This started out as me merely writing the Battle of Winterfell out with proper military tactics and ended up growing into a big project. I was highly disappointed with the final season and opted to write my own version of it.
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"Are you so certain that the Northern Lords will accept me?" Daenerys Targaryen worried about this during the entire travel and even more so as they approached Winterfell.
"If they see an army of men you've brought to help against the Army of the Dead, yes." Jon Snow squeezed her hand reassuringly as they rode their horses in the front of their procession. "The North remembers."
"Yes, they remember my father burning your grandfather and uncle alive." Daenerys offered as a counterpoint. "They remember my brother kidnapping your aunt. I've brought an army into their home…"
"To save us all." Jon interjected. He leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "You won me over. It'll take time, but they'll realize you're a different kind of leader than what came before." Daenerys wasn't completely reassured but accepted his words.
Drogon and Rheagal roared above them, circling the 40,000 Dothraki and 5,000 Unsullied marching along the Kingsroad. It had been a long, difficult journey to travel to Winterfell, taking more than a month.
He had sent letters to his sister Sansa and all the major Northern Houses informing them of their arrival. He had yet to reveal that he bent the knee to the woman he loved, however.
"We must all stay united, or else we're going to be slaughtered." Jon pointed out. "Once the Lannisters and the others join this fight, I believe we will be able to triumph."
"Are you so certain that Cersei will keep her word?" Daenerys warned. "I could have burned down the Red Keep without resistance if I chose to. She would have said anything to save her own skin."
"I hate Cersei no less than you do, but she's no fool." Jon argued. The fact there had been no news of Lannister forces traveling northward concerned him. He hadn't expected Cersei to move right away and certainly not to send all her forces. This was only a temporary alliance, after all.
Could she be mad enough? Jon reassured Daenerys when the question came up but was far from certain of it himself.
With Winterfell in the distance, visible fortifications had been made to strengthen their defenses. Smallfolk were out in the snow, digging trenches and preparing spikes to hinder the incoming enemy. "Good to see my sister hasn't been idle." Jon remarked.
The dragons circled Winterfell, their roars heard through the entire courtyard. Despite coming as allies, Daenerys was insistent on doing so from a position of strength.
The Smallfolk stopped what they were doing and glared at the Dothraki and Unsullied suspiciously. No one dared to say a word, for fear of sparking a violent incident, but the distrust was there nonetheless.
And no one was more acutely aware of this than Daenerys. She felt each glare of the common folk burn on her skin. They were a hard people and distrustful of outsiders.
Close to the castle, more than a dozen ballista of various sizes were visible. More doubtless covered the back walls. "None of them are very welcoming." Daenerys worried.
"Everyone here is frightened of what's coming, including myself." Jon confessed. Deciding to share parts of his past, he added: "They didn't care for me either not long ago. I was just Ned Stark's bastard." Now he wished he was nothing more than that. "They made their derision and distrust of me clear. Now I'm King in the North… or was." He shared a brief kiss with Daenerys.
Every soldier and member of the Free Folk capable of holding a weapon stood perched on the walls. Some were those too old or young for war, people Jon would never have allowed in combat under normal circumstances.
The gates opened, allowing Daenerys' forces to enter inside. "Just please try to be polite to my sister." Jon whispered privately. He debated whether to show any physical affection to her, though decided against it. "She's a lot like you, you know. Sansa's been through a lot to get where she is."
Those inside the castle walls were even more terrified than those outside. The dragons screeching caused a few of them to run away. Daenerys could not help but smirk at that. They saw the power of her dragons with their own eyes.
Waiting at the front were Sansa, Bran, and their household guard. "Where's your other sister?" Daenerys inquired.
"Lurking around the castle, no doubt." Jon laughed, a rare thing in these times. "Good to know some things at least don't change."
Daenerys dismounted first, she and Sansa sizing each other up. Grey Worm and Jorah moved behind her, hands inches away from their swords. Jon moved between them, wanting to keep the peace. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Tyrion and Varys climbing out of their carriage.
