A tale of fire and fire and fire and ice. Of love forged and love fated.
The heat of the south enveloped me in a welcoming embrace. I welcomed it upon my skin. I was so used to the heat of Dorne and here I felt welcomed. But a Martell in King's Landing is never a good thing. My brother Oberyn died here and my sister Elia as well. My being here would not bode well but I could not leave now.
I walked around the Red Keep with trepidation. My guards surrounding me protectively. The buildings were still blackened from the breath of my queen's dragons. Daenerys Targaryen came and banished the lion from the throne. I cheered from my throne in Dorne when the raven came. The Lannister's deserved as much.
It had been 10 years since the treaty with the whitewalkers and the fall of the Lannisters. I reminisced over the first time I met my dragon queen, she was not who she eventually became...
I sat upon my throne with Dragonsbane upon my lap. I gripped family's ancestral sword as the dragon queen strode into my throne room. Her unsullied and Tyrion Lannister folllowing. My face tightened minutely at the sight of him. My brother died for him and I would not forgive easily.
"Behold Princess Ashera Martell. First of her name. The Black Cobra and-" I waved a hand at my knight.
I tired quickly of names and titles. Why let your foe know whom you truly are? Why not show them?
"To what do I owe the pleasure, Daenerys," I drawled lazily. My fingers roamed Dragonsbane as her violet eyes wandered toward it.
I smiled as I remembered the tales my mother told me. How it was driven into the mouth of the dragon before it could breath its last fiery breath.
My eyes wandered over the woman as hers returned the favor. She was ethereal and unlike any other I had met. Just like her brother. I could tell that my attraction was returned. I curled a strand of raven hair as she devoured my visage. It was pleasing.
"I have come to negotiate a treaty with you. Winter has come and all of the seven kingdoms must unite against the Night King," she said with authority. My brows furrowed and all dirty thoughts were forgotten.
I had heard whispers of the white walkers coming again. I had heard of the white raven being sent out. Winter had surely come. I was loathe to extend a hand to the Targaryens but this was more important than old hate.
"You have it. My soldiers and I will fight against this Night King."
I stood and strode down the steps of my dais. Both of our soldiers tensed as I gripped my sword and sheathed it. A wry smile graced my lips as I extended my hand to the dragon queen.
Her beautiful face twisted in confusion as she returned the gesture. It smoothed into a soft smile as I caressed her pale hands. Our skin tones clashed against each other in a wonderful way.
"That is all? No arguments," Tyrion asked. I shook my head in mirth at the half man. He obviously didn't know me at all.
"Why argue when my fate hangs in the balance as well? Let us destroy these beings so I can go back to sitting on my ass." Tyrion and Daenerys chuckled tentatively with my men. "If you plan to go mad, dragon queen, do it after we win the war."
Her lips curled at my jest as she nodded, but my words held some sincerity. Her hot hand remained in mine and I lifted it to my lips. Red splashed over those pale cheeks. My grin grew.
"Such beauty should not be refused a kiss," I whispered against her skin. That red appeared again. I could see the desire leaking through her regal facade.
"As you wish, Princess Ashera," she said. Her eyes pierced my own with intensity and those pink lips caressed my name.
Daenerys Targaryen kept to her word like the queen she was. We made peace with the white walkers through the sacrifice of her own nephew, Jon Snow. The former king in the north himself became the new Night King in order to keep the threat away. Such a noble man.
Sansa Stark now sat as the warden of the north. The red wolf and her sister Arya Stark, the she wolf, remainded on Winterfell. I admired them greatly. Especially Sansa. I once wished to marry her and join our houses, but refrained of course. Something told me I had a different calling.. I was correct.
After I had returned back to Dorne, I received a raven from the queen herself. It had only been a few months since the victory against the walkers.
"Princess Ashera Martell, I would like to make a request if you that would be profitable for us both. I have thought hard and long over whom I should wed. I am barren and so I will bring forth no heirs. I wish to propose extend my hand in marriage to you and make you my queen. I have admired you from afar since our first meeting and you would make me a very happy woman, Princess Ashera. I hope that you will take my request to heart and think over it as long you see fit.
Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. First of her name. The Unb-"
I slammed my hand on the table, effectively silencing my Maester. I hated titles as much as I hated Targaryens and Lannisters. And I loathed them with a passion.
I had admired her beauty, of course, but my entire being railed against this proposal. She had the nerve to ask this if me after the history of our family, I mused angrily.
"I know that you are angry, Ashera. This is understandable..but..this may be a great chance," Maester Vasil said gently. I turned my furious gaze to him. "She seems sincere. You cannot blame one Targaryen for the bad of those before her."
I seethed at his wise words. I was blinded by hate and so I could not see clearly what a great chance I had before me. The chance to rule the Seven Kingdoms and counter the Targaryens madness if it was to show itself.
"Write her back. Tell her I must think," I said through gritted teeth. There were so many reasons to refuse, yet there were more reasons to accept.
As Vasil moved to gather writing utensils, I sat in deep thought. Who would I appoint to be sit on my throne if I did accept? Would the Seven Kingdoms take well to a female Martell marrying a female Targaryen? This would change the ways of the realm.
The forbiddeness of it enticed me to accept. My rebellious nature overtook any hate I held and I cursed it.
"Vasil. Write her my acceptance. Tell her to expect my arrival in a weeks time." My voice was uncharacteristically quiet as I sold my soul.
With each stroke of his quill my heart dropped further. The Black Cobra, to be tamed by a Silver Dragon in the Red Keep. In the city that killed my family.
