserys needed to prepare. Sure, it was one of the most exciting days of his life and they were finally moving for the goal he had since hearing of Tywin’s betrayal in Dragonstone, but more importantly, he had to fly back to their place. 

Walking all the way there would be a sign of weakness.

While less memorable, his flight back was much calmer than his first one. He assumed it was because he knew what flying was like, but it may have been due to Viserion keeping to lower altitudes and not facing as much air currents.

Still, when he got home what was waiting for him was wobbly legs, and he and Viserion both laid on the ground, exhausted and unsteady.

Daenerys was probably a natural… or maybe it’s just like that because of Viserion’s size. I’d have to ask her when we meet again.

The last thing he thought before he puked was how lucky he was to not eat much before.

“This calls for more practice… But only when you’re bigger. I want flying to be…” 

He didn’t really finish that sentence. There were no words he could use.

          The Survivor - Arya V

Walking was slow. Arya knew that, of course, but she didn’t really walk any long distance by herself until now. Always she rode on horseback. 

They ditched the Gold Road once they got across the water from Blackwater Rush and advanced north towards the Godseye. They didn’t encounter many people on the gold road, and those they did were either going away from King’s Landing or coming from the Westerlands. 

Either way, news from the Riverlands was not much, and what they heard was outdated. Arya, Bran and Ser Barristan already knew that the Starks engaged the Lannisters because of her father’s death.

It made sense that people from the Westerlands of King’s Landing weren’t the most caught up on the happenings in the Riverlands, but Arya worried still for Robb.

When they asked Ser Barristan what was he going to do, they heard the old knight say “After I escort you to Riverrun, I mean to head out and search for a king worth serving.” 

Still, she was happy to be traveling with a companion aside from Bran, but not as happy as Bran was. It only made sense.

Luckily, Ser Barristan knew more than Arya and Bran did about almost anything, including how to start a fire. It wouldn’t do them any good once they got close to the Riverlands themselves, since they could be seen by Lannister scouts, but it did do them well so long as they put it out quickly and did not linger. 

The fire was mainly used for one thing: cooking. While none of them were particularly good at it, it was still better than nothing, and they didn’t need to lift a finger to get game, the wolves did it for them.

When they stopped since their legs were tired, Arya practiced what she learned from Syrio, which, unsurprisingly, raised one of Barristan’s eyebrows.

He looked at Needle in her hand, her stance and her movements. His eyes, she saw, were filled with the experience of decades.

“That is Braavosi bladework,” He commented, “Where did you learn it?”

“It’s the water dance,” She replied, “I learned it in the Red Keep. I had the best teacher.”

“Ah, so this is what I heard about dancing lessons.” he nodded. Both he and Bran were watching. 

Arya assumed that at the moment, Ser Barristan didn’t instruct Bran himself to join her due to their lack of weapons he could practice with. They only had the one sword that Ser Barristan used after Bran fumbled with it against the Gold Cloaks, and that sword wouldn’t do Bran any good in training.

And so it was. They advanced in the days and slept in the nights. They needn't worry about water, since they were moving by the stream towards the Godseye, and when they do head towards Riverrun, they would have the fresh water from the Rivers of the Riverlands. 

They ate from the bounty of the land and from the game the wolves hunted, although Arya suspected that that sort of food will be harder to come by when they get to the wartorn Riverlands.

The only disadvantage about their trail was the lack of people, and that too came with its own benefits. While no one could actually identify them and deliver news of their locations to the different factions, which was a big plus, they could also not get updated on the situation in the Riverlands. And all of that fueled Arya’s fears.

“King Joffrey Baratheon.” She whispered

It came like an instinct. 

“Queen Cersei Lannister . ”

The names rolled off her tongue. Those of the people she was going to kill.

“Ser Ilyn Payne.”

Those that were responsible for her father’s death. 

But… Some more names came. Ones that she wasn’t sure why she said.

“Lord Tywin Lannister.”

This one made sense. He was the one who attacked the Riverlands, and he was now fighting Robb. And he is a Lannister too, She thought.

“Ser Gregor Clegane.”

The Mountain. She knew he was the first one to attack on Tywin’s command, but… Why did his name come to her lips?

“Sandor Clegane.”

The Hound. He was also on that list? Arya knew he was Joffrey’s bodyguard. That was probably enough.

“Lord Walder Frey.”

She knew he was Lord of the Crossing, but… What did he ever do to her?

“Ser Amory Lorch.”

She didn’t even know who this was.

Some more names came, but none of them as important as a lord or a knight.

And what was scary was that she didn’t know any of these people, but she felt violent feelings towards them. She knew she wanted to kill them. She knew that they deserved it.

She just didn’t know why.  

Chapter Text

          Jon VI

Jon, Robb, and Daenerys were all in agreement.

As a king, Jon needed a crown. 

They had that debate before leaving Riverrun to face Tywin.

Daenerys’s Valyrian Steel circlet, the one worn by Aegon I was the first thing that came into thought, but they all decided against it. She rode the black dragon, and it was hers.

The only problem is that they didn’t have an extra crown. 

Before they left Riverrun, they debated the possibility of forging one for Jon. “Riverrun had a smith,” Daenerys told him.

But unsurprisingly, what Riverrun didn’t have was the metals from which a king’s crown should be made out of. 

Robb then came out with an idea. “How about a crown like the ones worn by the old Kings of Winter? You are half Stark, and that can be a symbol between the north and the Tragaryens.”

Jon liked the idea. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but that crown was a circlet of bronze with nine blackened Iron points?” Daenerys asked.

“Aye.” Jon said. “With rune carvings. Ones of the first men.” Robb added.

“There’s a very similar Targaryen crown. The one worn by my grandfather. It was a circlet of Gold with blackened Iron points. Do you think we can combine the designs?”

That sparked more debate, and the result they reached was a hybrid Targaryen-Stark crown. It would be a golden circlet like Maekar’s crown, with rune carvings and nine black Iron points, like the one worn by the Starks.

“It would also have some appropriate symbolism. Both Maekar and Jaehaerys II, the kings who wore that crown fought people who tried to steal the throne.” Deanerys added.

“These were the Blackfyre Rebellions, right? The War of the Ninepenny Kings?” Robb asked.

Jon himself was not too knowledgeable about the Blackfyres, but he knew about the War in the Stepstones against the Ninepenny Kings. 

Daenerys nodded. “They said Maekar was so fearsome on the battlefield that the Blackfyres feared starting another rebellion when he was on the Throne.”

“Seems like a fitting crown then. I like that idea.” Robb said.

Jon, however, wasn’t paying them a lot of attention. He was lost in thought. He tried remembering something he was sure he knew. It was sitting on the edge of his thoughts. Something that came back to him when he heard Daenerys talking about king Maekar.

But then it clicked.

That King… He was Maester Aemon’s father! Jon remembered the frail old maester of the Night’s Watch. 

He’s… still alive…

Jon remembered his time with the old man. He looked at Daenerys. 

I should probably take Daenerys to meet him. He thought. He’s… Our family. And I think he will be happy to hear about the dragons.

“Maekar is my…” Jon did the math from what he knew about history. “...Great-Great Grandfather?” Jon asked Daenerys. He wasn’t used to thinking about the Targaryen kings as family, but still. He wanted to know his relation to Maester Aemon.

Thinking for a second, Daenerys said “Great-Great- Great Grandfather. I think you forgot Jaehaerys II…” She said.

Aemon said he was the brother of Aegon the unlikely, that would mean that he is my… Great-Great-Great uncle…

All that thought about the Targaryen Family tree was making his head hurt a bit.

Robb looked slightly confused. “It’s weird to speak about the kings like that…” he said.

“I know what you mean,” Daenerys said. Jon himself also nodded. “I heard about Westeros and my family only from my brother, but I was never here before I was 15…”

The topic of conversation quickly changed.

After the crown, the topic of a sword came up. Daenerys did tell them that her brother had Blackfyre, the sword of Aegon the Conqueror.

The Sword of kings… It will be good to have Valyrian steel again. But…

“Blackfyre is a longsword?” Jon asked. 

Daenerys nodded. 

“Then I think I will pass on it, at least for now.”

The Ideal image of a weapon that came to Jon was obviously his sword, Longclaw. Except it was at the wall, and it was the weapon of house Mormont. He wasn’t going to take it. The Lord Commander originally gave it to him.

The simple truth is that Jon preferred the reach and versatility of a Hand-and-a-half sword (also called a bastard sword) like Longclaw. 

He would certainly not oppose taking Blackfyre if it was the only option when the time came to fight the Others, but if he could help it, he would rather have Longclaw or a similar sword. 

Now, Jon once again witnessed Robb’s strategy in motion.

He was unable to actually see Robb’s war on his first time, since he was too busy beyond the wall, but now it was not only Robb’s war. It was his war as well. To rescue his siblings or cousins or whatever they would be called, and to claim the Iron Throne.

And their army marched.  

Just like Robb commanded, the Northern forces and around half of the soldiers of house Tully marched together, flying the banners of the Bear, the chained giant and more, but most importantly: The Direwolf, the Trout and the Dragon.

All four (Or three, Jon wasn’t sure if Tywin knew who he was) leadership figures of their army were here with a small force. 

