Daenerys watched, proud that even her unruly Drogon loved Ser Jorah as much as she did. She had never seen her dragons respond to a non-Targaryen this way. She knew her dragons. Her children. She knew. They mirrored her adoration for the exiled man. Their relationship had its highs and lows. Betrayals and exiles of their own, but nobody fought to or for their Khaleesi like the Mormont.

They say a father is a woman's first love, Daenerys never knew hers. But she knew a love so pure, so strong, not even Grey Scale kept the man away. For his Khaleesi, he broke history.

She had grown, and changed, and even though forgiveness wasn't the first quality Targaryen's brought to mind, she could not ignore the man's wholehearted devotion. Something even her beasts recognized on a spiritual level. Jorah Mormont was made differently than other people. Other men. Even her dragons needed no other man by her side.

Before all the people, all the armies, and the throne was in sight... There was Jorah.

"I owe them to you." They both looked up at her towering dragon. He turned to her in shock. Daenerys Targaryen knew the worth of her name and what was owed to her. It was a rare, private, and humble moment with the queen. His eyes crinkled in the corner as he looked at her, full of adoration no doubt. It wouldn't matter to him if she screamed "Fire & Blood" over and over at him, if it was all she ever said... She was his queen. She was his queen the moment he laid eyes on her...

Her platinum hair spun like gold around her. He reached out and touched a stray, soft lock.

"Whatever do you mean, Khaleesi? I had no part in making you dragon-born." She smiled at him. Nobody ever propped her up as he did.

"My brother..." His gaze hardened. He hadn't tossed a thought to the girl's mad brother in years. The memories left a bad taste in his mouth when he remembered how Viserys treated her. 'If he were still around, Khaleesi would've given him the treatment Khal Drogo did.' He thought that proudly, he couldn't help but admire in the ways Daenerys had grown from a young girl to a queen. His queen. "He plotted to take them away from me, thinking I would never be strong enough to tame them."

Jorah remembered. "If he had lived, your dragons would've burned him themselves." She smiled a little. There was never any doubt her dragons would've picked her, evidence of how far she'd come and he hadn't was enough.

"Yes," She agreed, her face a little smug. "But, I was different back then... I was looking to him to guide me, then Khal Drogo-"

"And then yourself, Dany." He said gently. "You grew, as we all do." He cupped her flawless face with a hand. "None of this should be attributed to me." She smiled at him and his heart swells up like a balloon.

"You protected me, all of us. As you always have. I was not the Khaleesi then I am today. I owe that to you." He decided to soak in the moment of praise, it was like heroin to him.

"I would do anything for you, Khaleesi." He breathed, trying to drag himself away from her eyes. He failed as usual. "It is nothing to thank me for, but you're welcome. Your Grace." She finally feels satisfied that Jorah has some idea of how important he is to her. Drogon seems to sniff in approval, settling himself in a comfortable position. Daenerys' stare becomes proud.

"He is his true self with you. When I am with you, he relaxes." She stared up at her child in wonder. "Not even Jon..." Jorah smiles to himself. Jon was a nice man, a lot like Ned Stark. That was his problem, he was a little too green for the remaining princess of House Targaryen. But he made her happy. Who was he to deny that? "It's like they know, even then you protected them."

Jorah tossed a look at Drogon that was full of respect. He had lived long enough to learn a lot about dragons, even before he'd seen one. The Targaryens and many others speculated the dragons could be just as smart as humans or way smarter. He had certainly seen her dragons act independently and do things that dictated cunning. He didn't doubt they could judge souls. The pure, strong soul of their mother and his soul's devotion to protecting her.

He rubbed a calloused hands over Drogon's scales. The beast made a contented growl and Jorah chuckled.

"It is my honor to serve dragons and their queen."

Daenerys was atop Drogon's back, and as usual, she had a lot of choices.

"Ring the bell!"

"Ring the bell!"

"Ring the bells! Ring them!"

"Ring the bells already!"

The chorus of screams from the people of King's Landing tore her from her daydream. Retreating in her mind was the only way she could get Jorah's comfort and wisdom back. He died protecting her from the Army Of The Dead, and for what? Cersei's betrayal might as well have beheaded him. She withheld her troops and doomed everyone to certain death to keep the throne. And it killed Jorah.