Jon moved towards his brother, hardly daring to believe he was alive, let alone nearly a grown man. When he departed for Castle Black, no one knew if he would ever wake up. "Bran, it's truly you." He laughed, hugging him tightly. "Last I remember, you were a small boy. Now you're a man."
"Almost, at any rate." Bran's eyes scanned the courtyard, looking over the Dothraki and Unsullied.
"Sansa, it's good to see you as well." Jon hugged her as well. Their relationship was unlike the cold one the two of them had during their childhoods. Far too much had happened since.
"I'm grateful you had a safe journey." Sansa smiled. Politely to Daenerys but genuinely to Jon. She was no longer the terrified young woman he knew years ago. Sansa was now a woman of steel.
"Where's Arya?" Jon questioned. "I expected her to be there." Arya had been the sibling closest to him, even closer than Robb was.
"She decided to explore the castle." Sansa had no idea what her younger sister was up to.
"This is Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen." Jon gave her a loving glance that did not escape the notice of his sisters. "My Queen, this is my sister, Sansa Stark."
"It's an honor to meet you at last." Daenerys acknowledged politely. "Your brother has always spoken highly of you."
"Winterfell is yours, Your Grace." Sansa's dislike was clear but she was all courtesy.
"Thank you for inviting us into your home, Lady Stark." Daenerys nodded in acknowledgement. "As you can see, I have brought my forces to Winterfell to face our common enemy."
"You have my deepest thanks for your assistance." This statement was more appreciative on Sansa's point. "I'm sure you're weary from your long journey."
"The Night King has your dragon." Bran warned. "He's one of them now."
Daenerys forced herself to stay stoic, not wanting to break down in public hearing her child had been turned into their enemy's servant. Everyone else exchanged looks of horror.
Bran regained their attention by warning: "The Wall has fallen. We need to prepare immediately."
"What… how…" Jon sputtered, knowing that left them with little time to prepare. He knew the Night King could freeze the surrounding ocean, allowing him to move around the wall, but that would have taken months.
"No time." Bran shook his head. "We must deal with the situation as it stands." His eyes went black, the Three-Eyed-Raven searching for the Night King.
Jon interrupted the tense standoff between Sansa and Daenerys warning: "We've got some new developments. We need to retreat to the Great Keep."
"As you wish, Lord Stark." Sansa bowed her head. "Your Grace, if you would please follow us. I will have my men find decent accommodations for your forces."
"You are most kind, Lady Stark." Daenerys wanted to argue further but know Jon would not have interrupted them had it not been serious.
Northmen, Unsullied, and Dothraki escorted Daenerys and her advisors into the keep, one insult away from drawing weapons. Many of Jon's bannermen looked at him with great unhappiness, not trusting the Targaryen Queen.
Sansa took her place on the throne, with Jon standing by her side. The Northern Lords stood at one side of the room, Daenerys' allies on the other. Jon could not help but be concerned. We needed allies. He justified. We can't hope to triumph against the Night King without her.
"Thank you for your hospitality, Lady Stark." Tyrion spoke up, attempting to relieve the tension. "We're happy to help you in your time of need. I must say, you've grown into a beautiful woman. It doesn't seem that long ago you were still a girl."
"A lot has happened since then." Sansa replied stonily.
"The Wall has fallen and the dead are marching South." Bran announced to the assembled Lords. "He has one of the dragons alongside him."
A torrent of fear echoed through the room. Facing wights and undead animals was bad enough. Having a dragon on his side made the Night King far more dangerous.
"I have already sent ravens to every castle north of Winterfell, ordering them to evacuate and take shelter here." Sansa declared. "We need everyone we can find to face this threat."
"Will our food last long enough, My Lady?" Maege Mormont worried. "We already have twice the number of people inside Winterfell as we had in previous winters and now the Dragon Queen has brought additional men."
"It's not going to be easy." Sansa confessed. "Times are always difficult during winter and this promises to be the worst in generations. But we will endure as we always have."
"We brought some of our own supplies." Tyrion pointed out. "Granted, some of it was eaten along the way, but it should be a useful addition to your reserves."
