Love is the Death of Duty

By

Phsyconic

The sky was a cold blue, the ocean a deep green. The wind was blowing in a restless manner, the sparse trees dancing in the swell. The gulls calls over head rang in her ears, and the salt burned her eyes as Daenerys of House Targaryen, first of her name, got closer and closer to the beginning of the end. Hours ago, Dragonstone had been a distant speck on the horizon, and her dream still felt a world away; now it consumed her, the very feeling of tangible success overwhelmed her senses. A flood of unbridled emotion washed over her; pain, relief, and anticipation all bundled together. Unshed tears welled in her eyes, but her face remained a mask; she would not break now, not when all her strength was needed to take the next step forward. Soon the moment would be upon her.

Soon.

And sooner still.

Grey Worm moved from the back of the row boat to help his queen disembark, but, with her back still turned to him, she motioned for him to stop. Daenerys would do this herself. Carefully, deliberately, she lifted one leg out of the boat and placed it in the frigid water below. The ocean rose barely to her ankle, and even though the water could not seep through her hide boots, she could feel how cold it was. One step. Two steps. A third, fourth, fifth and sixth followed, until the would-be Queen of Westeros stood on dry ground, surrounded by the eroded cliffs of her ancestral home. Where she had felt a myriad of emotions before, she acknowledged only one now; determination. She had fought for years for this, and she would not be stopped now. She turned her violet eyes to the pale blue sky, and saw her dragons tearing through the soft white clouds. Their shrieks raised the hairs of the queens landing party, but they had a different effect on their mother; Daenerys of the House Targaryen was home, and she was dead set on seeing her dream become a reality.

...

The Throne room was cold and reeked with the smell of the sea. The dark, uneven stone floor was encrusted with a thin layer of brine, and where some of the rock had been worn away unevenly, puddles of stagnant water lay undisturbed. Daenerys stood at the mouth of the room while her companions set about making the room more suitable. An unsullied walked past her with a torch, lighting each of the braziers on the wall, setting the rough hewn walls alight with a dancing orange glow. Missandei walked past her in as if in a trance, staring up at the high ceilings with a disturbed look on her face.

"This place has never been welcoming."

Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the Queen, strode in the room, taking it in as he walked.

"I don't need it to be welcoming," Daenerys spoke in a soft voice, as if not wanting to disturb her surroundings, "Our time here is temporary."

Tyrion turned and smiled at her, stretching the scar that spanned his face, his profile catching the dull orange light emitting from the torches.

"Does it feel like home?"

She knew that he knew the answer.

"No."

She carefully walked towards the throne. The pale blue light emitting from the window behind the throne cast an ethereal glow on the ancestral seat of her house. As she ascended the steps, the occupants of the room watched her with subdued breath; And as she sat upon the pale stone, all those who were there knew that she had been born for this moment, and other moments like it. All those who were there knew that she belonged on the Iron Throne.

Daenerys looked out over the Dothraki at the entrance of the room, the unsullied that stood on the steps, her hand who was slowly approaching her, and her closest advisor who was accompanying him. She looked out and saw memories and hardships that she had endured to make it this far. She saw the faces of those she had lost in the shadows of the room, and the faces of those that were still with her, staring up at her with a sort of reverence.

"Shall we begin?"

...

A great storm raged outside of the war room on Dragonstone, the wind and rain coming down unabated. Daenerys stood near the open windows, listening to the violent crash of the waves below her. Lightning split the horizon, and the deafening sound of thunder followed seconds after, drowning out the sounds of the waves, the rain, and the crackling fire that did little to ward off the chill that had taken hold of her.

"My Queen."

Varys's voice broke her trance, freeing her from the hypnotic movement of the dark turmoil below her. As she turned to face her Master of Whispers, the Eunuch thought that he had never beheld someone as imposing as she looked in that moment.

"What is it?", She asked, the edge in her voice a result of the conversation that they had shared moments before. "I hope your not here to tell me that you deem me an unfit ruler already?". There was humor in her voice, and a smile on her face, but her eyes were full of fire. The Bald man returned her insincere smile, and shook his head.

"You have a visitor," he said.

...

The Words of the Red Priestess still rang in Daenerys ear's as she sat in room that her hand had taken as his private residence. There was a fire dying in the hearth, and she had pulled herself into a tight ball in an effort to keep warm. Sitting next to her was Missandei, whilst Tyrion was perched upon his bed, a cup of wine in one hand, and the rest of the bottle in the other. Suddenly her hand broke out into laughter, chortling to the point where some of his wine sloshed out of his cup and onto his bed sheets, staining the white linens red.

"Oops," he said in a tone of voice that showed that he cared very little that he had spilled his wine.

"What's so funny?", Daenerys inquired, cocking her eyebrow at her inebriated companion. Tyrion turned towards her, a wide smile plastered on his features before he sighed and swallowed the rest of the wine in his cup.

"What Melisandre said," he paused for a moment, covering his mouth with his fist. "About Jon Snow. It truly is remarkable what time does for people. Last I saw him, he was four and ten, and still very much concerned with how the world thought of him. Now he's king!". He poured himself another cup and raised his glass to his lips, "perhaps I'll be king next."

Glancing over at his Queen, he saw a slight frown etched on her pale features. "I'm only joking of course," he continued, turning his attention back to his wine. Daenerys looked at him with amusement. "Your threat to my claim isn't what bothers me," she stated, and saw her Hand pull a sour expression, "Its Jon Snows. He has no right to his rule, yet he was chosen to be king by his people. He brought the wildlings south of the wall, and while I must admit that my knowledge of the north is limited, I understand that nobody likes wildlings." She paused, glancing at her companions. "What kind of man consorts with his people's enemy, and still garners their favor?"

She wouldn't admit it of course, but she had felt a burning curiosity to know more about her northern adversary since Melisandre had recommended that she bring him to Dragonstone. Everything about his rule, save that his father was the previous warden of the North, went against her understanding of Westerosi Culture.

Tyrion started at his cup, swirling the contents inside. "Jon is a man of honor. His father was a man of honor. The people of the north must see part of Ned Stark in his son, and it must be enough to make them overlook tradition. The people of the north are hard, hearty folk; they take their culture very seriously. For them to overlook his status as a bastard, and his acceptance of the wildlings," he paused, and his eyes met his Queens, "then he must have become quite the man."

Daenerys dropped her gaze from Tyrion's, and looked to the flames.

"Yes," she murmured, "Quite the man indeed."

Authors Note

Hello Everyone. I hope y'all enjoyed this first chapter. This is not only my first fanfiction that I've ever written, it is the first bit of creative writing that I have done in quite some time. Please excuse any grammatical mistakes that I may have made; I'm a bit rusty, and I'm sure the mistakes will be ironed out over time. Feedback is greatly appreciated! Please let me know what you guys think, and how I'm doing on my first ever fic.

Some things to know going forward in this story; I am making it up as I go. Like I said previously, this is my first time ever writing a fanfiction, and my first time writing a fictional story since High School. Please keep that in mind if I'm doing anything glaringly wrong, and let me know!