It has been sixteen years since the abomination that is the Dragon Queen has been vanquished from the face of Westeros. Sixteen years since the last time the Three Eyed-Raven managed to see beyond the Narrow Sea. He still remembers it, and sometimes he would look at it from the past. He did that now for a hundred times, even a thousand, he can't even remember the exact count, but no matter, he watched once more as a Red Priestess breath life to Daenerys Targaryen, the Mad King's daughter.

Where did I go wrong? He would ask everytime he looked back. How?

He watched now as she opened her eyes. It was always the same, she would open her eyes and it was angry flames of red he saw instead of her usual dark inidigo eyes and then comes a blinding light, so bright that it washed everything in white, the temple where the dragon brought its mother, the Priestess and the Queen herself disappears from his sight. When he opened his eyes, Bran's eyes, it will take him a whole five minutes to see normally again, to recover himself from temporary blindness. It frustrates him. It still frustrates him now. Especially now when all of Essos, her new empire, is beyond his ability to See. Oh, that wasn't right. He can still use his magic, but it was weakened, somewhat hindered and all he can see was white light, as if something or someone was blocking him, making him blind, making a fool out of him.

"Your Grace," a voice from his side called his attention.

"Yes?" he answered.

"It is time for the meeting of the small council," Samwell Tarly said.

He merely nodded.

Xxxxxxxxxxx

"The Dragon Queen and her bastard..." King Bran inquired to his Master of Whisperers as he often does everytime the council where about to adjourn.

Lord Aron Mathis, the only foreign man in the room shifts uncomfortably on his chair. He was a Braavosi politician and a poor one at that, but it was his friend, a former envoy from the Iron Banks of Braavos who recommended him to the new monarch of Westeros. After all the years of serving the realm he still can't believe himself that he would be a part of such a high position in a foreign country while in Braavos his decisions and failures at ruling even his own household was a laughing stock among the citizens of the free city both high and low.

He cleared his throat and did his best to look at the glassy eyed stare of the young man who's not quite a man at all and answered truthfully.

"I-It has become a great hardship for me to hear whispers on the East, Your Grace," he stammered then bowed his head to avoid looking at the dead eyes of the man he serves. "But the last message the handful of my spies had sent says that there's nothing out of ordinary happening inside the walls of the Queen's pyramid in Meereen."

He chanced to look up and he immediately regrets it. The King's eyes are still on him, unblinking and devoid of emotion. An awkward silence envelopes the room as all of them awaits the King to say anything.

"Thank you for your report Lord Aron, or should I say the lack of it?" The King finally speaks.

He felt his heart skip a couple of beats. Will this be the last time I will have a head? He asks himself everytime he failed to give valuable information about the Dragon Queen.

But it wasn't my fault! Oh, how he would like to shout that at the top of his lungs.

It was the King himself and his sweet sister, the Queen in the North who made it almost impossible for him to communicate with his spies. Those assasins they sent from time to time to end the Dragon Queen's bastard daughter's life causes her to pass a royal decree banning any interaction between Essos and Westeros. That decree did not only made it harder to gather news about the Dragon Queen but it also caused great decline on the realm's economy especially when the realm was still trying to rebuild itself little by little from the previous war and with the winter upon them, the provisions from Essos was a necessity. Even the Red Keep's construction had been delayed for three years before finally resuming when the Dragon Queen took pity on them and let Westerosi merchants enter the ports of Dragon's Bay and the Free Cities, but only at the ports, it is still strictly prohibited for Westerosi to enter any city in Essos. Those who would disobey the law the Dragon Queen made would find themselves losing a head or worse, be turned into a pile of ashes.

"My King, although it is true that Essos had become more lenient to Westerosi merchants it is still hard for me and my birds to exhange messages. I ordered them, the small remaining ones who would reply to me anyway, to minimize our interactions for their own safety. It wouldn't be wise for me to risk the few of them to the Dragon Queen."

An excuse. He knows it, the King knows it. But the truth nonetheless.

The King finally blinks his eyes and nodded, Lord Aron forces himself not to look too relieved.

"What about Braavos?"

No. No, he wasn't safe at all afterall. The relief he felt vanished instantly in a matter of seconds.

"Y-Your Grace?"

"The Dragon Queen's bastard daughter conquered it and now the mother holds a high position in its government, am I right?"

"Yes, Your Grace," Lord Aron replied and brushed a sweat from his brows before continuing.

