—Four hours later—
By midday, it is done.
Smoke and huge flakes of ash, filthy soot and snow continue to waft through the air. At the Old Inn, Sansa coughed and pushed herself up—her body covered in debris. Lyonel and Cassana wiggled their way out while holding their baby brother Torrhen as he wailed. High Septa Rosyn and her clergy had managed to survive, as did the others. Myrcella and Tommen had remained by Daveth's side; the Young Stag's chest rising and falling. He was sound asleep.
"Mama!" the twins coughed.
"*Cough, cough!* My… my babies. Oh, my babies!" Sansa embraced them – an act they immediately reciprocated. Feeling them in her arms, she was overjoyed to see her family was safe – aside from the hellish nightmare they endured. Both Lyonel and Cassana were relatively unharmed, albeit covered in dust and ash from the debris.
"Sansa! Are you all right?" Robb called out to her, clearing the rubble.
"I'm here, Robb!" she answers.
"Uncle Wobb! Auntie Aiya!"
"Ooooh… is everyone here?" Jaime called out.
"So far, present and accounted for," Lucius replied. "We've got some wounded, but the worst cases didn't make it due to the shock. Sorry bastards, the fear of death might've accelerated their already worsened states."
Ariyana swatted the debris out of her hair. "Everyone else is… a bit shaken up. Seven hells, it was a close call. Those dragons missed us by a long shot."
"How's the King?"
"Our brother's alive, but he's sleeping," Myrcella answered. "Whatever magic that red lady used before she died, Daveth might be out cold for quite a while now."
"All that matters to us is that he's alive," Tommen agreed.
"*Cough, cough!* By the Seven," Rosyn coughed before brushing herself off. "By the Gods, it's a miracle."
Determining the danger had momentarily passed, the Wolf Queen stands up on her shaky legs. Her ears were still ringing. She takes a moment to take in her surroundings. Stepping outside, the decimated streets of King's Landing looked like a scene of utter chaos nearly similar to a brutal sacking. Aside from a few distant shouts and curses, the nearby buildings were demolished during the fighting – leaving melted steel, crumbled wood and stone, piles of brick and broken beams were laid out across the ground; fires burned everywhere with the streets stretching from Eel Alley, Street of Steel, Street of Sisters to the Street of Silk being littered with a large number of residents nearby hunched over—wounded, dead or dying.
There is no score to soften the horror. But the crater before her… a large crater had left a trail leading to the Red Keep – demolishing the front gates of the massive castle. Sansa glanced behind her to see a large chunk of the Great Sept of Baelor had been destroyed – presumably as a result of Rhaegal and Drogon crashing through the holy structure before plowing straight into the ground.
"We have to find Jon," Arya mentioned.
"I… I know."
Sansa remembered that Jon was on Rhaegal's back. If both dragons had gone down, there had to be a chance that her cousin had survived the crash. It was a relatively long distance to the Red Keep from her current location, but her family were a tough bunch – like a pack of wolves, the Starks thrive when they're together. Aside from a few distant shouts and screams, the sounds grew increasingly louder just when a large group of civilians started rushing through the streets bunching up against each other.
"Wha… what's going on?" Sansa pondered. "You there! What's happening?"
The man in front of her didn't answer and ran past her.
"Can someone— Pardon me, ser, but can you— Excuse me— Good Gods, what's happening?!"
A soldier stopped in front of her. "Your Grace! It's a miracle!"
"What is?"
"Reinforcements! The other half of our armies has just arrived from the Riverlands, Your Grace! They're mopping up what's left of the Unsullied and Dothraki outside the gates! The rest of us are clearing them off the streets! We've won! I mean, listen to that glorious sound, Your Grace!"
"State your name, soldier."
"Oh! Oh, uh, sorry, Your Grace. Lieutenant Grandin of House Barner," he introduced himself. "I'm a knight in service to House Arryn of the Eyrie."
Sansa's ears perked up at the familiar whooping and hollers of the Dothraki horde close to Flea Bottom, the Streets of Street and Sisters surrounding Rhaenys' Hill as well as the Dragon Gate and Iron Gate. Any sound of battle slowly started to fade away. Accompanied by a small honor guard, the Wolf Queen moved to follow Grandin who leads her to a group of kneeling Dothraki and Unsullied captives forced to their knees; soldiers and militiamen stand at attention.
"The Queen! Stand to, men!" a veteran exclaimed.
"At ease," Sansa waved them off.