During the days, Jon rode with the soldiers. Rhaegal was still not big enough to ride (Although he certainly seemed to be, but Jon decided to listen to Daenerys, who said that he wasn’t used to flying with extra weight and that Jon might fall from the sky, or at least have a very unstable flight), so he was going alongside Robb and Lord Edmure, who were coordinating their march with Ser Brynden Tully and the Riverlanders.

Jon got more sleep than Daenerys. She was flying on Dragonback in the evenings to try and find out if Tywin and his host left Harrenhal and were heading towards them.

It was yet another successful ploy. Jon himself was barely able to see Drogon when he got closer to the camp, and only fully saw him when he landed. To men who didn’t know what they were looking for… They may have more luck searching for a ghost.

But while Jon’s body slept, Jon was half-awake. 

He knew what he was experiencing at that point. Warg Dreams.

He was running wild through the Riverlands on four legs, and he heard the howling of a wolf in the distance. 

But it was not Ghost. It was grey Wind, since Jon and Robb released their direwolves at night.

Even while sleeping, Jon was scouting ahead. He didn’t control the wolf dreams, he couldn’t stop them nor induce them. But they were harmless, so he didn’t try much. He had other things on his mind.

They passed through Bracken Territory and the castle of Stone Hedge that fell to the Lannisters was liberated in a manner of hours. No Lannister soldier escaped, and Lord Jonos organised a small feast to thank the new King and Queen.  

It was a rather modest affair, but seeing as the army was marching and his castle just liberated, Jon understood.

Either way he was used to way worse meals as it was, so it was a welcome surprise.

It was just weird that everyone referred to him as king. Previously, it was just Daenerys and Robb and the rest of the Lords, and it was more of a formality than anything. 

It was the same when he was the King in the North. It was for a really short time and it was only the people in Winterfell who actually called him that.

He was nothing like the one king he actually saw, or even Daenerys when she got to Westeros the last time. No finery, no crown, no entourage.

“Not yet, at least.” Daenerys said. 

She wasn’t in the same position, seeing as she had a crown and Drogon was really all the company that a Targaryen monarch required, but still, it would be time before the people actually saw him as king. 

But he knew it would be soon when he rode Rhaegal, and when he’ll have a crown. And when the people see him sitting on the Iron Throne.

Two weeks passed since their departure from Riverrun. They advanced south of Bracken Territory towards the Lannisters in Harrenhal, and were making good on their promise to help the Riverlands.

Edmure and the Tully men were first on the field when they saw any village on the horizon. Daenerys wasn’t far behind on Drogon, and the Greatjon’s thirst for battle against Tywin was growing each time they engaged Lannister raiders.

It was that night that Jon was sitting inside of the red-and-black tent that was supposed to attract the attention of any scout. He was thinking to himself about the situation he was in.

Being king was still weird. Robb and he spent all their lives as brothers, and now Robb was technically his bannerman. It was technically the same thing with Sansa the last time he was crowned, but again, it was too short that time and he had bigger things to think about.

He was no stranger to being in positions of power, but being in charge of the seven kingdoms, even if he was sharing power with Daenerys, still seemed like too much, and so far away.

At least in terms of the military, Jon was more than happy to let Robb be in charge of the battlewide strategy. The last time Jon was in charge of a big battle was at Winterfell and that fight was a disaster. 

The last time Jon was king in general was a disaster. While he was whole with his decision to bend the knee to Daenerys the last time, it was clear that the people didn’t really like that, Sansa especially.

Before that, when he was Lord Commander, he literally died because he made a ‘bad decision’.

Who’s to say I won’t screw up this time?

And the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it was more likely than not.

He died for his pact with the free folk at the wall.

He and his forces barely survived fighting the Boltons for Winterfell, and they only won because of Sansa’s alliance with the Vale.

He pissed off most of the North during his short time as their king.

He fumbled the battle of Winterfell.

His track record was not the best.

He heard grey Wind howling from the outside of the tent.

Footsteps. He thought, recognizing the sound of someone approaching his tent.

“Your Grace,” Said a guardsman from the opening. “The queen is back. She wants to see you.”

Your Grace, huh… Most people called him that now.

Ghost followed him as he went to meet Daenerys outside. She was already in the presence of Robb and Grey Wind, as well as some of the Northern lords and one tired-looking Theon Greyjoy.

Jon could already see the other lords approaching their location.

“Lannister host,” Daenerys said. “Massive. It was bigger than the one besieging Riverrun, from what I saw.”

This is it. “How far?” Robb asked, his voice was serious in tone, and Jon could see that Robb’s mind was already at work.

“Four days or so from here.” Daenerys replied.

Now all the lords in the camp were present, and Robb immediately started issuing orders. “Send men to contact Ser Brynden and the other Riverlords,” he said to Edmure. “Theon, tomorrow I need you guys to scout the area for a good place to execute our battle plans.”

“Notify your men.” Jon said to the northern lords. 

The northern lords looked at him with hardened eyes, and the Greatjon laughed. Theon was also smiling.

Jon then turned to Daenerys. “Is Rhaegal big enough?”

          The Prisoner - Sansa II

Being in court was miserable. She saw the way people looked at her, and she heard some of the whispers. Her family were in open rebellion, and Sansa knew that she was nothing more than a prisoner in a fancy cage. 

She thought that being betrothed to Joffrey was the only thing keeping her out of the dungeons, but sometimes, she thought that maybe, just maybe, the dungeons would be preferable to her king’s hand in marriage.

At that time she was slightly sad that she was less like Arya. She always chastised her little sister for not behaving like a proper lady should, but now she saw who’s behavior led to what outcome. 

Bran always climbed back at home, maybe he just climbed the walls of the Red Keep to escape, and Arya was sneaking around, doing who-knows-what under that dancing teacher of hers, Sansa only knew it had something to do with sticks.

Maybe they snuck outside of the Red Keep. Maybe they are with Robb in the Riverlands…

She could only hope.

Sansa resolved to not be afraid. She resolved to be a bit more like Arya and Bran maybe, to escape the Red Keep, to escape her betrothal to Joffrey.

She wanted only to be in Winterfell with her family, with Robb and mother and the rest of her siblings. She even preferred the bastard Jon over most of the people in court.

She hoped to understand why Robb of all people would work with that ‘Daenerys Targaryen’ that she heard about from the latter that they sent to Joffrey, the latter that demanded her to be released.

But it was Joffrey, of course. So the only answer given was a formal declaration of Robb Stark, her uncle Edmure Tully and all other supporters of house Targaryen to be traitors to the crown.

What didn’t help Joffrey and Cersei’s mood were the declarations. Renly and Stannis both crowned kings.

Sansa knew enough about Westeros to realize that the Lannisters’ only allies were the Westerlands and the Crownlands.

Maybe King’s Landing will be taken soon? She hoped it would be Robb who would take the capital. He would kill Joffrey, just like they did father…

Joffrey’s Nameday was coming, and as befitting a king on his first year, preparations already started for a tourney to take place.

Sansa was walking aimlessly around the Red Keep when the commotion started.

Many people moved towards the Throne Room or even the entrance to the Red Keep itself.

Sansa curiously followed. She wanted any information she could get her hands on, and as she walked, she prayed to any god that could hear her that what was presented was not Robb’s head on a pike.

It seems like her prayers were answered. 

It was the Imp, Tyrion Lannister, who had arrived at court. He was escorted by some of the weirdest people Sansa had ever seen.

The whole court gathered around the throne room. Joffrey sat upon the Iron Throne and Cersei stood by its side.

“Your Grace,” Tyrion addressed the king, making a small bow. Although Sansa assumed every bow of his will be small. “Sister,” He said as he turned his head towards Cersei. “I bring news from our father.”

Sansa heard some murmurs, most about the people accompanying the Imp, but they were all cut out when Cersei spoke.

“Speak, then. And make it short.” She said, and from what she knew of the queen, Sansa knew that there was no love between her and her little brother.

“Lord Tywin decided to send me to King’s Landing, to be yours,” He turned to Joffrey, “Hand, until he returns from the Riverlands himself.”

At that, the court’s talking could no longer be silent. She heard her brother’s name tossed out once or twice, “Daenerys Targaryen” came out more often. More related words were also common.

But Cersei’s face told Sansa all she needed to know. She was livid.

Joffrey wasn’t the happiest about it, but the mention of Tywin’s name actually held him at bay, the first time something like that happened since he sat the Iron Throne.

“And how exactly does our father plan to handle war with Stannis, Renly and Daenerys Targaryen?” Cersei asked, her tone was somewhat mocking.

Sansa understood. Everyone knew of Lord Tywin’s competence. Tyrion was sent to govern, not to fight, and he wasn’t the militaristic type from what Sansa knew. He had animosity with his father and wasn’t likely to know the exact plans. 

Cersei wanted him to say that he didn’t know. It would make the first impression he leaves as hand to be one of incompetence.

“Well, Lord Tywin’s plans are already in motion. The Westerlands is raising more men even as we speak, and he gave me orders to issue to the nobles of the Crownlands to start raising levies as well.” Tyrion said.

Cersei’s face showed mild annoyance. 

