"I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaaryen–"

"Yes, yes, I know the drill."

Ozai scowled. His eyes were cold and filled with scorn for the miserable looking whelp in front of him. He had better things to do than deal with the likes of her, yet here he was–the great Firelord of Yi Ti–treating with some dethroned queen from across the sea.

Her eyes were filled with stubborn determination as she looked up him. "Then you know what I must do."

Do? The girl had an army–yes, but she was unskilled, untrained, and most of all unworthy of his city.

After all, who was this girl to defy him?

She ought to learn respect, Ozai thought.

The Firelord paused at the thought, his lips curling into a wicked smirk as something dawned on him, his eyes lit at the memory.

He let out a throaty chuckle, his eyes taking in the figure of the slender girl before him.

A girl that he towered over.

A girl that he would soon have begging for his mercy…which would never come.

"What are you," began the Firelord, as he slowly walked toward her, "Fourteen? Fifteen at most?"

Daenerys tilted her head, her brow furrowed, and her determined look giving way to confusion. "I don't see what–"

Ozai ignored her, one sandaled foot stepping in front of the other as he approached, his shadow creeping across the hot summer sand.

"I had a son like you, once," Gold eyes flickered as his shadow crept forward. "Stubborn, arrogant…" Ozai continued.

"I don't see…"

Ozai smirked wickedly, too caught up in a memory to care what the silver-haired girl was prattling on about.

"He thought he could defy his Firelord–me…do you know what happened to him?"

Daenerys furrowed her brow. She did not try to step back, much to Ozai's dismay.

She just stood there.

Then again, neither did Zuko. No. He had to beg for his mercy. He had to embarrass himself and his father in front of the entire court.

Ozai took a deep breath, his inner fire burning strong as he looked at the young girl.

"No, I don't," the girl replied. "And I don't see how this is relevent."

"Then learn!"

Ozai raised his fist then, fire bursting from his hand and swooshing past the girl who dodged it with ease.

Behind her, a man in bright clothes with blue hair ran forward, reaching for his arakh until a look and a gesture from the silver queen made him stop.

Good, Ozai thought. This'll be a lesson she won't soon forget.

Daenerys fired back, a small plume of yellow fire bursting from her open palm.

"Is that the best you can do?" Asked Ozai as he brushed the fire aside.

How pathetic, thought the Firelord. This girl's no dragon.

The battle continued with the silver-haired girl maintaining her distance as Ozai tried to approach.

He grit his teeth. This was going on for far long, and Ozai was getting tired, his movements evidently slowed as Daenerys maneuvered past him.

At some point, Daenerys had made him fall, the hot sand burning into his muscled back.

"Do you yield?"

"Never!"

Fire erupted from Ozai's fist. Daenerys fell backward.

Overhead, Ozai heard a shrill shriek and looked up, his eyes widening at what he was seeing.

He heard the rumors, but not once did he think it was real. The dragons were supposed to be dead. Long dead.

Ozai could only watch in awe as the dragons drew closer.

The silver queen said a word, and Ozai screamed.