Another soldier paced in front of them. "In the name of King Daveth of the House Baratheon, the First of His Name, I sentence you to die," he said roughly.
"What do you think you're doing?"
"These men are responsible for so much devastation and ruin. We're giving them the justice they deserve."
His attitude reminds me of Lord Rickard Karstark. "And on whose authority do you have to make such a decision? Yours? I understand your grief and your anger, ser. I do. But you're not the only one who's lost people because of this war," Sansa dared. "Captain, did you give your men permission to brazenly act in this manner?"
"Wha…? No, Your Grace. But we were at war. These foreign savages are our prisoners now."
The Wolf Queen remained firm in her stance. "Be that as it may, laws are put in place for a reason. So we do not stoop to their level to the point where we ourselves become the very thing we ourselves struggle to defeat." She redirects her gaze towards the hot-headed soldier. "Tell me this, ser: When does it all stop? Do monsters make war? Or does war make monsters? Every reprisal by one is itself interpreted an act of aggression by the other, and every act of aggression triggers immediate reprisal. It's all part of this vicious cycle our King seeks to break."
"But they—"
"It all goes back and back, to our mothers and fathers and theirs before them," Tyrion interjected. "We are puppets dancing on the strings of those who came before us, and one day our own children will take up our strings and dance in our steads if that cycle isn't broken."
"Kill them in cold blood, then you become them. We will meet out justice for all who've been wronged by these people within full compliance to the rule of law," she cut him off. "They will stand trial to answer for their crimes. But until then, you will stand down and stay your hand. I should not have to remind you that under any circumstances no one is above the law. Take them to the cells. Bind them with every chain you can find."
"Yer mahrazhi arrekoon jin chiori? Yer're vo mahrazh finne ei! (You men take your orders from a woman? You're no man at all!)" one of the Dothraki captives cursed in their native tongue as they were being led away.
"And gag him!"
As the guards led the prisoners away, Sansa fixated her gaze upon the Red Keep high atop Aegon's High Hill. Following the wildfire explosions combined with the collision crash of Drogon and Rhaegal, many parts of the castle and its base sustained severe damage; three towers had collapsed, yet certain areas had surprisingly remained intact despite being in ruin. But that wasn't on Sansa's mind. No, her attention was focused on something else: Daenerys Targaryen. The Dragon Queen had threatened the lives of her family—Lyonel, Cassana, Torrhen, her unborn baby, Daveth, Robb, Jon, Arya… all of them, her friends… her subjects, the people under her care. Her eyes narrowed and her expression had darkened, darting in one particular direction.
Arya had known that look on her elder sister's face from their mother. Fiercely protective of their young pups when an intruder approaches and not one to be messed with if her family was placed in danger in any way, the mother wolf was on the prowl and already had her prey locked in her sights, bearing her teeth as the rest of her pack formed up.
"Robb, Arya," Sansa said in a low voice. "Ser Lucius, Ser Davos, Ariyana… you five come with me. Shae, Jeyne, watch over my children for me. Ser Jaime, you and the others stand guard over my husband. Don't let them out of your sight even for a minute."
"Sansa…" Robb tried to speak.
"We will find Jon. Though he is a Targaryen, he is still one of us. He's as much a Stark as we are."
Arya nodded in agreement. Just then, Bodrin and a few civilians came rushing down the hillside.
"Your Grace," Bodrin reported.
"Bodrin," Sansa acknowledged. "Did your team turn up anything?"
"We have, but only some. Daenerys Targaryen is still alive, badly wounded, but alive. She's was last seen making her way towards the Red Keep – accompanied by her handmaiden, the Unsullied's commander and the traitor Jaehaegon Velaryon."
Even with her forces routed, she still seeks the throne. "I see. Anything else?"
"Both her dragons had collided through multiple buildings before the crash landing. They're both buried underneath tons of rubble. We'd investigate more, but we couldn't risk taking any chances."
"What of my cousin?"
"Jon Sn— I mean, Aegon Targaryen… was dislodged from the smaller dragon. He's limping, but he's survived the fall and is in close pursuit of Daenerys."
"He'll need some back up," Robb mentioned. "I can gather as much my troops in case."
"No need for that, Lord Stark," Commander Duran announced. Accompanying him was a small contingent of 30 or 40 City Watchmen, spears in hand. "Our soldiers will need more time to assemble, yet they're a bit too preoccupied with routing the scattered remnants of the Targaryen armies. The City Watch, on the other hand, stands ready. I've ordered the rest of my men to protect the civilians and initiate a search-and-rescue mission for any survivors." He turns to Sansa. "We await your command, Your Grace. Whatever your decision, the gold cloaks stand ready."