"We've got more important concerns: what is that damned Dragon Queen doing here?" Robett Glover demanded. "The daughter of the Mad King within our walls!"
"We can't worry about titles and old rivalries right now!" Jon insisted, choosing his words carefully. "Do you think it matters to the Night King who sits on the Iron Throne or what we think of each other? It's all the same to him."
"We chose you as King in the North and you allowed our enemy inside Winterfell!" Glover wasn't about to be deterred so easily.
"What are you now?" Lyanna Mormont asked. "There's only one reason you would bring Daenerys Targaryen here: you bent the knee to her."
"Aye, I did." Jon confessed. "Just as Torren Stark bent the knee to Aegon during the Conquest." Shouts of horror and numerous insults came from the Northern Lords.
"A Mad Queen within our walls!" "Traitor!" Bastard!" Those were the minor insults.
"I had to choose between holding my throne and the lives of everyone in the North!" Jon shouted over them. "I chose the North! Unlike the rest of you, I have faced the dead. Twice and I only just escaped with my life. I would be dead today if not for our queen standing beside me. If not for her, we would not have brought proof to the south of the Night King's existence. We would have continued slaughtering each other while the Great Enemy overwhelmed us."
"I am well aware that you consider our presence to be a great sin." Tyrion claimed. "After all, Daenerys Targaryen's father is known as the Mad King for a damned good reason. And I am the Imp, the whoremonger, a Lannister, the man who stopped Stannis Baratheon from taking the Iron Throne. We have ample reason to despise one another. But Daenerys is not her father. She put a halt to her war against Cersei Lannister to fight our war against the Dead."
Davos spoke up for the first time. "We don't need to love one another. Or even respect one another. But we have a choice. We can either stand together or we can die separately."
"I, for one, am grateful for the presence of the Dragon Queen." Sansa spoke up. "All of you should remember what my brother has sacrificed in the name of protecting the North. He freed our land from House Bolton when many of you chose to follow the likes of Ramsey. Now we face a far more terrible enemy."
"Once Cersei brings her forces North, we'll have a fighting chance." Tyrion announced. "Bran… you're the Three-Eyed-Raven, correct? How long to we have before the Night King arrives?"
"I cannot say for sure." Bran sighed reluctantly. "The Wall is breached, with more than 100,000 dead men following him, along with many beasts he has transformed. I believe he will want to build his forces before attacking us."
"Evacuating to Winterfell is the top priority." Sansa announced. "The Last Hearth is directly in the path of the dead. There's been no word from them." The realization that the Umbers were likely dead silenced their quarrels, at least for a moment.
"Tens of thousands of Dothraki, thousands of Unsullied, countless northmen and wildings." Tyrion assessed the allied forces. "We can't forget two full-grown dragons. Once my sister's forces join us, I have every confidence that we will weather this storm."
"I've seen no indication that the Lannister forces have arrived." Sansa pointed out. "Those fortifying themselves on the Neck have sent no news of them. I think there's only one conclusion we can draw from that. Your sister lied to you."
"She'd better pray her forces arrive soon." Daenerys warned. "If she decides to let us fend for ourselves, that is a betrayal that I will repay a thousand-fold." Those were the first words from her mouth the Northerners cheered.
They argued long into the night about numbers and strategy, at times coming close to blows. But it was a beginning.
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"I hope you understand that you've just signed our death warrants with this action." Ser Addam Marbrand warned Jaime Lannister. He was one of eight hundred Lannister forces and Gold Cloaks who chose to defy Cersei and travel north.
"We're all dead if we don't stand together." Jaime rebuked, wrapping the coat tightly around him. Even in summer, the northern climate was inhospitable. Now that winter was here, it was nearly unbearable.
If at least a few of us don't show up and the living win, we're going to be slaughtered. Jaime worried. Regardless of what happened, he was a dead man and he knew it. He decided to die doing the honorable thing for one of the few times in his life.
Eight hundred was far more than he had expected. Just because his sister had not been able to bring herself to kill him did not mean others could expect the same mercy.