And Sansa couldn’t help but notice the slightest change in the facial features of one of the members of the small council.

He smiled for a moment, a single moment. It was a small, sly smile, one that snuck onto his face for a moment before being caught by the Spider.

“And that isn’t all,” Tyrion added. “Lord Tywin sent men to Volantis, to begin negotiations with Ser Myles Toyne.” Whispers spread around the court. 

“Who is that?” Joffrey asked, mildly annoyed, but also intrigued. 

With an air of finality, Tyrion said: “Ser Myles Toyne is the Captain-General of the Golden Company.”

Chapter Text

          The Windblown - Jon VII

According to Daenerys, the only reason Jon was alive was the fact that it wasn’t that windy that day.

Jon tended to disagree as the wind hit him in the face with full force.

Three days passed since Daenerys noticed Tywin Lannister’s army, and Jon finally managed to convince Daenerys to let him try flying, so he was actually flying on Rhaegal, but this time was not at all like the last time he rode him. 

In Jon’s other times riding him, Rhaegal was a fully grown dragon, bigger even than Drogon (The one that Daenerys was riding currently).

Now, Rhaegal wasn’t as big as he would be six years in the future.

The experience was shaky. The ‘not as windy’ air currents hit him straight in his face. Even if they did some soft flying, he still felt like he held onto Rhaegal’s back for his life.

When they landed, all eyes immediately turned to them, and it wasn’t hard to understand why. Two Targaryen monarchs riding dragons was a sight not seen in over a century.

Robb was the first one to approach Jon as Rhaegal landed, and Jon appreciated the gesture since when he actually dismounted, or more accurately, tried to dismount, his legs were wobbly and he almost tripped. 

But Robb caught him. Jon hoped the gesture looked like Robb helped him dismount the dragon, and not like Jon fell from Rhaegal’s back.

Jon felt windblown in his front, shaky on his back, and for some reason, his right testicle was hurting. But he picked himself up rather fast.

“You could probably ride if we had a saddle,” Daenerys said as she dismounted and approached. 

Jon himself wanted to fly to battle on Rhaegal, but after what he had just been through, he was beginning to have second thoughts, at least until Rhaegal became bigger.

After that, Jon, Daenerys and Robb headed to the command tent to hear what strategy Robb devised for fighting Tywin. 

“You will need to fly a lot better in battle,” Daenerys said, “I really recommend that you don’t try to fly into battle before you get used to flying normally.”

All of the commanders of the northern army, as well as Edmure and the Blackfish, gathered around a crude map of the area they were in. 

Jon and Robb made sure that the orders about the battle plans were relayed to the scattered Riverlords and their forces by using envoys and the Blackfish himself.

“As most of you know,” Robb began, “Our camp’s current position is horrible from almost every angle.” 

Jon trusted Robb with his life, but he wasn’t wrong. Robb led them into a location that was horrible in terms of defensive advantages.

They were surrounded by a river ford from one side, a rather large hill from the other, and a thicket from a third. The place that they were standing on was once part of said thicket, but Robb ordered some of the trees cut and it only took 4 flybys for Drogon to burn enough space for the northerners to camp on. 

The only place that wasn’t obstructed was the fourth side of their camp. 

“This is a bottleneck. We’re baiting Tywin to attack us from one direction, since the other ones are blocked by the river, the thicket and the hill. Leading an attack from inside the thicket isn’t realistic, the men wouldn’t be able to keep formation and would shatter against our lines, and the hill is too steep to charge down from.”

Robb pointed to the map, at the location of their current camp.

“Striking us here, with his forces being significantly bigger and we essentially trapping ourselves is too good an opportunity to pass. Especially with the King and Queen here. He could end this entire war if he captured them.”

Jon looked at the map, trying to figure out what Robb was trying to set up. He only noticed that the camp wasn’t that close to the bottleneck Robb was pointing at.

That would at least give us a space to retreat… Jon thought, but he waited for Robb to continue.

“We stay here and make them overextend their forces. We have a signal for when that happens,” Robb looked at Theon. “Theon is going to shoot a flaming arrow at a standing log on the hill once the Lannisters get into position.”

“That would be my signal?” Daenerys asked.

Jon’s eyebrows shot up. He looked at the map again, eyes now focusing on the thicket. It would be madness to lead an attack through that trying to flank them, but having seen the area from both the ground and the air…

Robb nodded “You fly in and burn their line. Once their charge is shattered, we rally and hit them hard.” Robb then looked at the Blackfish. “The Riverlanders will wait at the edge of the thicket. Out of sight but close enough to charge when the signal is given.”

Jon realized that Robb created a version of his strategy from the Whispering Woods that would fit Tywin’s bigger army. 

Jon remembered his flight earlier in the day. He thought about Daenerys flying above Riverrun when they relieved that siege. His eyes followed an imaginary line on the map. The flying pattern of a dragon.

Jon pointed at a part of the map between the bottleneck and the Northern camp. “This is where they should be when Theon shoots the log.” Jon said. 

He traced a line on the map with his finger. “Daenerys should fly from the direction of the hill, burn their front line here ,” Jon pointed at a different location on the map, slightly closer to their camp, “And then spin to burn their exit.” He finally pointed to the bottleneck.

Everyone looked at the map closely. “It could work.” Daenerys said after a moment of thinking.

Robb also looked deep in thought for a moment before he continued with his plan. Addressing the Blackfish again, he said “Your rear is also safe. If there’s any signs of a Lannister force heading through the thicket we can burn it.”

More details followed, like the locations of certain houses, archers sent to the top of the hill, all of the less important stuff.

“I doubt we could just defeat the entirety of Tywin’s host right now, but we can inflict a lot of damage. Hopefully, we capture Tywin alive. I want every man to know that our priority is taking Tywin Lannister alive.” Robb said with his most serious tone. “We may still hold the Kingslayer, but I don’t know what will happen to Sansa, Arya and Bran if we kill Tywin.”

Since he could not fly yet Jon was already going to be in the front with Robb. He made a mental note to himself to try and look for Tywin Lannister. 

After that, the meeting was over. Everyone had one last night of sleep before the Lannisters were in a position to attack.

Jon and Daenerys both headed to their tent before falling asleep. Both were tired from the day’s events, and they should generally be well rested before the fight.

          The Warrior - Robb V 

The red banners were visible in the distance.

It has been a day since that strategy meeting, and the sight that treated him was just what Robb hoped to see. 

As a good strategist, you have to try and see the battle from your enemy’s point of view. Was how Robb thought. From what he understood, there was no need to try and trap them. An army of 4,000 Northerners in their positions, between a thick forest, a steep hill and a ford was already trapped, and trying to encircle them through the forest or the hill would only give them time to try and cross the River.

Tywin was needed in the south. He would want to end things in the Riverlands fast.

And so flew the Banners. The Lion of Lannister and other, smaller Westerlands banners on one side, and the Three-Headed Dragon, Trout, and Direwolf on the other, flanked by the banners of Robb’s various bannermen.

Robb, Jon and Edmure were in the middle, where the banners of the two great houses and house Targaryen were located. Robb entrusted command of the Riverlanders in the Thicket to Brynden Blackfish while Robb and Jon would command the North.

The Banners flew ever closer. Robb could feel the tension in the air. His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword.
The Lannister cavalry came closer. They were charging headfirst into Robb’s trap. Robb could fill the eyes of the men at arms, the lords, and even the Rivermen who were out of his sight all drifting towards the huge torch.

Not yet… not yet…

Grey Wind growled. Robb could see with his eyes how close they were to the line. 

And then a shape streaked across the sky. It was fast and burned with orange.

And it hit the torch. The huge log started burning.

Grey Wind howled.

Robb’s sword drew. “Winterfell!” he shouted a battle cry as his forces started to charge.

Then it came. The noise that Robb didn’t think he will ever grow accustomed to. 

A different shape filled the sky, and the line of charging Lannister cavalry broke when black and red flames rained from the sky. The fire didn’t linger. Drogon’s flight was fast, and the fire caught on to the people, but the trampling and falling of the horses doused most of what was on the ground. 

Robb could see Drogon arcing above the thicket towards the line that Jon pointed on the map. The Lannisters were trapped.

And Robb heard their shouts. Ones of confusion and terror.

The North’s battle cries filled Robb’s ears. People usually shouted the name of the caste or house they were fighting for, sometimes even their house words. 

But Robb also heard many cries of “House Targaryen!”, “Fire and Blood!” and so on. It only made sense, as they were quite literally fighting under the dragon. “King Jon!” was one Robb heard from some of the Winterfell men around him. They knew Jon best, after all.

The Riverlanders ran out of the forest. Robb’s forces slammed into the confused and broken Westernmen. Archers rained down arrows.

Grey Wind and Ghost tore the throats of men and the sides of horses. Robb and Jon moved through the battlefield with speed and ferocity, surrounded by Knights from Riverrun who fought with Edmure and the men Robb and Jon brought with them from Winterfell.

The Westernmen tried to fight, but were broken quickly. Their morale came crushing each time Drogon’s wings hammered across the sky. Daenerys and her black dread carved the Westernmen with each flyby, leaving only scorched corpses in their wake.