Sansa nodded. "I appreciate it, Commander." You've run rampant for far too long, Daenerys Stormborn. But that stops now. "We've all lost so much. You know it, I know it. Whether it's from disease, hunger, war or other… but nothing we've endured compares to the amount of pain, death and destruction inflicted on us unnecessarily by Daenerys Targaryen and her ilk. You remember the Mad King, you remember the horrors he inflicted on us. Today his daughter has shown herself to be no different than him. We didn't ask for any of this to happen. It only takes a single spark to start a fire, but sometimes… Sometimes you have to take a stand against such injustice."
The City Watchmen slam their spear butts onto the ground, three times in perfect synch, affirming their pride in their sovereigns.
"It ends here with us – the war to end all wars. Today, we mark this moment as the day where we protect this nation from the fear of mysticism and tyranny. You are the shield that guards the realms of men. Never again will mothers mourn their children; never again will families be torn apart. Today, we usher in a new era; by our hands, we will make the world a better place for our sons, our daughters and their descendants. No more conflict, no more strife, no more wars. Men! In the name of my husband—our King—Daveth of the House Baratheon, the First of His Name… will you lend him your strength and at last make that dream a reality?"
"HA-OOH! HA-OOH! HA-OOH!"
Again, the gold cloaks slam their spear butts into the ground, again and again, eager to end the fight. Robb and Arya look at Sansa, studying her style of command; the Young Wolf was rather surprised to see how much his younger sister had grown from a naïve girl to a young woman—a Queen!—able to lead and inspire so many. She had become a powerful leader in her own right, a master of the game of thrones. With such vigor and purpose, they made their move.
Meanwhile…
Back at the Old Inn, Daveth had remained in a deep state; his chest rose and fell, sleeping. But his facial nerves began to twitch, catching the eyes of Myrcella and Tommen.
"Brother?" they said with surprise in their tone.
Jaime turned to see his nephew stirring in his sleep. Before anyone could blink, the Young Stag slowly opened his eyes and let out a gasp for breath.
"Papa! Papa!" Lyonel and Cassana exclaimed with glee.
"*Wah! Wah!*" Torrhen cried, not liking the increase in volume.
High Septa Rosyn, Shae, Jeyne, Trystane, Tyrion and Margaery all rose to their feet at the sound of the Baratheon twins announcing Daveth's awakening. As he moved sideways to set his foot on the ground, Myrcella and Tommen both rushed to him.
"Easy now! Easy, easy. Don't get up too fast," Myrcella placed a hand on her brother's chest.
Daveth said nothing but glanced around his new surroundings. His face was deadpanned, if not an almost brooding one. Tracing his fingers across from where Euron Greyjoy stabbed him, he felt nothing but his own skin. Somehow his wounds were healed! All that remained were the scars. The last thing he remembered before losing consciousness was Vaeraleah standing over him; when Daveth looked down at his feet, he recognized her red robes, but a pile of ashes on top of them before it was scattered across the floor.
So… she's gone. I'm back, again. But why? What for? Just so I could see all this?
He didn't ask to be brought back to life for the third time. For reason unknown, Daveth felt angry. Something wasn't sitting right with him at all. Once he was fully stabilized, the Young Stag again examined his surroundings.
"The Old Inn…" he said with a raspy voice.
"Yes, brother," Tommen answered. "We brought you here after—"
"Where is Sansa?"
The question sounded almost… harsh.
"She's… gone to the Red Keep. Our armies are mopping up the remaining Dothraki and Unsullied inside and out of the city. It's finally over. Despite the odds, we've won, brother. We did it."
"And you… let her go?"
"Robb Stark and his other sister have gone with her, along with a few guards," Jaime replied. "Why? Do you feel the need to still be protecting her from Daenerys?"
"I'm… not done yet. There's still one more thing that needs to be settled."
"Now?" Tyrion interjected. "Daveth, listen you just came back. Your sons and daughter—"
Ignoring his uncle, Daveth pushed past him.
"Hey! Well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. You never were the kind to sit still forever when a problem arises."
The High Septa approaches; examining Daveth up and down, she places both hands on his shoulders hopefully. "You've… you've been to the other side?" she asks. "Tell me: what did you see? Is there life after death?"
