AN: I own nothing.
ANSWERING REVIEWS
BUTCH BETH: Good point about Yara and her ships being very useful to Dany, I did forget about that fact. But she choose Dany because Dany is seemingly stronger than Cersei, if Cersei had been seemingly stronger she would have gone to her, therefore not truly loyal, I cerantly wouldn't trust that person more than I absolutely have to. Her picking Dany was strategy. Either way I personally don't care for any of the Greyjoys. Like at all. So I won't be writing them anymore than my story and the ideas I have dictate. Also there is a huge difference between Dany killing innocents and them dying by someone else hand or for some outside reason she can't control. She's not going to butcher innocents just because they *might* have died anyways. Many will die but it won't be because she killed needlessly. As for Jon being locked up . . . That is not how you treat potential allies, let alone a king, to say the least, especially since he hasn't physically harmed her. Sorry you're not enjoying how I'm writing him but I want some conflict between them before they get together.
Fourteen: Fire and Blood
Kingslayer
The Kingslayer stares as if in a dream state, as the terrifying beast flaps it's wings, projecting itself right towards his frontline in a single swoop. He can hear as the Dothraki also reach the first line of defense, the bang of steel, the cries of horses and men easy to make out but Jamie's sights are set entirely on the dragon.
Jamie watches agape as it hovers over his men about a hundred yards from where he stands, close enough to feel the force of its flapping wings, the wind conjured up threatens to dismount him. But far enough Jamie thinks the flames won't touch him, to which he selfishly thanks the gods.
It opens its huge jaw, displaying monstrous teeth and roars so loudly Jamie has no doubt the gods themselves were disturbed and breathes fire. Jamie can only stare as at least a hundred of his men are hit by the force of the projected flame, second in sheer force only to an erupting volcano. Maybe.
The screams are the most terrible he's ever heard from men. The following hush from them only to be left with the crackling of fire — even worse.
The dragon continues on, flying behind their line of defense and Jamie's eyes follow it, fear making his blood quiver.
He gasps aloud as he catches sight of silver hair atop the majestic monster.
She's riding it . . . By gods, She's fucking riding it, the Madwoman.
Watching the beast fly away — the sounds of battle are brought back to the forefront of his mind and he turns back to see that The Dragon Queens hoard has broken through, many of them even riding through the flames, their war horses kicking up an odd dust that Jamie can't place right away as he remembered the field to be completely full with lush grass just moments ago. Then Jamie realizes it's not dust. It's ashes. The men that just burned have already turned to ash.
In only seconds they've become nothing. No body left to be identified. No chance at a burial or personal token to be found of them to be presented to a grieving family. Nothing but ashes that will drift with the wind and saturate the air with lives lost.
"Can't you hear me, you dumb fucker!?"
Jamie is ripped from his trance as someone slaps his face. His eyes focus on his sell sword.
"Listen to me, you fucking cunt! You don't get to die because you're busy shitting your pants over a Dragon. You don't get to get yourself killed, only I get to kill ya! Now command the troops before these fuckers butcher us all!"
Jamie nods steely, thankful for the reminder that he has work to do and hardens his nerves.
Time to fight, I will not be ashes.
Jamie turns to the battle ready to try to restrengthen their line until he hears that awful roar again.
He looks to his left to see the dragon bounding back right towards them. When it's close enough it unleashes its hell fire, longer this time and Jamie, once again, can only look on as it destroys half of the line of wagons in one sure sweep.
It's so close to the ground now, wrecking all the havoc it can, Jamie can clearly make out Daenerys Targaryen on its back, commanding it as Aegon The Conquerer once had Balerion the Dread.
Jamie watches as it flies further still and bounds back right towards them.
"We've got to kill that fucking thing!" He yells at Bronn and guides his horse away from the battling men.
"Archers! Archers! In line!"
Fifty Archers race toward his position, their faithful bows and arrows held in front of them like children they're not sure how to properly hold.
"Line up!"
They fall into formation easily as the dragon races directly towards them and Jamie praises their courage.
"Draw!"
They draw their arrows and Jamie prays the fire will be extinguished with this single command.
The dragon opens its jaw wide.
"Loose!"
Fifty arrows race straight and true towards the Dragon and it's rider and for a split second Jamie sees their victory. A part of him feels like a conqueror for destroying the terrible beast. The other a monster for destroying a gorgeous Legend come true. But it's all dashed away as he watches the clever thing drag its chest up and blocks the arrows from its mother as they ping off him like pebbles.
It swoops further down and Jamie's eyes widen knowing it's going to spew fire on them.