It didn’t take them much time to annihilate all the Lannister forces who initially came across the bottleneck.

The rest of the Lannister host shattered and escaped, but aside from Daenerys, Robb’s forces were not in any shape to pursue. Still, it seems like the Lannisters lost a major part of their forces. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Tywin will run back to King’s Landing with his tail between his legs.” Jon said. 

“Aye.” Robb nodded. “I don’t think anyone would stay and fight against a dragon.”

Waiting for the count of the dead to be done was not a pleasant affair. Most of their men, Robb and Jon included, were sore from the battle.

When the man, a Tully knight, came to report the numbers, Robb was slightly conflicted. They took down more than 8,500 Lannister men, and still some bodies needed to be counted, but they did lose around 500 to 600 men from the north, and the Riverlanders suffered similar numbers. 

Sadly, Tywin himself was not among the dead, at least from what the counters knew.

It was a victory, but it was Robb’s costliest one yet.

But still, the air around the camp was nothing but victorious, and Robb understood why. 

They made the great Tywin Lannister, the Lion of the West, run away after they took down half his army with half his numbers.

Their target was now Harrenhall. They would take the haunted castle, secure the Riverlands and reunite with Roose Bolton’s army before they turn their sight to King’s Landing, the Iron Throne and Sansa, Arya and Bran’s safe return.

Chapter Text

The King - Jon VIII

Winterfell, Castle Black, Eastwatch-by-the-sea, Dragonstone and the Red Keep.

These are the five castles Jon visited in his past life. 

Even if he actually passed through Riverrun and Stone Hedge now, it only made seven. 

Harrenhall was maybe the biggest one he ever saw. 

“The Castle looks completely abandoned.” Daenerys said. They were in sight of Harrenhall now, almost a week since their victory over the Lannisters.

 Edmure and most of the Riverlords argued for a slightly faster marching pace, so that the Riverlands could finally be free from the Lannister forces, at least in the south. 

There was no news from Roose Bolton and the rest of the Northern Army sent to retake the castles that fell to the Lannisters. Not yet at least. 

Jon knew that, if anything, Roose Bolton was competent. He knew he should keep an eye on the man for any traces of betrayal, but that they should probably make full use of his talents, at least while he was under their command.

“Sadly, it seems like Tywin burned his way towards King’s Landing. The fields didn’t look so well from the air.” Daenerys added, which brought a frustrated expression to Edmure’s face. 

Jon understood the heir to Riverrun. He cared deeply for his subjects, and as the former king in the north, Jon knew what Edmure felt like. 

“Seems like the sight of Drogon sent him back with his tail tucked between his legs,” Robb replied, “Although I doubt he would try to surrender. He knows that with what he and his family did to all of us,” Robb gestured to everyone around. “He knows where surrender will bring him.”

Drogon’s Jaws, most likely. Jon thought.

Edmure turned his head to Daenerys. “And what of his men? Do you think that they went with him to the capital, or that they fled to the Westerlands?”

“I didn’t see anything to indicate that they went in two different directions, but it might just be that the men who fled did not burn anything.” She replied.

“I think that they went to King’s Landing with Tywin,” Jon said. “It’s obvious that they are from the Westerlands, and they probably think we will punish the Westerlands heavily for what the Lannisters did. They may be seeking safety in numbers.”

There was one thing that Jon didn’t add there. There were ways to take down a Dragon. They can be safe behind a wall manned with Scorpions and Balistas and try to shoot down the Dragons.

He remembered Euron Greyjoy taking down Rhaegal with a Scorpion. 

He wouldn’t let that happen this time.

Arriving at Harrenhall was uneventful. The burned castle was deserted, just as Daenerys said it would be.

The wolves were sent in first, they would track any living thing left in the castle, if any. 

After them, from above, flew Drogon and Daenerys, with Rhaegal close at their back. 

Jon and Robb entered in on horseback, leading the northern forces that now counted around thirty-five hundred men-at-arms. 

Then came the Riverlanders. Every day, more and more men sworn to Riverrun came to bolster their army, so much so that Edmure’s forces now stood at fifty-four hundred, almost two thousand more than they had after the battle against the Lannisters. 

Every person who joined their host told similar tales: The Riverlands rose against the Lannisters, and rumours of their victory against Tywin were spreading across the region like a wildfire. 

When they already were at Harrenhall, some party of two-hundred men came from north to Harrenhall, carrying both the Black Plowman on Brown of House Darry and the Red Three-Headed Dragon of House Targaryen on their banners.

They brought news with them: Roose Bolton and ten-thousand Northerners were on their way to Harrenhall, and the rest that separated from Roose’s Army went back to Moat Cailin and the north on Robb’s Orders, to reinforce it against the coming Ironborn, and to get Howland Reed and the Crannogman to join the war.

When their position in Harrenhall was secured, Jon turned to Daenerys.

It has been a week or so, and Jon wanted to try flying on Rhaegal again.

When he last saw the Dragon, he could just feel the same sentiment from him. He wished to take flight.

Daenerys was looking through what things she brought with her from Dorne when Jon found her.

“Good, I was about to go looking for you,” She said when she noticed him. “Take this.” She held a piece of parchment towards Jon.

He took it and opened it. It contained some sort of schematics that he needed a moment to understand.

She just gave him the schematics for a dragon saddle. 

“Give it to a blacksmith when one actually comes here.”

Jon nodded. “I was actually here to ask you if you think I’ll have an easier time riding Rhaegal now.”

She looked at him, violet eyes running all over him.

“We need to decide where the designated Dragon area is in this place. They frighten the rest of the animals too much. After we find that place, we can take off.”

Jon was filled with both excitement and dread at the process of flying again. It was exciting since maybe he will have a better time now, and it was dreadful since today will be more ‘windy’ than that day a while ago.

They chose an open part of the castle to let the dragons nest in as long as they stayed in Harrenhall. 

Jon hoped that now that if he rode Rhaegal a lot more, there would be less instances of the Dragon’s slightly more… wilder behavior. Drogon was a lot more calm than Rhaegal was, and according to Daenerys, it resulted from him getting more attention. 

The whole reason they even needed a separate Dragon part was simply because Rhaegal sometimes decided he wanted to eat a horse. 

And a dragon does not ask for permission.

Luckily, Jon didn’t know if the day or the terrain or whatever other thing it was, but the day was less windy. 

Even riding bareback, Jon felt more sturdy than last time. There was no riding to battle like this, not on his life, but when he had a saddle things would be different. 

Right now, he and Daenerys were on a casual ride. But, of course, there was another purpose to this. 

Unlike Daenerys, and her description of Viserys, Jon lacked the Targaryen look, but common thought dictated that there was nothing more Targaryen-looking than riding on a Dragon.

So while Jon wanted to fly for flying’s sake, seeing the two dragons flying together also served as a reminder to everyone that he was king just as Daenerys was queen, which tremendously helped his image.

There was no communication during the flight. Even if there was barely any wind, the sound of one’s voice will be nigh unhearable, and much less discernible, when not flying on the same Dragon.

So he followed Daenerys’s lead. Drogon and her were more experienced, and they were doing light flying anyway.

What Jon didn’t expect to see was an army.

He saw it when they were flying west of Harrenhall. It came from the North-west, and carried many banners, most undiscernable from the height he was on.

Daenerys and he both dived towards them. He knew that in case a battle started, he would fly back to get Robb and the Riverlanders to ready a charge while Daenerys would start burning enemy lines.

But it was completely unnecessary.

The army flinched when they saw the two dragons approaching, but neither Dragon actually released flame, and just passed above the army. 

Daenerys, who was at the lead, was waiting for their reaction. They would reveal if they were friendly or hostile by their reaction.

But Jon didn’t need that. He saw at least two banners he recognised being flown.

Cautiously, he tapped Rhaegar’s neck. The Dragon understood Jon’s intention and sped up a bit. 

He was trying to gain Daenerys’s attention, and it was working. When she looked at him, he signaled Rhaegal to dive, and with hand and half-body movements, he instructed the dragon to land in front of the army, whose soldiers were frozen in place.

It worked well enough, although Rhaegal landed a bit closer than Jon intended, which scared some of the men-at-arms to a level that Jon wouldn’t be surprised if they actually soiled their pants.

Not every day a dragon landed close to you.

Banners carrying the Sigils of Houses Smallwood, Piper, Mallister and both the branches of house Vance flew strong against the wind created by Rhaegal’s landing.

He remembered the sigils themselves from a discussion about the Riverlander houses. By rough estimation, the army counted more than three-thousand men.

Jon was visible for the army to see. He didn’t know how he looked atop Rhaegal, but the reaction of the men told him enough. 

They cheered. Loudly.

Daenerys’s landing a moment later only made the cheering louder. 

Most of the calls were “House Targaryen!”, mostly because, Jon assumed, most of them did not know his name. 

But it quickly changed.

Some men from the part of the force flying the Mallister eagle called “King Jon!” and some others did “Queen Daenerys!”, and the names spread across the cheering men like wildfire.

No people cheered for Jon like that. He remembered the great hall of Winterfell was filled with cheers when Wyman Manderly declared him the King in the North, but there were not more than two or three dozen people in that place. 