"We'll arrive at Winterfell in a few days so long as the weather remains clear." Marbrand declared. The Kingsroad allowed for much faster travel than was otherwise possible. "But what are they going to do to us once we arrive? I don't believe either the North or the dragon girl has forgotten your father's actions… or yours."
"I know the risk, as did you when you chose to follow me." Jaime pointed out. Their food supplies were running low, as there was little they could take and still escape Cersei's notice. "They certainly know we're here and we haven't faced any ambushes, so there's reason for hope."
"Good; means they're waiting until after we beat this 'Night King' before they kill us all." Marbrand snarked. Jaime looked behind them, hoping no one else could overhear their conversation.
"I gave my word that I would fight alongside the living." Jaime intended to live up to it. "Any of the others are free to leave at any time. I won't judge them for it." Empty words and both men knew it. Cersei would have them killed if they turned back, meaning that traveling to Winterfell was their only option.
"We all stand with you, Lord Lannister." Marbrand promised. "I expect we'll resume fighting once all this is over, but let's make sure there is a future before we start planning for it."
I just pray this gesture convinces the Targaryen not to slaughter us. Jaime worried. He'd faced her dragons in the field and knew it was hopeless to fight against them. Her largest dragon was the size of Sunfyre from the Dance of the Dragons and the other two weren't much smaller. Their scorpions were mostly destroyed before they were used. Only one bolt hit the dragon and it didn't wound him seriously enough to stop him.
What Jaime had surrounding him was not an army. He merely hoped it would be enough to convince the dragon queen to show mercy and not murder everyone in King's Landing. "Saved them once and now I'm about to do it a second time." Jaime laughed derisively. Marbrand looked at him, but Jaime did not elaborate.
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"Have you lost your mind?! You bent the knee to her?!" Sansa screamed. Just because she wasn't willing to criticize her brother in public didn't mean he was going to be let off the hook. "She's the daughter of the Mad Queen! We made you King in the North and give our kingdom up!"
"I didn't have a choice if I wanted to see any of us survive this." Jon protested, hands in the air. "The Night King has breached the Wall, meaning we have little time to spare. The Last Hearth is likely doomed, even with the horses and carts we're sending. It was bend the knee or die."
"You're just like our father." Sansa meant it as a mixed compliment. "You're too much like our father. Ned Stark was honorable, brave, and did the right thing no matter what. He died for it. I'm not about to let the same thing happen to you."
"Without her, we don't stand a chance." Jon insisted. "Now we have the greatest army in the world and two dragons fighting alongside her. I've spent much more time with her than you have. She isn't her father."
"That remains to be seen." Sansa wasn't convinced. Unlike Jon, she hadn't overlooked Daenerys' threat. "You still gave up your crown. Did you stop to consider how your bannerman would react, bending the knee to her? Lord Glover has decided to wait out the storm in Deepwood Motte. Other lords are close to following his example. It's difficult enough keeping everyone from each other's throats without foreign warriors inside Winterfell."
"Under other circumstances, I might agree with you." Jon sighed. "I've never wanted this crown. You forced it upon me. My only concern is protecting the North."
"As is mine… from any enemy, dead or alive." Sansa looked at her half-brother with eyes of steel.
"The Targaryens aren't our enemy, not anymore." Jon insisted. "She'll be a good queen, a leader the Seven Kingdoms haven't had for generations."
"Tell me: what convinced you of that?" Sansa spoke slowly. "Was it her deeds… or her pussy?"
Jon sputtered and gasped, having never heard such a word from his sister before. "What?! Where did that…"
"I know it's not how a proper lady is expected to speak." Sansa's voice was full of cold fury. "A proper lady is supposed to conduct herself with courtesy at all time. And a proper lady is supposed to be treated with respect and protection. Being a proper lady didn't stop Joffrey from beating me whenever he pleased. It didn't protect me from being forced to look at our father's head. It didn't stop Ramsey from doing what he pleased every night, nor Lord Baelish from selling me to him. I've endured far worse than foul language, Jon."