'A selfish queen such as she doesn't care for the cries of her people...' She thought, shaking her longing for her old friend from her mind. The Game Of Thrones does not care what you want. 'She will not let her men surrender, and I will be forced to siege the city. That is the only I can take the throne.' She repeated firmly in her mind. She already knew it. Even a dragon could not force Cersei to be reasonable and put her people first. She did not care about her people, she cared only about the throne.

Daenerys was different, right? Because right now, that was all she wanted. Her people in Essos, the one's properly liberated, she loved them and they loved her. She arrived to them suffering and she found ways to remove slavers from their lives, and they worshipped her for it. Here, the smallfolk were in very common positions but did nothing to aid her. Why? Fight for your freedom, to be free of Cersei.

More cries and pleas. And then she heard the bell's first ring. It was then she realized her warsuit matched her son's scales perfectly. She was an extension of him, and he her. She had never felt so in sync with her dragon in the moment. She knew. She would have to choose either peace or blood.

As she stared at the red door of The Keep, she felt a rage raising in her like bile. It wasn't something she'd never felt or fought before. She often felt rage when she thought of her family massacred and her and her brother being whisked across the sea in fear for their lives. But, it was remembering her family built the Red Keep. It was hers, and Cersei sat there watching her rampage.

She could go right now. She would be Cersei's judge, jury, and executioner. With her immolation, a new era would begin in Westeros. One of peace and prosperity. The Dragon Queen, Daenerys The Liberator, brought magic back to Westeros! They will sing songs of her mercy and heroics, she saved the whole realm on her dragon!

And then the bell rung. A searing pain split through her head suddenly. She cried out, making her dragon roar. Even though she was in King's Landing, all she could think about was watching the lights on her Dothraki's swords go out. One by one, almost her whole entire army was extinguished. The army she built first. The men who's loyalty was only rivaled by the Unsullied.

The bell rang again.

"She's going to die. Unless you change her course of action."

"The city will fall by tomorrow."

"Escape together, the two of you."

"Please, if you hear them ringing, call off the attack."

"If you hear the bells, they've surrendered. Call off your men."

These were all things Tyrion said before anyone could've known what Daenerys would do in King's Landing. Maybe she didn't even know herself, yet. The imp still found himself in Winterfell, sticking close to Jaime and other northerners who considered him a friend. He knew his family had a lot of history with the North, but they didn't seem any closer to forgetting it. He couldn't blame them.

He had noticed one Stark in particular eyeing him. The youngest boy and crippled, Bran Stark. He wasn't sure if he was diseased in the mind or perhaps the smartest of them all. Jon and the rest of his family took his 'visions' as gospel. Tyrion wasn't above giving the boy a chance, he had an eery knack for being right. He couldn't help but wonder what those stares meant.

He had eyed Jaime a lot as well, but anyone with a brain knew why. Jaime would be lucky to escape the North with his head between the remaining Starks and Targaryens residing there. There was a loaded history between them both and the Lannisters.

He finally gave in to curiosity when he found a moment alone with the boy, his stare as distant as Essos.

"You seem as though you have a lot to say?" Tyrion tried, his tone friendly. Bran blinks and the same half smile remains on his face. "Maybe to me?" He turned to face the short man.

"You know that she will do it, don't you?" Tyrion's heart froze in his chest. He didn't know what Bran meant but at the same time, he did. He knew who she was. And he knew what it was he meant.

"Excuse me? I don't follow." Bran's stare hardened ever so slightly.

"Your sister will hold out in The Keep til the very last second. Daenerys will burn all of King's Landing before she or anyone else can escape." Bran told of the apocalypse by dragon but he was as calm as ever. Tyrion had cursed his own family before. Many times before. He had cursed King's Landing and the people who inhabit it just as many times. He told them all to take poison and rot.

But with his father gone (by his hand) and the threat of his family name going extinct on his mind, he began to feel ill. "You cannot be serious, Daenerys-"

"Will not yield to the bells." A chill ran through Tyrion's spine. The bells signaled a lot of things and surrender during conflict. Even the most notorious sacks he knew of abided by the bells. "Daenerys will have a choice: the throne or burning it all to the ground." He turned to the short man, his face impassive. "I've told you what she will choose." Tyrion shook his head vehemently, paranoia creeping into the back of his head.