Not close to three thousand.

Jon could see Daenerys looking at him before tapping Drogon twice at his back. The dragon looked up and released a burst of black dragonfire to the sky. Rhaegal’s flame followed as Jon did the same, its bright yellow and green colors drawing the gaze of their ‘audience’.

“We fly, they will follow!” He heard Daenerys shout to him. 

He understood. With a light tap, Rhaegal soared to the sky, Daenerys following closely behind, and they advanced towards Harrenhall. 

The new Riverland host already started marching after them.

“You’re back here early.” Robb said as he went to greet Jon after he landed at Harrenhall. 

Jon himself fared much better than he did last time with the after-effects of flying. 

His legs weren’t as wobbly, and his stomach stayed in its correct place. 

“We saw an army coming from the West,” he said to Robb. “The Western Riverlanders are here.” 

Robb nodded. “We’ll notify Edmure and Ser Brynden.” 

“While you do that, I’ll continue a sweep of the area around us.” Daenerys said, and took off on Drogon again.

The Greenseer - Bran V 

The Lion and the Wolf were fighting on a field of fire, and the sound of wingbeats was audible in the sky.

Bran knew that he somehow used magic. He knew that since when he was resting, he was sometimes actually running as summer, or watching from the eyes of a bird.

When he was not, he had dreams. 

The dreams that told him about the future. 

That particular dream about a lion and a wolf fighting came most nights, until it abruptly stopped around a week ago, when the God’s Eye lake was already in sight.

Sadly, or maybe fortunately, they did not encounter any people. The people who lived on the shore of the God’s eye fled since a battle took place on the Western shore, which was the route that Bran, Arya and Ser Barristan decided to take to reach Riverrun.

They found the now abandoned battlefield on the shore of the lake. It was a nice open area that nobody came to, so starting a fire and cooking some game Nymeria caught was something that nobody in their small group actually opposed.

And so the meat was cooking and Bran and Arya were practicing. 

Ser Barristan still found the time to instruct Bran in arms, and while he didn’t have the knowledge Arya had on Water Dancing, he could still offer some advice from his years of experience.

They were traveling like that for a while now.

After they finished eating, the high noon sun started to move downwards towards the west, and the fire they used for cooking was about to be turned off.

And then they saw it. 

In the sky. A shadow too big to be a bird.

And not in the right shape as well.

No, it was something else flying. 

Something huge.

They all looked up. The direwolves prepared themselves, and so did Ser Barristan, but there was nothing to be ready for. They either died or lived depending on how they act.

The creature descended. It was bigger than Bran expected. 

His eyes opened in amazement. He didn’t need to see Arya and Ser Barristan to know that they had the same reaction.

After all… 

Who wouldn’t be awestruck after seeing a Dragon?

When the Dragon landed, Bran noticed something. There was a figure on the Dragon’s back.

As she descended, Bran could note more details about her. 

The woman who dismounted the Dragon was a Targaryen queen, with her silver-blonde hair braided and a crown of black metal and Rubies sitting atop her head.

Bran could see Ser Barristan from the corner of his eye. He drew his sword and placed it at his feet before kneeling.

Bran remembered what the old knight said about finding a king worth serving.

The queen, Bran saw, looked at him and at Arya, and then at the direwolves.

“Bran and Arya Stark, I presume?” She asked. “And…” She pointed her gaze to the kneeling old knight. “Ser Barristan Selmy?” She was surprised.

“That… That is me, yes,” He said. “I… assume I am talking with Daenerys Targaryen?”

“You are.” She said. 

“If I may ask, is your brother, Prince Viserys, alive and well?” Ser Barristan asked.

“He is, but if you want to serve the king, that would be my betrothed, Jon Targaryen.”

Bran’s thoughts immediately wandered to his brother, Jon. He didn’t know why it went there, but whenever he tried to think about a ‘Jon Targaryen’ he just imagined his own brother.

“Forgive me, your grace, but I am… not familiar with the name.” The old knight answered.

“New evidence came to light. During his time in Dorne, my brother Rhaegar annulled his marriage with Elia Martell and married Lyanna Stark,” She looked at Bran and Arya. “Your Aunt.”

Somehow, this very surprising reveal was not at all a surprise for Bran.

Ser Barristan looked like a dozen thoughts were going through his head at once.

“They had a son and he grew up in Winterfell under the guise of Ned Stark’s bastard, to protect him from Robert Baratheon.”

“Wait, if you are going to marry Jon, does that mean you are fighting with Robb against the Lannisters?” The question came from Arya this time. 

“Yes,” Daenerys looked at her now. “We defeated Tywin and the Kingslayer in battle. Robb and Jon are currently in Harrenhall. I will fly to tell them you’re here, and they will come to escort you safely to Harrenhall.”

“It’s good to see the two of you here, I know that your mother, lord Robb and Jon are really worried about you. But may I ask: Where is your sister, how are you here and how did you come to travel with Ser Barristan?”

Bran could hear a genuine note of curiosity in her voice.

“We escaped from King’s Landing when the Lannisters took over the throne with the help of our direwolves and Arya’s dancing teacher, but they already had Sansa by the time that we managed to find each other. We escaped to find Robb and tell him what happened.” Bran answered. He tried to stay calm, but he actually wanted to ask Daenerys about her Dragon. He just knew it wasn’t the right time or place.

Bran eyed the black beast, thinking back to all the stories he heard about Balerion the Black Dread. The Dragon Daenerys rode wasn’t as big as the Black Dread, but it was still a dragon. Not something Bran ever thought he would see.

But it was Arya who stared at it most intensely. Bran remembered that she said she was in the room with the Dragon Skulls in the Red Keep. 

But Bran could not imagine the Dragon dead. Even a greatsword was too small for it, and he thought that this thing’s teeth alone would scare any person who even came close to it to try and use a weapon.

Barristan was the next one to speak. “As for me, Joffrey ‘dismissed’ me from the Kingsguard, so that he could give the title of Lord Commander to his uncle, the Kingslayer. After that, I decided to look for a king worth serving. A Targaryen King. I will serve if you would take me, your grace.”

“Very well. I’ll be honored to have a knight as distinguished and skillful as you serving in my Kingsguard, and I am sure Jon will share this sentiment.”

Barristan lowered his head again.

Daenerys looked at Bran and Arya again. “I can see where you two are looking.” She said.

She then walked back a couple of steps and approached the Dragon. “I can see he interests you. This is Drogon. You two want to try and touch him? He will let you if you don’t act too aggressively close to him.”

Bran was sold. He never thought he would get to see a dragon, much less to touch one. He could see that Arya had similar thoughts from the look on their place alone.

As they approached, Daenerys kept one hand on Drogon’s back, as if telling him to hold it back.

Bran was the first to stretch his hand towards the Dragon.

Just like how he could feel the magic he performed earlier, Bran could feel the magic coming from Drogon. It was like a great stream ending in a waterfall. 

And then… His hand met the warm scales.

He could hear the Dragon’s breath.

But what he could see…

Bran was thrown. He was first on the broken tower in Winterfell. Climbing. 

Then he was sitting in a chair. Then a cave. And the images kept coming. And coming. 

Just like the stream of magic from the Dragon, the stream of memories came back to Bran.

Bran shook awake. He only touched the dragon for half a moment, but he felt like he slept a long, dreamless sleep.

He took a step back before falling. 

But his legs worked. He felt them. 

Slowly, carefully, Bran rose to stand.

He was standing on his own legs. Not as a direwolf. Not as Hodor. As Bran Stark.

He looked at Daenerys again, who still had her hand on Drogon. She was smiling and looked more satisfied than she did moments prior.

She knew it would happen. This means that this probably happened with Jon too.

The Black Dragon gave Bran a long stare, but his attention switched when Arya also reached her hand to touch his scales.

Her eyes jolted up. She immediately looked in every direction, eyes lingering on Bran’s standing form.

Bran took a couple of steps back, and Arya also backed up upon seeing Daenerys. 

“Was it like you expected?” Daenerys asked.

Arya shook her head slowly. “Not at all.” Bran said.

Daenerys looked at Ser Barristan again. Bran was in half-surprise seeing the old knight, the memories of what happened were still all confused in his head.

“I am going to fly to Harrenhall and return with an escort. Stay here unless anyone else comes.” She said before starting to mount Drogon again.

As she flew off, Bran’s eyes lingered on the Dragon’s shrinking form, but his mind was somewhere else entirely.

Robb is alive. And mother, and Rickon…

His memories may have been a jumbled mess, but he did remember the crowd of people at his father’s execution. 

That was one thing that didn’t change.

But at least he was himself. He was no longer crippled. And his family was a lot more whole than the last time he remembered. 

And there was no pesky three-eyed crow in control of him this time.

Bran honestly did not expect that.

Daenerys VIII 

Daenerys was happy that flying to Harrenhall still took a little amount of time. 

She needed to digest what just happened. 

Her meeting with Bran Stark happened a lot sooner than she expected.

She knew that she wanted to actually thank him for sending her to the past, but she thought he was still in King’s Landing. 

She had no idea what she was going to say to him. Both as a thanks, and… how to word her request.

And she just kept internally going on and on and on.