Despite himself, Jon started laughing. "If only your younger self heard you say that…"
"My younger self is dead. She's never coming back. I will never allow myself or the people I love to suffer again. Our family was slaughtered by those who didn't care about honor. Answer my question. Was it her deeds or her body that convinced you?"
"She convinced me when she was willing to hear me out about the Army of the Dead." Jon all but pleaded with his sister to accept Daenerys. "Most of our dragonglass comes from her. She abandoned her war to help us! And yes, I love her. It's the first time I've loved since…" Ygritte's memory was still painful for him.
"I know I'm being harsh, Jon." Sansa softened her approach. "And I am grateful for what she's doing for us. I just worry about what's going to happen afterwards. Cersei isn't coming, which makes this fight far more difficult. You're worried about how we're going to survive. I'm worried about what happens afterwards."
"I wish we were still children." Jon turned away from her, his hands gripping the chair. "I used to hate being a bastard. Now I wish that's all I was, rather than King in the North. And that you were still the naïve, snobbish girl I remember."
"We can't go back to how things used to be." Sansa grabbed his hand. "But we're together again. We're still here. The lone wolf dies but the pack survives."
"I haven't forgotten." Jon embraced Sansa, holding her for nearly thirty seconds before letting her go. "Just promise me you'll be civil with Daenerys, okay?"
"I know we're all in this together." Sansa agreed. "Just be careful. And see if you can find Arya. She's been looking for you."
"Thanks, little sis." Jon gave her a second hug before departing.
Arya was waiting in the Godswood. She stood next to the heart tree, staring at Jon impassively. That is, until she leapt into his air, a familiar routine for them during their childhood.
"Together again, just like old times." Jon laughed.
"Is it really you?" Arya looked him over carefully, as if hardly daring to believe it.
"Aye, it's me." Jon gripped her shoulders. "And I see you still have needle. Have you ever used it?"
"More times than I care to count." Arya admitted, unsheathing her sword. Jon could still see faint blood stains upon it.
"I'm sorry about that." Jon lowered his eyes in shame. "I should have…"
"Don't be." Arya cut him off. "There were people who needed to die and I made sure that they did. I wouldn't change anything… well, except not seeing you for years."
"Hard to believe how you've grown." Jon smiled down at her.
"I see you've got a Valyrian Steel sword." Arya looked his weapon over.
"Do you plan on borrowing it, the way you kept trying to steal our weapons back when we were children?" Jon teased her. "The way Lady Catelyn screamed each time you were caught. Not that it ever deterred you."
"Nor you when you handed the swords to me." Arya added. "It's too heavy for me. I'm happy with the weapon I have." Her voice turning serious, she added: "Sansa doesn't like the Dragon Queen, does she?"
"I didn't expect we'd get along right away." Jon admitted. "There's a lot of history between us."
"She doesn't seem that bad to me." Arya admitted. "I've always wondered what it would be like to ride a dragon."
"Sansa's just defending us. She'll warm up to Daenerys in time."
"She deserves a chance to prove herself. Fact she's here when Cersei betrayed us says something." Arya made it clear she would watch Daenerys closely. "And you love her. I'll give her a chance on that alone."
"Thanks, Arya. Whatever else happens, it's wonderful to see you again." Jon felt the burden on his heart lift.
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Cersei Lannister watched her forces train over the red keep, drinking her third wine glass of the day. Unconsciously, she rubbed her belly, feeling the child grow within her.
All things considered, it was fortunate that Daenerys Targaryen chose to fight her war against the dead when she did. King's Landing had only a dozen scorpions to face three dragons. Now they had constructed over one hundred all across the city walls.
Qyburn interrupted her thoughts, bowing his head. "Your Grace, I bring terrible news. The Dead have breached the Wall and are marching throughout the North."
"That will ensure our enemies have nothing left to fight with." Cersei smiled. Her enemies and the Dead would destroy each other, leaving her on the Iron Throne.
"Your Grace, if I may speak…" Qyburn asked hesitantly.
"Of course." Cersei nodded. The old man was only of the only people surrounding her that had any competence. She knew it was no exaggeration to say she wouldn't be queen if not for him.