"She wouldn't do it, I can't believe it. We came all this wa-"

"I saw visions of her dragon's shadow over King's Landing years ago. And now, I see visions of it burning. Do you think she would burn it down if she found out she wasn't the true heir to the throne?" A freezing breeze blew between them both. The statement silenced Tyrion. He couldn't bring himself to answer with the truth, but he knew how he felt. The benevolent Daenerys who was assured of her future reign and a threatened Daenerys would be two different queens, he knew that much.

"How? She is the last remaining Targaryen." He explained wearily. Something on Bran's face made him feel like he'd have an answer to that.

"She's not." He answered simply. Tyrion only responded with a look. "My aunt Lyanna Stark... Rhaegar Targaryen. He did not kidnap or rape her, they were in love. They were married." The dwarf's brow furrowed in confusion. "In the Tower Of Joy, she gave birth to a Targaryen heir. A boy." He began shaking his head.

"No... This cannot true." Tyrion began. 'This can't happen to her, not when we get to Westeros.' He rifled a small hand through his hair. "Who-"

"Jon Snow is not Ned Stark's bastard son." Tyrion actually stumbled a bit when he heard Ned's name. "He never betrayed my mother. He made a promise to his sister, Lyanna. He promised to watch over her son, Aegon, who Robert would murder if he ever found."

"No, Bran-"

"Jon Snow is Aegon Targaryen. The true King Of The Seven Kingdoms." Tyrion could've cried in that moment. Daenerys really was wrapped up in a Greek tragedy at every turn. None of this was fair to her.

"He didn't even like ruling the Night's Watch, he doesn't want to be king!" He snapped back. He shook his head, feeling powerless to help. "Didn't we learn with Robert what happens when you let a man who doesn't want to be King rule? Why would you tell me this, anyways? Huh? Leave it up to a dwarf to save the realm..." Bran just watched him silently.

"Because you needed to know." Tyrion didn't like that answer.

"So what do you propose I do for the people in King's Landing that are about to be scorched?" He stared at him hard, searching for any evidence Bran actually cared about the future genocide he predicted.

He blinked. "I don't propose anything. The choice is yours to make." Tyrion narrowed his eyes.

"Okay, say for fun's sake, I believe you." He cast his eyes on the gates of Winterfell. "If you say Daenerys is faced with a choice... And she makes it, what can I realistically do?"

"You can do nothing if it's what you choose to do." Bran said cryptically, looking at him once more. "You know what inaction does and does not mean." Tyrion knew if Daenerys ever did destroy King's Landing, his brother would be there. And he'd likely be destroyed. "Life is nothing but a series of choices, Tyrion. Choices that led us all here." Bran's gaze goes on the horizon as well. "I don't want anymore, don't worry about me telling you information because I want a certain outcome. I just inform."

'I wish I thought you had a bias, boy.' Tyrion thought, his head swimming in possibilities. He used to think his brother had mentally deformed the boy when he shoved him from a tower, but now he was certain he was given some sort of power or gift. And it terrified him."Isn't there something you can do?"

Bran makes a face that might mean discontent for him. "Perhaps, but I could also cause far more damage trying warg into events." Tyrion threw his hands out.

"If there's anything you can do, you have to try! For the people of King's Landing!" Bran stared at Tyrion for a long moment. He wonders what of his history the boy knew. At this rate, it was probably easier to wonder what he didn't know.

"All that I could do is try to warg into the moment after she's already burned the city down." He explained, his voice flat." Tyrion sighed.

"Well, if it as inevitable as you say, that may be what you have to do..." He answered, thinking of his own failed doing's as Daenerys' Hand. He looked seriously into the young boy's eyes. "I will try to influence Daenerys as positively as I can. And this talk, I'll keep it myself." Bran's head tilted slightly. "Just please, what you've told me today... Tell me you will try to change it. No matter what."

Bran looked at him for a long moment before nodding. "Yes."

The imp exhaled. "Thank you."

xxx

The Night King is dead. Daenerys has just toasted and cheered Jon's sister, little Arya stark. Amongst all the death and chaos it was the little Stark who stopped the White Walker's reign of terror. Daenerys was thankful for that. There was a point where the Army of The Dead could've overcome anything. Daenerys had no problems thanking her, either.