"The few friends I had in Braavos who had respectable position in the Braavosi government did not want to involve themselves in the troubles of the crown, so it was harder for me to know certain things. But my brother often send me letters whenever valuable news comes up." He said and forces himself once more to look directly in the eyes of the King. Conveying him what his words failed him. It's not my fault!

The King sighed, a small barely audible one, before nodding at him and shifts his attention to his Hand.

"Lord Tyrion, this bastard, how many cities did she conquered already?"

Lord Aron felt a pang of disappointment and jealousy, he was the one who fed the King those informations! If the King wanted to know, he should have asked him and not the half man he calls Hand.

"The Princess Missandei--"

Lord Aron heard a snort beside him. It was from the Master of the Ships, the Bastard of Driftmark.

"A Princess named after a slave," Aurane Waters said with a smirk. He's comely, Lord Aron admits. He has the looks of Old Valyria in him too, like the Targaryens, albeit a small drop, but still there on his fair hair and complexion.

"Yes," Lord Tyrion says with a hint of irritation in his voice for being interrupted, but there are moments that Lord Aron oft thinks that Lord Tyrion looks offended and a little hurt everytime someone insulted the Princess. No, the Princess' name. It made him wonder of the Lord Hand's relationship with the former slave where the the Princess was named after, where they friends? After all, the first Missandei and Lord Tyrion both served the Dragon Queen.

"The Princess was ten when she brought Qarth to heel," Lord Tyrion continued his report. "One and ten when she managed to instigate a revolt in Volantis, freeing the slaves and dragging Volantis to the folds of her mother's empire, and on the same year, Lys bended to her as well, the other Free Cities followed. Tyrosh and Pentos, although uniting against the Empire of New Valyria, the Princess with the help of her mother's Dothraki horde, Unsullied and the army of freed slaves manages to defeat both the cities in a battle that lasted only for a day. Braavos is the last of her...accomplishments. She was but ten and three when the Bastard Daughter of Old Valyria submits to the Dragon Queen's rule."

Everyone remained silent for a while. All of them were probably thinking the same thing.

It was already troublesome for the realm when the Dragon Queen was just holding the Dragon's Bay and the Dothraki Sea as her kingdom when she passed her decree, it was proven more than a minor annoyance and more of a crisis when the bastard Princess conquered the Free Cities as well. Although the Free Cities indeed was not a part of the Dragon Queen's domain when she passed her decree, her words still hold some weight on their government. After all, her ruthlessness had been a common knowledge throughout the known world and to avoid rousing the anger of the 'Last Dragon', the other Free Cities had no choice but to accept her laws. It is indeed true that some cities still trade with Westeros but only if the transactions remained hidden. The merchants of Westeros became smugglers on those perilous times, until the Queen had became more lenient and generous on them. If the Dragon Queen even extends her decree for a year or more all of them would have died in starvation, not to mention the North whose domain was basically a wasteland in winter. Lord Aron knew what message the Dragon Queen was trying to convey; You all live by my mercy.

It was Lord Bronn who first breaks the silence in which Lord Aron was grateful. Lord Bronn and Lord Aurane, the life of the small council. If it wasn't the bastard, it was the other Lord, the former sellsword who would be the one to release the tension. But he was wrong to feel grateful after hearing what Lord Bronn had to say.

The Master of Coins whistled.

"That was one feisty little dragon. If the Mad Queen had her before when she decided to conquer Westeros, well..." He left that statement hanging.

Sometimes. Sometimes, he felt that the Master of Coins had a secret death wish.

"You dare speak of treason in front of your King?" the Lady Knight, Ser Brienne almost growled at the Master of Coins.

The sellsword Lord has the gall to pretend flabbergasted by the Lady Commander's accusations.

"Forgive me my Lady," Lord Bronn said.

Lord Aron noticed how Bronn stresses the word "lady" before turning to the King, stealing Ser Brienne's opportunity to scold him for calling her that.

"Your Grace, I did not mean to give offence. I merely stated the possibilities, but that is a moot point isn't my dear friends? My King? Westeros is yours." He looked at the King with his false remorse painted all over his face.

"You--" the Lady Commander's face was all red and Lord Aron could have sworn her hand twitched as if wanting to draw her sword right then and there.

It was the fat Grandmaester who caught all their attention.

"My Lords...uhm...Ser," Samwell Tarly said hesitantly.