"Appoint Elira Sand the Princess in my wake. I am retiring to my chambers," I said. Elira was a smart woman. She would take care of this place. My home.
"You lot run along. I wish to be alone," I ordered. My Queensguard were reluctant to leave my side. I sent them a stern look and finally left me to my memories.
The second time I met Daenerys Targaryen, I was not prepared.
My eyes ran over my bethrothed's wedding dress in awe. I had been unwilling at first but now I could not deny how lucky I was. The Gods favored me it seemed with my bride.
Daenerys's bright smile cracked my stone heart. She looked so genuinely happy. I had not known how deep her desires ran. I'd mistaken it as that of the sexual variety that I was accustom to. Never being one for relationships. But I had been so wrong.
"You look quite handsome, Ashera Targaryen," she said quietly. Her smile never wavered. My lips twitched at her jab as I looked over our people eating and drinking. Their laughter rang through in my ears.
"I will always be a Martell, Daenerys. This will always be true. Marriage or not," I said, grinning. My hand moved to hers under the table. The other bringing my wine to my lips.
Her hot hands caressed my own gently. I looked at her with hunger building. Her own eyes reflecting the same.
Despite my reluctance, I could not deny my attraction. Maybe I would grow to love my wife, my queen. It seemed she already admired me enough.
As she led me to our chambers, I vowed to love her like I had never loved anyone before. To make sure that the madness did not take over her like it had the many dragons before her.
As I lie her body down among the furs, my lips whispered sweet promises of devotion. She had told me of her last husband. How she saw him in me. I would not treat her with anything less than respect. It is not everyday that a beautiful woman admits her undying love for you. I decided that I would cherish her and make it my duty to love her back. Even if it took all of my strength.
My eyes closed as the memories took over. I had kept a part of my promise. I had loved Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. First of her name. The Mother of Dragons. The Unburnt. Khaleesi of the Grass Sea. I had loved her and all of her titles. I still love her. Even in her madness. I could not keep her from it.
When Rhaegal died in the in the fight against the white walkers, I saw the first cracks in Dany's sanity. We had not yet wed so I thought nothing of it.
A year into our marriage, she fed her handmaiden to Drogon and Viserion for smiling at me.
I had seen the possessiveness in her eyes flare, the madness. It only became worse when female guests came to have an audience with us over the years.
No matter how many times I assured her that I needn't look anywhere else, she refused to believe me. Dark circles grew under her eyes and insanity grew her violet eyes. The realm grew restless as Daenerys fed ladies of various houses to her dragons. Until Vesarion died as well, leaving only an egg in his wake.
Her madness grew in fury. I drew the line at Lady Sansa. My mad wife had finally gone too far and love could not save her this time.
"I want her head," she roared over and over from the ugly throne. Her dry lips cracked a smile as she saw me through the haze in her mind. I strode toward my wife with tears filling my eyes. This was the end. And so soon.
"My gorgeous wife comes forward. My sun and stars. All mine."
"Dany, my love, I am yours," I said for the millionth time in six years. My wife had succumb to the insanity in her blood and I was helpless to stop it. One hand caressed her face while the other gripped Dragonsbane. "I have loved you with the passion of a thousand suns."
The madness cleared for a moment at my words. Understanding welled in its place. Diamond tears flowed from her eyes and down those pale cheeks I had so often kissed.
"I know. I love you. I have always..loved you," she whispered. Her lips pressed against mine for last time and our tears melded together before we pulled away. "I forgive you."
My vision clouded with tears as I unsheathed my sword. I pressed the tip of it to her chest as I watched the madness take over once more. As she wailed for Sansa Stark's head, I found the strength to finally plunge it forth.
I caught her as she gasped and the life began leaving her eyes. Sobs racked my frame as she tried to speak.
"I..love.." I silenced her with a tearful kiss. I could not bare it.
"I will always love you and I will always..be yours."
She died with a smile on her bloody lips. I picked her body up and walked down the steps of the dais only to collapse. My screams brought the queensguard pouring into the room.
The horror on their faces made the pain intensify.
"My queen, my wife," I cried. Her lifeless body lie heavily in my arms as I wailed.
Those wails became roars of fury as I cursed the Gods. All of them had betrayed. At least I thought they had for a time.
Cold arms wrap around my waist and my melancholy mood falls. I turn as a smile graces my lips. Red hair and pale skin. Sansa Stark is everything I am not. Just as Daenerys was.
"Lost in your memories, I see." Her pink lips find my cheeks repeatedly making me blush.
"Yes of course. Our marriage was the best moment of my life," I lied smoothly. Some things are better kept to oneself.
Sansa was a free spirit that had found me in my time of need. Her love freed me from the horrors of grief and I would never be able to repay her. She was who I wanted first after all.
"No, the consumation was," she laughed heartily. I pressed my lips to hers with a smile.
Our lips danced like flames.
I had loved Daenerys Targaryen and lost her to madness. I had loved Sansa Stark for even longer and married her as well. After she died of old age, I sat on the iron throne alone. No one tried to rebel against and so I sat bored.
Until finally, I took my last breaths upon that ugly throne. In my will I left no word of an heir. Only to leave my sword and all other worldly possessions to Arya Stark of Winterfell. Warden of the North. With my possessions came dragons eggs. The last of what remained of Daenerys and myself.
They called me many names after my death but one stuck. Ashera the Just, whom only ever loved two women, and died the first to ever outlive the curse of the Iron Throne.
I was never one for titles but this one was much more tolerable than the others. It would do nicely.