But she sat in Winterfell during the "celebration". Alone. Her armies were preparing for their next war, Missandei and Grey Worm with them. And it was then, Daenerys realized that without them, she was alone.

These were Jon's people. Jon's home. Jon's world. They surrounded him even though he seemed to want to be alone. They cheered for him. Sang to him. Not her. There was no love in Westeros. Not for Daenerys Targaryen, The Unburnt. She had lost a dragon to their enemy and she had rode her remaining other two to fight them. And she sat alone with a cup of meade.

"What kind of madman rides a dragon? A king, I tell ya! A king!" Nobody had even called her queen in this barren land.

It rang again. She saw Viserion slide into the icy ocean, never to be seen again (at least she had wished). Her head was ringing. Ringing harder than the bell. She gasped, looking around her. King's Landing was already on fire to her. She had to take the kingdom by force. With Jon's claim out there, she would never sit long in safety. In the peace she had so desperately wanted. Varys had tried to kill her, of this she was certain. But now, Cersei surrenders as her last act. It wasn't fair. It wasn't altruism on her part, it was as insulting as cutting Missandei's head off.

Another ring.

Jorah sailed to his knees, blood trickling out of his mouth. He was trying to speak but no words could come out. She grabbed onto him as he fell, his eyes looking through her.

"Khaleesi..." She heard him sputter and she was already crying.

"NO," She shook her head, trying to choose a wound to cover. "Jorah hang on,"

"I'm hurt," He sighed, his eyes scared. He was moving his lips but no words were coming out. Daenerys leaned in and tried to stop screaming so she could hear him. But his lips went slack.

"Jorah no," He was with the light of the seven now, dying just as the army dropped for good. "NO."

She gasped, her head buzzing.

In one swift motion Rhaegal was shot and descending towards the ocean. She didn't even get a second to mourn. She wouldn't even get to see his body, either. It wasn't fair.

Why did Cersei get to claim one of her dragons? Wasn't giving one to the Night King enough? Wasn't fighting against one to save the world enough? It wasn't fair.

She shook her head, angry tears leaking out of her eyes. She didn't know why, but nothing had ever made her angrier than the sound of that bell. Cersei executed Missandei just to surrender weeks later.

Grey Worm knew. He knew if she kept going, that he and the Unsullied would as well. Through Fire & Blood would they follow her. 'Jon won't.' She thought. 'He is too honorable, and that enough could be considered treasonous. And getting him will secure my reign...'

She thought about the last images she had of her closest fiends, her advisors, and her dragons. 'Let it be fear, then.' The bell continued to ring, the sound itself about to drive the Targaryen into a rage. That's when she heard it. A faint voice. She thought her descent into madness was finally complete until Drogon turned his head too. 'He heard it too..' It was faint, calling out to them both.

'Aerys...'

She looked around, the bell singing out to her.

From below, Jon watched and wondered why it was taking her so long. Tensions were high on the ground, Cersei's army had surrendered.

'...Aerys...' She heard it again, Drogon looking around. 'Daenerys...'

'It's addressing me.' She thought, her brow furrowed in confusion. 'Am I finally losing it?' But Drogon heard too, so how could she be crazy?

'Daenerys... They won't love you...' She heard the faded voice say. 'They won't love you...' A knife stabbed in her heart and twisted. Even a disembodied voice floated to her to tell her what she already knew. There was no love for her in Westeros. Could it be what her father wanted to tell her all along? She never got to know him, she only knew him through accounts. Accounts of biased people.

'They won't love you...Burn them all.'

Now she understood her father after so long. The Westerosi's lower houses, they were tired of the true blood Targaryen reign, tired of living in fear of dragons being born again. It wasn't that her father was crazy, the low bloods of Westeros conspired against him and drove him mad. And had his own Hand murder him. It had to be it. And if she wasn't careful, the same would happen to her.

This was his love for her, seeing his daughter at a crossroads and at a place to finish what he started long ago. To restore their Targaryen dynasty to former glory. It was a beautiful moment, the sun shining through the clouds. She could feel her father with her. Missandei had said Dracarys to her, and now even her father's spirit. This was destiny, and she had only lost fighting it.

Daenerys descended upon King's Landing like a fireball. There would be no surrender. There would be no peace. Not until all traces of Cersei were in flames. Then, a new nation would be formed from the ashes. A Targaryen one. She snarled and her dragon did the same. She gripped him tight. "DRACARYS."