Lucky for him and Bronn they have steeds and gallop away before the flames reach them, but only just, as Jamie can still feel the suffocating heat even through his armor.
The archers did not fair as well and the dragon flies off again, their scorched bodies falling to the ground. Jamie now sees the ones that turn to ash immediately as the fortunate ones, as he watches some men burn slower. One rips his helmet off, his skin coming off with it and the Kingslayers stomach rolls.
Jamie doesn't dwell long, not this time, as he sees one of the few wagons that still stands holds exactly what they need.
"Qyborns Scorpin is over there!" Jamie yells to Bronn, as the ruthless sell sword dispatches a Screamer.
"Go get it then!"
"I can't shoot with one hand!"
Bronn eyes him hatefully, calls him a dirty cunt but rides off towards it none the less.
Jamie almost weeps as he sees even through all the smoke, the Targaryen bitch and her dragon coming back again, relentlessly.
Jamie hears a gutteral scream, closer than the ones still fighting his men and turns to see a savage galloping towards him, eyes dead set on Jamie, his next conquest, two Arakhs swinging, slicing men as he goes, the dragon flying over head.
Gods, it is a sight, even Jamie has to admit.
He knows there's nowhere to run so he unsheathes his sword waiting for the man to come.
When he does he brings both curved blades down upon Jamie's head but he intercepts him with his own traditional sword.
The savage screams throatily and uses all his weight to push down his blades and Jamie feels his strength waning. He uses his golden hand to support the blade and they find themselves at a stale mate.
Until Jamie sees a sword spring though his throat like a pig being skewered.
The screamer falls and Jamie sees Dickon pulling his sword free.
Jamie nods at the lad, eternally grateful, and Dickon returns the favor, coming up close to ask a question.
"What do we do n—"
He doesn't get to finish and Jamie watches helplessly as his head is suddenly taken from his shoulders.
Literally stolen. A savage, as quick as lightening, simultaneously grabbed at his hair and cut his head off and took it with him, whooping and hollering, swinging it over his own head as he rides away.
Dickons now limp, incomplete body falls on Jamie's shoulder, his blood pouring all over him, coating his armor and face.
It pains him, the indignity of it, but he pushes the boys corpse off him and turns back to the battle, his heart and mind alike controlled solely by bloodlust now, not emotion for anything other than what needs to be done next to win.
He'll grieve later.
He hears the dragon roar again. Watches it unleash its fire again.
I have to end this somehow! Now!
Mother of Dragons
Dany shifts as far as she can to see beneath her at the carnage she's created. While she cannot bring herself to regret this battle, it still doesn't ease her heart of the lives being whisked away by steel and fire at her command.
It's not the first time she's killed, nor will it be the last if she's to live another day, but she's found it never gets easier.
When she'd sent a scout to watch the Lannister army marching, stern orders to report back to her at once if they rest, she'd hoped for exactly this. A wide open plain in which her hoard could do what they do best and she and Drogon as well.
And when the Lannisters became aware of their mighty presence they surprised her greatly. They lined up to fight.
Even as she commanded the first flames from her child she mentally commended their bravery.
And scorned their commanders utter stupidity.
Now as she rides back and forth destroying all she can of the Lannisters much needed supplies, something she realizes too late was not the best course of action she could have chosen, she still knows this battle is won.
If she could do it over again she would have tried to destroy more of the forces before her Dothraki came riding up. But by the time her men meet the unflinching line, it was too late. She couldn't risk burning her entire Hoard as the men battled so she'd decided then her next best course of action was destroy what they worked so hard to procure.
Thank the gods, Highgarden has more. Cersei will go without, and by extension the people, not that they would have seen any of this food anyways. But I will change that quickly. This war will be over soon, by all the gods I have foresaken, I swear it, and then I will see my people to prosperity once again.
The smoke and airborne debris burns Daenerys eyes fiercely as she doubles back and tries to search for anything or anyone her child needs to dispatch, but she didn't find anything.
Instead it found her.
An arrow, seemingly as thick as her arm and as long as she is tall, sails by terrifyingly past her, just barely missing Drogons outstretched wing and coming even closer to her head.
She looks to the ground searching for the weapon capable of launching such a thing. The clouds of destruction part and a beam of light hits it as if the gods wished to illuminate it for her. She takes it as a sign to destroy it. A large, impressive contraption she's never seen before, probably made specifically to kill her child.
Smart bastards!
Daenerys grits her teeth and wordlessly commands Drogon down towards it as fast as he can — the harsh wind like knives against her bare cheeks until tears spring to her eyes.