"I took the liberty in obtaining dragonglass in case the worst happened." Qyburn explained. "Our smiths are shaping it into weapons and production of wildfire is going swimmingly."
"Thank you, Qyburn. I trust wildfire can be used on the remnants of the Starks and Targaryens as well." Cersei swirled the glass of wine around, overjoyed that her plans were finally coming together.
"Your Grace, I have also brought over weapons experts from the Free Cities. They have a new design I believe is of great interest." Qyburn smiled, his eyes lighting up with curiosity.
He approached Cersei, the only man the reanimated Gregor Clegane allowed near her without a threat. "They're called bombards, Your Grace. They use something new, which the Free Cities refer to as Gunpowder. Such weapons are dangerous to yield but I believe they have much potential. The Free Cities and the surrounding towns and villages around them are implementing them. They've proven effective against Dothraki raids."
"Excellent." Cersei grinned. "Why have we never experimented with them before?"
"Regretfully, Your Grace, the Maesters had no interest in expanding their knowledge. Merely in preserving what already exists. The Free Cities have no such restrictions."
"So we have weapons to face the Dead if they arrive and new designs to slaughter our living enemies if they win?" Cersei summarized. No matter which of her enemies survived the coming fight, she would emerge victorious.
"Yes, Your Grace. The Iron Fleet has been equipped with Scorpions as well. And the Golden Company awaits you in the Throne Room."
Cersei was eager to meet the sellswords pledging themselves to her cause. Unlike most other mercenary companies, the Golden Company were trustworthy. We're going to need them when the time comes. Most Lannister forces had already been killed by the Starks, Tullys, and Targaryens.
She walked into the Iron Throne, hands behind her back. Waiting for her were Euron Greyjoy and the Commander of the Golden Company.
"The Crown appreciates the effort you have taken to arrive." Cersei greeted them. "Twenty thousand men, correct?"
"Almost, Your Grace." Commander Harry Strickland corrected. "A few died of illness on the way. A few more were…"
"They cheated at dice." Euron Greyjoy defended mockingly. "Or I cheated. I don't remember, but in any case, we're better off without them. If they couldn't beat me four against one, they aren't worth the money you spend on them."
Strickland scowled at Euron but said nothing. "We look forward to fighting on your behalf, Your Grace."
"I'd like to see the elephants." Cersei wanted to see the most notorious beasts the Golden Company possessed.
"No elephants, Your Grace." Strickland shook his head. "I apologize, but such beasts are unsuited for long sea voyages."
"Disappointing but no matter." Cersei sighed. Perhaps she'd be able to see them for herself when the war was over. "I trust you brought along the dragonglass I asked for."
"Yes, and we have forged them into spears and knives." Strickland confirmed. "I still do not believe rumors of an army of dead men, but you made your orders quite clear."
"Now that we're all here, you can get to work preparing your men for war." Euron dismissed. "I require a private audience with the Queen."
At Cersei's nod, Strickland bowed and departed. Gregor moved forward to threaten Euron, but unlike others, he only looked amused by the undead giant.
"I've provided the Iron Fleet for you." Euron reminded. "I transported the Golden Company here. And I've brought my skills to fight for you. I think I've earned a private audience."
"I've killed men for lesser insults." Cersei threatened him.
"They were worms, men unfit to lick my boots." Euron dismissed.
"You're the most arrogant prick I've ever met." Cersei snapped. "Fortunately for you, I like a certain amount of arrogance." Bracing herself for what she had to do, Cersei beckoned him to follow.
She'd endured worse in her life and Euron did have the arrogance that attracted her. It won't be long before I have everything I want. Once Euron served his purpose, she would dispose of him.
The Starks and the Targaryen girl would be dead. Her dwarf brother would be dead. And Jaime would once again be by her side, where he belonged.
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"After everything I've done, I'm still considered a monster." Daenerys wanted to scream but she was too exhausted to. "I liberated slaves in Essos. I offered mercy to those who fought for Cersei. And now I'm here fighting against the Army of the Dead."