"I believe, i-it is hardly the time for fighting." He stammered like he always do. "The Mad Queen and her daughter remains a threat to Westeros. How long do you think will the both of them grew bored in conquering the cities in Essos?"

"The problem is not when they'll grew bored, Grandmaester. They already conquered Essos, it's about when will the Dragon Queen decides to come back and take what she think was hers?" said Lord Tyrion.

On that, none of them has answers.

It was the King who broke the silence with another query.

"How many dragons did she have now?"

Lord Aron saw his opportunity to ingratiate himself once more to the King, he rushed to answer his question like a drowning man grabbing a floating wood.

"Last we know, Your Grace, the Mad Queen manages to acquire seven dragon eggs. We knew that four hatched almost ten years ago, but then all of Essos was locked down from Westeros on that year, so we can never be sure how many hatched that same year." He said with absolute confidence. That particular information was the most that made him feel proud, that and the birth of the Princess. Those were the times when his power as Master of Whisperers was at its peak.

"But, my spies managed to whisper to me, as you might remember last month, that all the dragon eggs hatched after all and now a full grown dragons." He finished his report with a grave voice.

The Last Dragon finally takes back her title; The Mother of Dragons.

You only live by my mercy. The message rang to Lord Aron's head once more.

"So, counting the one dragon the Queen has when she...left Westeros, she has, what eight dragons now?" Lord Bronn asks with a smirk while picking his fingernails with his knife. As if the Dragon Queen would spare him if she noticed how clean his hands are.

"Nine, my Lord. It seems you've forgotten our little dragon?" Lord Aurane added.

Yes, the bastard Princess. How could he not forget the deformity the Mad Queen has brought in to this world?

"They say she bear wings twice her size, and a tail to match it too. And scales covering almost entirely her body." Lord Aurane continued.

"Lies," Lord Aron said, turning his body towards the young lord. "My spies had said that she only has wings, and yes it was twice as big as her, but there are no visible tail whatsoever," Lord Aron explained patiently.

"Either that or she hides it well by shoving it up her ass." Lord Bronn said with a hint of boredom in his voice.

Lord Aurane laughed with mirth.

"Your lack of manners and crudeness knows no bounds," Ser Brienne said and then snatched the knife Lord Bronn was using to clean his fingers and toss it on the table. It did a circular motion before the sharp end of it ended in front of him. Pointing at him.

"I. Was. Not. Finished. Cleaning. Yet." The Master of Coins growled slowly at the knight.

Lord Aron coughed to get their attention once more. Some times he really thought that the council consists of bickering children, this was one of those times. How he missed that old man, the former Master of Ships. Lord Aron sighed, it won't do to miss the dead, the former Master of Ships and him are not friends in anyway, in fact they are almost always at opposite sides when it comes to their beliefs, but atleast, Lord Davos is a man of honor, truth and maturity. What would he do to trade half the council for that man.

Lord Aron turned back to the young Master of Ships. "And my Lord, the scales you are telling us are for the stone men. I was pretty sure Princess Missandei is not afflicted with greyscale." He said kindly, trying to smile to the young Lord who just shrugged at him a smirk visible on his face, probably still laughing at Lord Bronn's statement earlier.

"It does not matter. I can't see. I can't see her or the mother," the King stated with no emotion distracting them from the amusement they felt on Lord Bronn's jape. "I can't see what they are doing or what they will do."

The King then shifted his attention to him once more. The warmth he felt very briefly vanished, it was then replaced by coldness. Coldness he associated with death.

"I've made you Master of Whisperers to be my eyes and ears in Essos," King Bran said with those glassy eyes staring at him, boring right through his skull and that voice. That cold voice. "Don't fail me Lord Aron. For your own sake."

Note:

I just want to clarify things. First, this fic is not pro-Stark. I'm still pretty peeved by all of them with the exception of Arya coz she's my best girl next to Dany and I can pretty much forgive her of any crimes she committed. I have a little bit of annoyance towards Jon though, because he got himself manipulated in some way. But I understand his point (some of it), that he's just confused and all that (my poor baby), so I want to show his regret and guilt first before I would go easy on him. So, yah, fuck Bran and Sansa. And Jonerys scenes would be a looooooooong way coming. This fic would focus on their daughter though, but she would have limited POVs and the story would circulate on the people around her and what they think of her. I was thinking of writing a fic about her adventures and her conquering but that would be after I finished this fic.