As Drogon soars down, his head, as big as a small carriage, blocks her view. She can't see clearly how far off they are, but she cannot let the man controlling that contraption fire first.
"Dracarys!"
Dany can sense the flames building in Drogons throat as if it's coming from hers as well, but before he can fulfill his mothers command the arrow penetrates her child in his side.
The cry that leaves him is one she'll take to her grave, the pain he's suffering a pain she shares with him.
And then he's falling, his right wing paralyzed in agony. Dany hangs on for dear life, her hands grip his horns like a leech and her thighs grip his body as she would a horse, but a dragon is not a horse. He's too wide, her thighs can't find enough purchase to keep her safe if he should flip over.
This struggle seems to go on forever and Dany can feel her strength leaving her and she fears she'll fall to her death in seconds as well as Drogon to his.
She has nothing left, her unrefined muscles not developed enough for this amount of strain. A tear leaves her eye as she searches deep inside of herself, the part connected to her child and gives him the last of whatever she has left, her only hope that he survives this crash, even if she cannot.
If I die, you must live, my sweet baby. You must live and choose another. Another that can take my place in this war and in your heart. I'm so sorry.
"I love you."
The air is stolen from her gut as Drogon, with a powerful screech, rights himself before he comes too close to the ground, his wing within his own power again, flapping strongly.
With the unexpected and jarring movement, Danys lower body finds itself airborne for a few scary seconds until gravity pulls her back down harshly, her grip still thankfully somewhat strong on Drogons horns, her only saving grace to not falling off all together.
Deanerys feels more drained than she ever has before, then realizes her child had used the strength she'd given to save them both, the brilliant creature.
She stares down at the man that shot her baby as they hover above him and the retched weapon and she doesn't even need to say the word. Drogon lights it up, but not before Dany watches the bastard jump off the platform on which it sits.
I will fucking find you.
Drogon lands besides it heavily and drives his tail through the thing, the sound of its destruction the most pleasing thing either of the fierce dragons has ever heard.
Dany, boneless and wind blown, crawls off her child to see to his injury.
She's sickened as she watches him crawl agonized toward the water, the too large arrow sticks out of him of like a pin in a cushion.
The battle going on around her doesn't even enter her mind, all that matters is caring for her child.
As he drinks from the river she grabs a hold of the arrow and using her shoulder as leverage she pulls. Drogon screeches and his pain soars through his mother bringing more tears to Danys eyes.
She doesn't let them fall though, she needs to get the arrow out of him. It's the only way he'll begin healing. She pulls again, to no avail, and he answers with another awful screech and jerks his wing away making Dany stumble.
She moves to grab at the arrow again and as she does a terrible, nausea inducing agony rips through her own shoulder and The Conqueror screams out. Not the metaphysical pain she feels second hand from Drogon.
No — an entirely physical pain that is all her own.
Loud gasps and shouts fall from her lips and she begins hyperventilating as she looks to her left shoulder stunned and sees the tip of an arrow and a few inches of the wood sticking out of her body, her blood coating it grotesquely.
She instinctually grabs around the injury, only causing herself more pain and turns to look to see who shot her.
When she turns, her eyes catch a Lannisters soldier on his knee some yards away from her, his bow lowered to see if he made his kill.
When he sees he missed her heart he reaches behind him for another arrow making Dany cry out again.
He draws it and Dany panics, the pain, none like she's ever felt before, steeling her wits from her.
Lucky for her the man didn't hide himself well and one of her Dothraki, still a top his mount, cuts him down but not before he lets his arrow loose. This one misses and Dany gasps in relief.
It's short lived, though, as her eye catches a mounted knight charging directly towards her. At first all she can see is the water being kicked up by the beautiful white war horse, but as he becomes uncomfortably close she can make out the man.
He wears the finest of red and gold armor, a show of his prestige in Cerseis army, a lance wedged expertly under his arm. His blonde hair flops as his horse charges and that alone should have told her who he is. But it's the fury in his focused gaze that tells her this is Jamie Lannister. Her fathers murderer, the man that was essential in the ruin of her house.
Dany, despite still being in so much pain it threatens to strip her of her consciousness, stops panicking. She clears her head and mentally calls out to Drogon. Despite his own pain he answers his mothers call, shifts to hide her completely from the fiend on his way to slay her, and breathes fire once again.
You'll not finish Aerys Targaryens, The Second of his name, daughter today, Kingslayer.
AN: please review!
The next two chapters are done (only need to be edited), please leave lots of reviews and you'll get them speedy quick.