Drogon landed in a hurry. She wanted to make a longer sweep around the God’s Eye, so her returning so soon caught the attention of the people who stood at the lookout.

She was able to see it from above the castle, and when she landed in the improvised Dragon Area, She saw Robb, Jon and other lords hurrying to meet her.

“What’s going on?” She heard coming from Jon even before she dismounted Drogon.

“Did you see the Lannisters? Are they back?” The questioning this time came from Edmure, and it was more heated in tone. She assumed that with the gathering of the Riverlords, Edmure’s men were itching to take their vengeance against the Lannisters.

“I found your siblings,” She looked at Robb. “Bran and Arya.”

The shock quickly spread through everyone present.

“What do you mean? Are you sure?” Robb asked almost immediately.

“I was flying low close to the shore of the God’s Eye when I saw two huge wolves from the air and decided to fly down to see what they were, and when I landed I saw both of them.”

“Bran looked like you with the Tully hair and eyes, Arya was more similar to Jon, they both had their direwolves, and they were accompanied by Ser Barristan Selmy.” She continued.

Another wave of shock. Daenerys didn’t expect to have that reaction just by mentioning Ser Barristan’s name.

“What was he doing with them? Isn’t he part of Joffrey’s Kingsguard?” Robb asked.

“Not anymore. He was dismissed so that the title could pass on to the Kingslayer.”

“Dismissing a Kingsguard… and Barristan the Bold at that… I haven’t heard about something like that.” The comment came from the Blackfish, who was, as Daenerys learned, the most experienced battle commander in their army, and had an experience in battle that was comparable to Barristan’s.

That was to say, his opinion was held in the highest regard in the army as a commander and advisor.

“And what about Sansa?” Robb asked. 

“They told me that they couldn’t get to her in time when they escaped the Red Keep, but I only got the short version. I flew here to get you right after that.”

Robb nodded, and turned to the people behind him. “Prepare a cavalry force to ride with me,” he commanded. Turning to Daenerys again, he asked. “Where did you say they were?”

The soldiers in the background were running. “The western shore, just south of here. The place looked like a recent battlefield.”

Robb nodded. Jon rushed towards Rhaegal, the dragon stirring and stretching. “We’ll fly there.” Jon told Robb as Rhaegal’s wings unfolded.

Daenerys heard the sounds of horses coming from a different part of the castle, part of the new hustle that came as a result of Robb’s command. 

Rhaegal flew into the air with Jon on his back, Daenerys and Drogon doing the same a moment later.

Finding the area where Bran and Arya were again wasn’t hard. The two dragons descended to the ground with wingbeats like thunder and winds that made the roots of the nearby trees fight for their lives.

The attention of the old knight was placed firmly on the green dragon this time.

Fair enough, he didn't know Jon was also riding a dragon…

Drogon was just touching the ground as Jon dismounted Rhaegal. She could see Ser Barristan bending the knee to Jon, which made sense, but if he tried to speak, his voice was drowned as both Arya and Bran ran to Jon and hugged him.

Soon after, a howl came from the woods. Daenerys already knew that this howl was the one of a direwolf, which meant that Gray Wind was not far away from them. 

Summer and Nymeria also howled in return. 

It wasn’t long after that hoofbeats were audible in the distance, and not long after that two Direwolves became visible. Ghost went to Jon’s side while Gray Wind went to Nymeria and Summer. 

Robb’s horse was the first one that came through the woods. The cavalry accompanying Robb consisted of around sixty men, with banners flying the Direwolf and Trout.

We have to actually get more Targaryen banners… I trust that Viserys at least worked with the Martells to make their army fly some. They did have two years to make them, and by the looks of it, they are taking their time to declare war against the Lannisters.

Now, as Robb himself dismounted, he was tackled by Arya in a hug, with Bran following right behind. 

For them, Robb was dead for years. It made her feel somewhat jealous. Before meeting Jon, Daenerys’s only family was Viserys. And she certainly didn’t do that when she found him alive again.

Thereafter came a formal thanks from Jon and Robb to Ser Barristan, and Edmure who wanted to meet his Niece and Nephew.

They rode back to Harrenhall only to meet the force of Riverfolk that she and Jon encountered earlier that day. 

It must have been a unique sight for the men in Harrenhall. The Targaryens on their dragons, the Starks with their Direwolves and a huge army or Riverlanders.

The men couldn’t throw much of a feast, but there was certainly wine going around and voices rising high with laughter. 

In particular, the men who participated in the battles with Daenerys and Drogon were busy telling the new arrivals about these fights.

Word was already sent to Riverrun about the taking of Harrenhall and the arrival of the Stark Children, and the reply from Riverrun will hopefully come with news from Dorne.

But when the feast died down somewhat, there was one person Daenerys was looking for.

She went to Harrenhall’s Godswood. This was, in her mind, the best place to look for him.

He looked at her as she approached.

“Bran. I need to speak with you.”

He nodded.

Daenerys had a vague idea of where to start. There was a lot she wanted to say to Bran.

They were the only people inside the Godswood. They had privacy. Daenerys took a deep breath before speaking.

“I owe you my thanks. Without you… none of this would’ve been possible. I can never repay what you did. But I would like to try.”

She was queen. She did not intend to let this go without giving Bran some reward. She had something in mind already, but she didn’t raise it up for now.

“You already did a lot for me too,” He said. “I saw the letter you sent to Jon, the one about keeping an eye on his siblings. If it wasn’t for that, I fear that I will still be in Winterfell now. And I wouldn’t be able to walk.”

“And you could have just done nothing different. Go along with how things were, get your Dothraki and Unsullied and just Attack King’s Landing when you first landed here. You would’ve been queen by the time Jon went to meet you.” he added.

Daenerys thought about that possibility when she first came back to the past, but she decided against it.

“But you didn’t. You went here to save some of the people who died in the War of the Five Kings. My family.”

“You asked me to do it. Remember?” she replied. 

“I do, but you could have just turned the other way once you were out of my reach.”

“That’s another question I have. How are you and Arya able to remember what happened? I only told you to touch a Dragon since I saw it worked for Jon, and he's a Targaryen. How did it work for you?” That question came out of a genuine place of curiosity. Aside from her dragons, Daenerys only interacted with the magic of the Others and the Red Woman. If she was going to have the Starks on her side, she wanted to know how their magic worked.

“Dragons amplify magic,” The answer was simple. “All around the world magic is stronger since the hatching of your dragons, but being close to them is a different matter entirely.”

“And how come you can just send people to the past like that? And how did you know I could just hatch my dragons without blood this time?” She was waiting a while for the answers to these questions.

“Well… You are not going to like the answers…” Bran took a deep breath.

“You killed most of the population of King’s Landing with magical dragon fire. There’s a lot of power in blood sacrifice, and what you did there made you charged with enough of it to do some extraordinary feats of magic.”

Daenerys felt sick.

“So much so that if we go to the Isle of Faces or Moat Cailin, I could probably even activate the Hammer of the Waters with how much blood is still on your hands.”

“What is the Hammer of the Waters?” The name alone made Daenerys shudder.

“Dorne was once connected to Essos. During the immigration of the first men, the Children of the Forest used a huge blood sacrifice to shatter the arm of Drone, creating the Stepstones where there was once land. I saw it happening through the Weirwoods.” He replied, too casually for Daenerys’s taste.

It took her a while to envision the map. Dorne and Essos connect and a moment after a sea is opened where there was once land. She sailed that sea twice, both to reach Sunspear from Pentos and to reach Dragonstone from Meereen.

She struggled to imagine a world where it is missing.

“Like you did with your dragons, you can probably try hatching some other Dragon Eggs. I don’t see a reason they shouldn’t hatch when yours did.”

That also threw Daenerys for a loop. She knew her three dragons well, but more than three? And where would she even find other dragon eggs.

“That aside,” She tried to steer the conversation away from the somewhat positive consequences of her brief dive into madness. “I would still like to reward you in some way for all the help you gave me.”

“I assume you have something in mind?” he asked.

Daenerys pulled it out. She asked for it to be made when she was at Riverrun. It was made of Silver, since they lacked the Gold it was usually made from, but it was impressive all the same.

“You want me to have this?” He asked. He was more surprised as she thought he would be.

“After everything you’ve been through, I’d understand if you decided to just live in Winterfell with Robb and your mother for the rest of your life without doing anything remotely related to the south, but…”

She took a deep breath. 

“Brandon Stark of Winterfell, I present you with the honor of serving as Hand for King Jon and myself.” 

She was a bit nervous saying that.

“We’re going to need your help here, and preparing for the Long Night,” She said. “And… I think we both know how effective the last person with your unique… talents was when it came to holding this office.”

She knew about Brynden Rivers from what she learned in Sunspear. She also knew how Bran knew Brynden Rivers.

Bran had an enigmatic look on his face. Daenerys couldn’t figure out what he was thinking about.

“Does Jon know you’re making this offer?” he asked.

“No, this is more my thinking, but I’m sure he won’t object.” she said.

“I can also give you another thing, but that depends on how well we do in this war.” She said. 

It perked Bran’s interest. “What would that be?” 

“If we do well enough in this war, I can also give you Storm’s End.”