"We're often judged by our circumstances." Jon admitted. Daenerys knew he'd endured similar prejudice and sometimes wondered how he could take it so lightly. "I believe in you, Dany." He took her hands in his. "And they will too. It's not easy to earn the loyalty of Northerners, but once you do, they'll be by your side no matter what."
"Your sister doesn't like me, either." Daenerys complained. "I don't expect her to be my friend, but you would think after what I'm sacrificing to help the North, she could show a little gratitude."
"My sister has suffered, just as you have." Jon sighed. "Anything more than that is her story to tell. Remember: I bent the knee to you because I believe you'll be a better ruler than what came before. I've seen what you've accomplished."
Daenerys kissed him, grateful for his presence. Perhaps she just had to be patient and win the adoration she'd earned from liberating others.
She'd learned from the first time they slept together how different of a man Jon was from her previous lovers. Drogo and Darrio were arrogant, cocky men who enjoyed killing and boasted of being great warriors.
Jon possessed no similar bloodlust or desire to fight. There was no arrogance within him, only a determination to do what was right. He'd never even wanted a crown.
And he was the only one who kissed her down there. Daenerys never realized before how much pleasure she could receive from lovemaking.
Once they had finished and Jon went to sleep, Daenerys retrieved her nightgown and stared into the night sky. She shivered slightly from the breeze but refused to let it faze her.
You took my child from me, you bastard. Her thoughts wandered over to the Night King. Viserion had always been the gentlest of her dragons, in sharp contrast to the man he was named after. Like his siblings Drogon and Rheagal, they traveled beyond the Wall and saw the wight army for themselves.
"And he's with him now." Daenerys spat, thinking of her dragon being forced to serve the Night King's will. When the time came, she swore the being would pay. She'd never seen anything stand up to dragonfire. "My child is another's slave…"
The night was clear, unlike her thoughts. Even at night, she could hear the sounds of preparation outside the castle walls. Winterfell might fall, but not without as much of a fight as they could give the enemy.
"Perhaps I should have just killed Cersei Lannister when I had the chance." Daenerys mused. It would have made everything a lot easier. "I'd already be sitting on the Iron Throne and I could lead Seven Kingdoms against this threat." Tyrion had argued against such a strategy, worrying that thousands of innocent lives would be lost. As a result, Cersei betrayed her, keeping her forces in King's Landing and making the coming battle much more difficult.
At times, Daenerys wondered how loyal Tyrion really was. Following his strategies had done more harm than good and in her darker moments, she sometimes wondered if he was secretly sabotaging her. The Queen was his sister, after all.
She'd only accomplished a victory when she used her dragons, slaughtering thousands of enemy soldiers. Mercy had been mistaken for weakness. "Strength is the only thing these people understand." Daenerys muttered.
"What are you still doing up?" Jon wondered, rubbing his eyes. He climbed out of bed, hugging her from behind. Daenerys leaned back, moving closer to him.
"Just thinking about Viserion and everything else going on." Daenerys admitted. "Cersei betrayed us and I promise you, I'm not about to forget that."
"Aye, I never thought she would be so mad." Jon agreed. "One of many reasons she doesn't deserve to sit the throne."
"Once we beat the dead, we're still going to have her to contend with." Daenerys had left a small part of her forces behind, just as an insurance policy in case Cersei betrayed her.
Cersei Lannister spit on the mercy she offered, an act Daenerys swore she would not repeat. With Jon by her side, she would break the wheel once and for all.
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I'm going to be following Season 8 only in broad strokes. Some parts of it will be expanded, others deleted.
If you're wondering why I'm introducing guns and cannons to the fight, we had those weapons in the Middle Ages. They didn't bear much resemblance to what we now think of as guns but we did possess them. How well they perform… we'll find out.
And Daenerys' character arc deserves more expansion than we got. This isn't intended as a fix-fic but I want to give more reasoning then: "I'm going to kill everyone in King's Landing over a temper tantrum!" I haven't yet decided how ruthless she's going to be in this story.
Plus, I think Sansa would be a little more subtle with her dislike and plans. She is a student of Littlefinger, after all.