"Bran?" Sansa said quietly, the raven note in her hand. Bran sat in his wheeled chaired by the fire, staring off into space as he often did. Bran made the red-head a little uncomfortable, but he was the only family she had right now. Jon was in King's Landing with the lizard queen and Arya was wandering King's Landing to kill Cersei (or maybe even Daenerys by now).

Sansa had spent her formative years growing up under the thumbs of Cersei, Littlefinger, and Ramsay Bolton. She knew when to recognize a tyrant when she saw one. What sealed the deal was her unwillingness to budge on the North. Sure, dominion didn't seem like that big a deal but Sansa had seen it all before. While things between her and Jon were good, things would be good for the North. And once they weren't they were at the Dragon Queen's mercy.

She had seen how The Game Of Thrones was played. She had also seen how to survive it. She knew it required deceit at times, she just wished her brother could be a little less like her dad. She loved Ned dearly, but he'd been out of the Game Of Thrones for years. Death had that effect on people.

He turned slowly to face his sister. "Sansa." She crumpled the letter in her hands.

"The war is over. King's Landing has fallen. It was... demolished. Daenerys won." Bran doesn't look the least bit surprised. She hasn't seen him look surprised since he was a child.

"Okay. I'm going to go now, Sansa." Her face became apprehensive.

"Will you be alright? Are you sure it's a good idea?" She began to worry, edging closer to him. "I don't like when you... You know." She pressed. She knew very little about Bran's abilities and she always worried about him getting stuck in that trance-like state. Frankly, she didn't know what she'd do if he did.

"It will be alright." His eyes rolled back in the back of his head as soon as he'd spoken.

The warging trip took him only a few weeks into the past now. Daenerys has just torched the defensive scorpion perimeter around King's Landing. Euron's fleets were wiped out. The army was ambushed and panicked under the strain of the Unsullied and Dothraki. Daenerys is atop Drogon and watching proudly as her forces overwhelm the Lannisters and the Golden Company.

It's going just as Daenerys always knew it would. Bran is a secret witness to the events, jumping a little himself when he hears the bell ring. 'This is my only chance...' He thought, watching as Daenerys comes to an invisible crossroads.

'Daenerys!' He called. He sees her respond, but it's faint as it always has been in experience. He yells like he hasn't in years. 'Daenerys!' She looks around, this time the dragon moves. She looks around, she clearly hears him. 'Daenerys... Daenerys, They won't love you if you burn them!' He called. He knew she still cared, deep down about her people's love and she didn't want to destroy the city. 'They won't love you if you burn them all!' He called to her again.

He can see the conflict on her face. The pain. And then she looked like her father hugged her for the first time, like she could do anything. And she proceeded to dismantle King's Landing with dragon fire.

"The past is already written, the ink is already dry." The old Three Eyed Raven's words rang through his head. It was only now that he began to understand. Bran hadn't stopped her rampage, if anything he'd likely caused it by being there at all.

"How is he?" Brienne asked Sansa, her eyes permanently puffy since Jaime's departure. Sansa huffed.

"He hasn't spoken since I told him the news of King's Landing."

'When the bells ring that means they've surrendered.'

'Please, when you hear the bells you must call off your men.'

'I've seen the Dothraki alone overwhelm Lannister forces, when they ring the bell cease fighting.'

Tyrion's anxious pleas rang through Jon's head. He stared at the terrified Lannister soldiers, staring down savages and the Unsullied. One by one they dropped their swords with a clatter. Cersei wasn't worth dying for. Jon could almost cry as he watched them give up. He had fought enough for ten lifetimes, especially with a dragon at his back. He was tired of fighting, all he really wanted was to go north. Way north. He had hated these people at one time but it was not anymore. It was even easier to batter their defenses down than he'd thought.

He threw his hands up, honoring his promise to Tyrion. His dark hair clung to his neck in sweat, his top knot doing nothing to keep it out of his way. "Hold fire!" He shouted over the anarchy. "Fall back, they surrender!" He screamed. "They surrender!" He looked into the eyes of his comrades but they were all watching Daenerys, even his Northmen. That didn't matter, he knew she would go for Cersei at most and then keep peace.