That was a bit of a ‘long term goal’, but she did actually have a plan for it. 

“Storm's End? How are you going to give me Storm's End?” He asked, puzzled.

“Stannis Baratheon has a daughter, Shireen, and I hope we can end this war without her dying. If she does survive, she will be the heir to Storm’s End, and I assume a lot of lords will try to marry her to claim it. Having you there will probably be a lot better than leaving the Stormlands in even more chaos.”

“Hmm…” they stayed like it for a moment. Bran was thinking and Daenerys waiting. She didn’t actually have a plan for who to name as Hand other than Bran.

He had her trust more than most other people in Westeros. He was able to see things others did not,

“I don’t know about the whole Shireen Baratheon situation yet, but… to help you and Jon…”

He took the pin from her hand.

“I’ll be your Hand.”

Relief flowed over Daenerys. She needed a small council to effectively rule Westeros, and Bran was her first choice for someone to lead it. 

“Welcome to the Targaryen Small Council,” She said. “We also already promised the role of Master of Ships to a member of house Manderly, so you won’t be alone for long.”

A deep sigh came in from Bran.

“Now we just need to explain to Robb and my mother why you picked a boy of twelve as your hand…”

Oh.

Arya VI

She was waiting for the queen in her chambers. She knew Jon was also sharing with her, but he and Robb were busy elsewhere.

Ever since she remembered what happened to her in the future-past-whereever Bran said they game from that day, she wanted to talk with Daenerys. She wanted to understand what was going on.

When Daenerys entered the room, she was completely unfazed by Arya being there. 

“I’ve been expecting you,” She said. “I wanted to have a talk.”

“Me too.”

Daenerys started. “I wanted to ask you what are you going to do now that you remember everything that happened.”

Arya thought only for a moment before answering. “I’m going to kill everyone on my list.” she stated it. It was a fact.

“Sorry, but that can’t happen.” Daenerys said.

Arya eyed her. “Why?”

“I promised Robb that he could kill Joffrey however he likes. I assume it will be a beheading with your family sword.”

Oh. So that is what she meant. I am fine with this.

“You killed almost all of the people in King’s Landing. You didn’t care who they were. What makes you think I’ll listen to you, someone who kills indiscriminately?”

I can let Robb kill Joffrey, but I want her to understand that she doesn’t have any power over me, title or otherwise.

“I guess we have that in common.” She said in return.

Arya’s eyes narrowed.

“What?”

“Tell me. Is there not a version of the Twins where the floor is littered with Freys?”

“That’s different. They were murderers.” Arya was not about to take any moral lectures from Daenerys.

“All of them? Did the women and the children also attack the Northerners in the Red Wedding?”

Arya had no answer to that.

“How do you know if one adult was not just a child who grew up since then? How do you know which Frey was actually there?”

“I killed a lot of people without caring who I burned, but you killed innocents too.”

“It’s different. They’re Freys.”

“Let’s assume so. What are you going to do now? Go to the Twins again and kill all of them?”

She was right on target. Arya was not about to let the Late Lord Frey and his Ilk to live after what they did.

“You can’t stop me.”

Daenerys sighed. “I know I can’t. But let me ask you: Why do you want to kill them?”

Arya was getting irritated by this whole ordeal. “They killed my family.”

“Did they? Is Robb not outside? And last I checked, your mother was still in Riverrun.”

“You know what I mean!” Arya was angry now.

“The Freys that killed your family are dead. You said it yourself earlier. Most of these Freys did nothing wrong yet. Are you going to kill them for something they didn’t do?”

“They are going to do it!” 

“They did what they did since they had assurances from Tywin Lannister. Jon is your family. Everyone saw him riding Rhaegal. The only assurance they have now is that we’ll burn the Twins if they touch even one Stark hair.”

“Are you really going to kill people because something only you remember they did? Something that for us now isn’t true in the slightest? You talk to me as if I’m some sort of monster, but I wasn’t in my right mind when I killed women and children. You did that deliberately.

Arya said nothing. She knew Daenerys was right. 

A moment of silence passed between them.

“You want something more out of me, right?” Arya wasn’t as confident as she was before they started talking, but what Daenerys told her wasn’t what she thought she’d hear.

“I understand if you just go to Winterell to live the rest of your life with Robb and your mother without ever coming south again, but… I need your help.”

And there it is. Of course. 

Of course Daenerys wanted her on her side.

After all, who wouldn’t want a private faceless assassin?

“Of course you do, you need my help in-”

They spoke at the same time.

“-killing your enemies for you.” Arya finished her sentence

“-Killing me if I go mad again.” Daenerys said.

What?

“Not what you expected to hear, huh?” another sigh came from the queen.

“I don’t want to go through that again. I despise myself for what I did in King’s Landing that day. I wasn’t in my right mind and I never want to repeat that again. And if I do… I need you to be there and stop me.”

Arya was at a loss for words.

“If I start acting like that again, and I can’t be reasoned with… you’re a faceless assassin, probably the best killer in all of Westeros, you can probably kill me even if I knew you were coming.”

This wasn’t the same Daenerys Targaryen Arya knew from before.

She knew that Daenerys conquered parts of Essos and came to Westeros to take it after that. She made Jon kneel to her to help the North and she burned King’s Landing.

Now she actually sounded like a person. Not a conqueror.

Arya didn’t interact with her much before, but…

“Why?” She asked. 

“Honestly? Aside from Jon and my Brother, you are the closest thing I have to a family.” Daenerys said.

Arya wanted to laugh. Didn’t you have a huge entourage of people from Essos, like the Dothraki, and-

And then it hit her.

They weren’t there.

None of them were there.

There were only Riverlanders and Northerners in Harrenhall. 

Not one Dothraki, or Unsullied, or freed sla-

Oh.

She left her friends in slavery to come here.

She could’ve won the war if she just attacked King’s Landing earlier with her dragons and Dothraki.

She had the chance to just take everything she wanted.

And she squandered it to come here.

Why?

“My brother married your aunt. I’m getting married to Jon. There’s a Dothraki saying like it, Blood of my Blood.”

Blood of my blood, huh?

It made sense. If they were family…

She left everyone she knew and loved behind to come here. If she didn’t, Robb and mother and Rickon would be dead, and Jon would’ve died too, and Sansa will be married again to the Lannisters and the Boltons…

Arya didn’t really think about the family relation between them.

Even if she was marrying Jon, she just didn’t think about it.

In truth… Arya didn’t mind it. She even liked it. Daenerys said before that if anyone thought to mess with them, they would burn. 

Arya always got into trouble back at Winterfell. She liked the sense of adventure. That’s why she sailed west.

Would she really oppose having an older sister with a dragon?

“I’ll help you.” Arya said. It was a bit weaker than she intended.

A sigh of relief was audible. 

“Good, because I don’t think that the Dornish are going to be happy that Jon exists, and they have a habit of assassinating Targaryen kings.”

“Wait, the Dornish? What do they have to do with anything?”

“Well, when I got back in time, saved my brother Viserys and used him as a marriage offering to house Martell so that we can have a safe space to raise the Dragons and allies in Westeros.” Daenerys explained.

“They think he has the best claim to the throne, but that’s actually Jon’s claim. And they wouldn’t like it since Jon is Rhaegar’s child with Lyanna, not Elia.” She finished.

“That’s bad. So this is another reason you need me, to keep all of you safe?”

“It would be nice to have someone of your skills with us. Also, Bran may need your help, so that would be a bonus.”

What does she mean?

“Bran? What does Bran have to do with anything?” Arya asked.

“He’s the new hand of the king.” Daenerys answered.

Ah.

That makes sense. Someone like him would probably be the first choice for anyone competent.

“I'm not sure if anyone is going to be happy with the new hand being a kid, even if Bran is 19 inside. People who vie for power may think that killing him may just be worth their time.”

Arya nodded. “...and having someone like me around is useful if you want to make someone disappear?” 

“Hopefully we don't need that skill of yours, but yes. I'd be lying if I said having the best assassin in Westeros working with me wasn't important.”

There was one last thing Arya wanted to ask of her, but before Arya could say anything else, Daenerys added: “I can also take you on a ride on Drogon.”

“How did you…”

“I heard about who you are. You were probably going to ask Jon for a ride on Rhaegal, but Jon can barely ride Rhaegal, and that's on a windless day.”

“Oh.” Arya said. “Fine, I'll work with you… Your Grace.”

“You can just call me Daenerys. I don't really do the honorifics yet.”

Arya nodded. “For what it's worth, I hope I don't have to kill you.”

Daenerys nodded. "And as a favor for you, I have also canceled your engagement."

"My what?"

"Your engagement to... what was his name? Elmar Frey, I think?"

"My What?!"

"To pass south of the Twins, your mother, lady Catelyn, negotiated you and Robb both marry Freys. I canceled that arrangement."

Arya barely heard what Daenerys said.

"I'm going to kill him." She said.

"You better. Just make it look like it was old age."

Arya looked at Daenerys. "I thought you said that the Freys were 'off limits'."

"The Late Lord Walder is a special case," Daenerys said. "He shamed both sides during the rebellion, raised his swords in the Twins instead of riding to help his liege lord, who was under a siege, and held Robb at the Twins instead of letting him ride to Riverrun or King's Landing. And he was expecting to get a reward for that."