But soon, even he began to worry as she hovered in the air. 'What is there to think of, Dany...' He thought, waiting for her accept the surrender. 'Dany, ya have to...' He watched in disbelief she dove on Drogon and demolished an entire street with ease. 'No... What is she doin'...' He looked around helplessly, feeling the pressure of the soldiers building behind him.

With a scream, Grey Worm launched his spear through an unarmed soldier. "GREY, NO" Jon shouted but the screams of everyone around drowned him out. Dothraki, Unsullied, and even his men swarmed the soldiers before they could pick up their weapons. "NO," Jon cried in vain but it didn't matter. It turned into a full on sack in moments as Daenerys systematically destroyed King's Landing. Jon watched in horror as men he'd fought beside and got to know began slaughtering innocents.

He caught Grey Worm eyeing him a few times during the rampage but he didn't care. This was wrong. And Jon Snow would never sack. He threw a scrambling soldier off of him, then another. He stumbled as Daenerys crashed right over top of them, Drogon destroying anything he could reach. He listened helplessly as he heard women and children die around him. Jon heard Ser Davos scream near him. He began to move, still in shock from the scene. King's Landing was being burned from the inside out.

Unarmed soldiers were getting executed, then the women were ravaged. Jon looked around as he took in the sight of charred, unidentifiable remains. Women and children alike. He felt nauseated, and nothing got to him anymore after his resurrection. He felt strangely human right then, and helpless. Like a child as Dany rode overtop of them. 'Dany's doin' this...' He thought, listening to her dragon scream overhead. He thought of her smiling at him in the snow. 'How...'

'I will you join you in the fight beyond the wall.' She gripped Jon's hand, so glad for some reason that the short northerner had survived his excursion past the wall. He gazed into her eyes, his expression soft.

'I'm sorry, Dany. My queen.'

'How...' How was this the same person? The same person he had let himself fall for. Now, she was as bad as 1,000 Cersei's and Sansa had all but told him so. Jon watched in shock and disgust as one of his own men sacked a woman and prepared to disrobe and rape her. "STOP IT," He shouted, pulling him off her quickly.

The man bellowed, most angry that Jon had interrupted his fun. He swung for him and then tried to cut him. Out of reflex, Jon swung his sword. He cut through the soldier like butter and he fell to the ground, sputtering blood. Jon stared as he slid to the ground, his hands covered in blood. He turned to the woman, trembling in fear. "Go," He urged distantly. "Run, that way." He motioned and she tore of running.

He stared at his bloodied sword. He had killed his own man. But that man was a raper, he had to. He mostly couldn't believe he had been alongside people capable of this all along. He didn't care if a flock of dragons flew above him, he would never sack. He looked up to see Lannister's forces trying to direct commoners away from Drogon's fury. It was hopeless. They weren't armed and she was targeting them. If Daenerys wanted them to burn, they would burn.

He thought about all the times she reached out to him.

How he could't fake his feelings once he learned their relation and how she assumed it was because he wanted the throne.

How she burned Varys when Jorah and Missandei were already gone. Daenerys had nobody, she had been very alone for a while now. When he thought of it that way, this seemed very likely to happen. Almost inevitable. Maybe he had done his very best to ignore that.

She had asked Jon to more than serve her, the whole realm was riding on his one decision and he couldn't even lie for the safety of Westeros. She was judging all of them as she judged him: unworthy of anything but fear. What had it all been for? Years of fearing the others beyond the wall and trying to make people understand about the real war coming. The war came and only Daenerys and the North fought it.

Now, it was just a legend or a myth that nobody paid attention to. The threat they all ignored had been the beautiful, courageous, even sometimes kind dragon queen in Essos. It had brought them to the destruction of King's Landing.

Now she was the real war.

As Jon watched, powerless to stop Daenerys or his own men he had to wonder something. He had always admired Ned for dying for his honor. To his dying day, Ned died showing the realm the kind of man he was. Jon had never really thought about how he died for his honor. Is that all honor got you, death? He was beginning to think so. Maybe his dear father wanted to teach him that lesson but he never really understood it.

Maybe Jon should've forsaken his honor a long time ago. As he watched the filthy, disgusting, and immoral chaos around him he certainly thought so.

"You know nothing, Jon Snow." It had been Ygritte's favorite thing to say to him. He wishes he could hear her say it now.

'What have I done?'