"Good. We see eye to eye." Arya said.

Chapter Text

Everything is advancing according to plan. 

They are setting sail from Volantis.

The Dragon banners will rise soon enough. 

Keep me updated.

Interlude 1 - 

Some time ago...

Heavy rain fell.

The sound of water hitting water was echoing as the small boat sailed to the small island.

On the boat were three men, two of them were big and rowing, one was covered in a cloak, standing and looking at their destination.

Not a word was uttered.

The man probably wanted to sail there with his own ship, and not with the pathetic excuse for a plank he was using, but his ship was forbidden in that place. 

And he didn’t want to pick a fight with the city of Braavos.

Not yet, at least.

The temple was quiet. 

The robed man entered alone. One of the men who rowed the boat was holding a chest while the other was minding the boat.

As he stood in the entrance, cloak dripping with water, someone approached. 

“A man has entered the House of Black and White. What sort of service might a man be seeking here?” said the robed acolyte, his tone casual, as if someone entering a temple ran by a cult of face-changing assassins was a day-to-day occurrence.

“One of the more secretive sorts.” The answer was barely above a whisper.

The acolyte looked at the other man, the one holding the chest, and he nodded.

They walked into the temple and entered a quiet room.

When the door closed, the acolyte spoke again. 

“Does a man have a name to give?” Tone casual as it was before.

“I do.” The man’s voice was smooth. “Balon Greyjoy, King of the Iron Islands.”

If the acolyte had any surprise at the order for assassinating a king, he hid it well. His face, if it was indeed his face, was a mask.

“A man gave a name. But each name has a price. Can a man pay the price for the name of a king?”

The Faceless Men were doubtlessly the most effective assassins in the known world, but their services were priced accordingly. 

The Acolyte’s eyes settled on the man’s eye. 

Instead of answering, the cloaked man walked to the other man, the one who held the chest, opening it slowly with a bit of theatric flare.

He then took out the contents of the chest. One oval-shaped white-grey stone.

It took the acolyte but a second to examine the stone before realizing what it was. 

This time, the slightest twitches of surprise showed themselves on his mask-like features.

“Will this be enough?” The man asked through his bruised, blue lips. As if he did not know the answer already.

“It is,” The acolyte said. “A name has been given and the price paid. Balon Greyjoy will die.”

The man felt satisfied with that. He had no use for the Egg, and soon, the brewing storm will sweep all over the seven kingdoms. And he will be the one controlling it.

The egg exchanged hands, and the man left the temple for the boat again. The Silence was quite a ways away, since he needed the followers of the Many Faced God.

Euron Greyjoy didn’t want them to pray for something- or someone else.

Just yet.

The Lost Dragon - Aegon I (Not the monarch)

The time finally came, he thought. The ship sailing the River Rhoyne swayed so-and-so beneath his legs. 

The time to return home.

He didn’t get much news, simply because there wasn’t much to hear. But the things they did hear were big.

The Usurper was dead. His kin were fighting each other for the seven kingdoms. And so were his Uncle and Aunt.

I cannot begin to imagine how they will react when they see me. He thought.

He didn’t hear much about them. They were his father’s brother and sister, Viserys and Daenerys. He would have to thank them for taking the seven kingdoms back. 

Aegon saw Westeros. Once, when he was in his mother’s arms in the Red Keep. He remembered nothing of these days, but that was to be expected. He was only a babe when it happened.

And still. It was saddening to him that he didn’t actually remember his sister’s face. Or his mother’s.

And it was all thanks to one man. 

The last he heard, Tywin Lannister was hiring the Golden Company to help him in his war against the rest of the usurper’s brothers, and against Aegon’s aunt and the North.

Lord Jon’s opinion was… mixed , about the current situation. On the one hand, the reports said that his aunt and uncle managed to get two whole kingdoms on their side. On the other, these were the North and the Riverlands, two of the kingdoms that betrayed his house. 

Even so, Aegon was more than pleased about the situation. The war forced the Lannisters to just hire the Golden Company to come to Westeros. 

In his imagination, Aegon was sitting atop the Iron Throne. He never saw the thing himself, only heard of how it looked. And still, he was sitting on it.

He commanded an execution.

Jaime Lannister was to have his throat cut open. Queen Cersei will be stabbed with knives until she was nigh on unrecognizable. His other child, Aegon didn’t really remember the name, he was to have his head bashed at the wall. 

And Tywin will have his chest cracked open. It wasn’t quite the usurper, but…

For what he did to his family, Tywin Lannister will die. Aegon will make sure of that.

He took one last look at Volantis before climbing on the ship with Duck, Haldon and Lord Jon.

The next city he will see will hopefully be King’s Landing. 

When he claimed his throne.

Interlude 2 - 

The Small council chamber

Cersei and Tyrion both were summoned to the small council chamber. 

The air was filled with tension. The room was silent as could be.

Tywin was already there.

“Ah. I had hoped to catch you,” Tyrion started towards Tywin, looking more relieved than anything. “Stannis’ fleet sailed down to the Stormlands. I fear that-”

“Stannis is the least of our problems right now.” Tywin said, his voice cold. “What we need is more allies.” 

He looked at Tyrion. “I need you to start negotiating with Dorne. If not to have them help us, at least to keep them out of the fighting. Having them declare for the Targaryens will be a disaster.”

“Baelish is already making preparations to head to the Eyrie, and I will personally head to Highgarden tomorrow.”

It was a bit much to take for both Tyrion and Cersei. Tywin sounded almost… panicked.

“The Tyrells are traitors. They support Renly, and he even married one of them-”

“Whatever Renly promised them, lands, titles, marriage to the king, we will make the better offer.” Tywin said immediately.

Cersei’s eyes flashed with hidden anger. It was clear that Tywin was willing to take her children and offer them as some marriage offerings to these traitors.

It made sense that to get the Vale on their side, the ‘logical’ move will be sending Myrcella to the Eyrie, to marry that sickly child of Lysa’s.

“Getting the Vale to join us is impossible. Lysa Arryn is mad and will listen to no-one. And I don’t think you will fare much better with the Reach-”

“We have to try. We have to do it. We will send for every single house in Westeros. We need every ally we can get.”

Now both Tyrion and Cersei were sure: There was something wrong. Neither have seen their father act that way.

It was just that neither knew how to ask.

Hesitation in her voice, Cersei was the one who asked. “What happened in the Riverlands?”

She wanted to know why Tywin was so eager to send her children away.

Silence. 

“Robb Stark wasn’t what I faced. That Targaryen girl was riding a dragon.”

It sounded so… hard. As if it was the hardest sentence he uttered in his life.

It was a funny joke, except… Tyrion’s eyes widened. His father never jested. Not once that he could remember, not at that moment, at least. He knew that his father was serious.

He had a dozen questions in the first moment, and a dozen more came to mind a moment later. Size, color, shape. Seeing a living Dragon was Tyrion’s dream since he was 5, or so he remembered.

Cersei’s mouth curled into a slight smile. She was about to laugh when she realized just who was speaking.

“A Dragon?” Her tone was filled with disbelief. “They all died.”

“That one didn’t. It came down from the sky and burned half of our men to ashes. You,” He looked at Tyrion, “You read a lot about dragons. I want you to give me everything you know. We need this thing down. Or better yet,” He looked to Cersei, “Robert’s claim to the Throne came from his grandmother, who was a Targaryen herself. He had Targaryen blood, meaning that his children also have it. We will try to kill the girl and have Joffrey take that beast.” 

His voice was absolute. There was no arguing with him. Tywin tried to get a Valyrian steel sword for house Lannister for all of his life. Getting a Dragon would be a thousand times that achievement. He would not waste the opportunity unless it seemed like it was impossible.

But it made sense. Tyrion never assumed anything could make his father panic, but… If there was something that could , a living, fire-breathing dragon was certainly it.

At that very moment, Tyrion and Cersei both understood one thing: The enemy they were fighting was one beyond their house’s current capabilities. They held Jaime captive. They had a Dragon . Seeing Tywin like that made them realize that it was a fight for survival.

And according to Tywin… they were losing.

“Well, about that…” Tyrion started. He knew fully well that none of the Children had a drop of Baratheon blood in them.

“From what I understand, the Golden Company has already departed Volantis?” The question was directed at Tyrion.

“Yes.” Tyrion said with a short nod.

“Kevan is headed to the Westerlands, to raise more men. When I’m gone, I want you to start negotiating with anyone who seems like they could ally with us. Any house that seems on the edge of loyalty. Even the Ironborn. They attacked the North. We have the same goals.”

Cersei scoffed at that. “The Ironborn ? You want us to ally with-”

“You will marry Balon Greyjoy for all I care. We need every man we can get.”

With that, Tywin walked out of the room.

Both Tyrion and Cersei stood there quietly. They always knew their father was a serious man, but they never heard him like that. As much as he tried to hide it… 

Tywin Lannister was desperate. 

Things are going awry. 

According to Tywin Lannister, the Targaryens have actual Dragons. 

Stop them from sailing for now. 

We need to rethink the plan.