Daveth didn't look at her. "More than I could say in a short span of time," he answers. Glancing out the window, he now saw the devastation inflicted on the city. My home… "My fate was sealed the moment I chose to save my family alone. I accepted my fate. But these people… they did not."
"No, nephew. No, they didn't. The war is over now. To not only fend off an army of Dothraki, Unsullied and three dragons, but to defeat them as well… They said it couldn't be done – but you did it. The people you rallied did it," Tyrion said. "Daenerys Targaryen came to Westeros as a conqueror. She liberated the people of Yunkai. She liberated the people of Astapor. She liberated the people of Meereen. And she came here to go on liberating until they were free… and she rules them all, until you stood in her way."
"And now the conqueror has become the conquered."
"And now the conqueror has become the conquered."
"A lot of people died defending their homes," Daveth mused. He sounded so tired; fed up. Angry even. "But look at this! Look at the state King's Landing is in. I was born here. This is my home. Daenerys, Jon Connington and Euron Greyjoy… they terrorized them all. They just don't know when to stop! How many are still living now? How many more have to die before they're satisfied?" He turns to Tyrion.
"Would you have done it?"
"Done what?"
"I wasn't there at Winterfell, but Varys told me much about what happened before and after the battle against the undead… before Euron beheaded him in front of us," Tyrion explained. "He said you've been up there on the back of a dragon. You've wielded such supreme power none before you had ever had. Would you have done it? Would you have burned an entire city to the ground if it meant ending the war?"
Daveth shook his head. "I've destroyed the Iron Islands, uncle, and yet you ask me that ridiculous question," he paused – pondering the question. "I've made mistakes, and I try to not repeat them. Is that what you want to hear from me? What more do you want?"
"It matters more than anything. You won't say you fear of slipping again because you fear of slipping again. But you know." Tyrion looks up at Daveth. He just awoken from his slumber, after facing death a third time, but the Imp needs to make sure he is listening clearly. "You and Daenerys both share the same vision, but chose to walk down different paths to do it. If you believed that, if you truly believed it… wouldn't you kill whoever gets in your way?"
"I've made my choice at the shore. Revenge on the man who ruined my life or my family? I chose my family… because I love them, because they saved me from myself."
"Love is more powerful than reason. We all know that. We make stupid mistakes, but sometimes duty is the death of love. You've always tried to do the right thing. Always, no matter the cost, you've given everything you could. Negotiate trade deals, risk your life on the battlefield, assassinate people in their sleep… Who is the greatest threat to the people now?"
"Daenerys Targaryen." Daveth answers.
"And who is more dangerous to her at this very moment?"
"Me… and Jon Snow." No. It's Aegon Targaryen, last surviving son of Prince Rhaegar… Looking back at the Red Keep, he knows what he has to do. Getting up, he snatches a nearby knife and examines the blade. It was still sharp. Good. He'll need it. The safety and integrity of the Seven Kingdoms is my responsibility as its King. It must be me who does the deed, Tyrion. No one else could have done what I've did. You know this. For a long time, you've always known. I have to stay true to who I really am. "Myrcella, Tommen… you stay here. Keep my sons and daughter safe. Uncle Jaime, I need your help."
"What?" Myrcella and Tommen exclaimed.
"You're still intent on going up there?" There it is. Right there. That look in the eye. It's a killer's one. Cersei had that look too.
"Only a dragon can defeat a dragon. But only a sovereign can defeat another sovereign." He moves to leave, but a concerned dignitary stands in front of him. Daveth glares at him. "Get… out of my way," he says in a low, cold voice. Pressing a hand on the man's shoulder, the Young Stag shoves him aside. Not getting too far, Jaime takes off after him.
"Something's not right," Tyrion theorizes.
—At the Red Keep—
Amidst the ruins of the devastated city, the Starks—cool and hooded—turned to advance on the Red Keep. Walking past the ruined gates of the castle's entrance, the approach a nearby corner and see the wreckage up close and personal. The entryway is nearby.
Near the mountains of black and red rubble, the Starks saw the two dragons—Drogon and Rhaegal—buried underneath them. Rhaegal was apparently more visible, unconscious with the exception of a slight twitch or two; Drogon, on the other hand, was more unfortunate as his larger size made him an easy target for the avalanche of debris and ruin. Weighing tons, remains of one of the crumbled towers had collapsed onto Drogon's head, crushing its skull. Regardless, all in attendance were rather uneasy and moved cautiously yet silently to avoid the dragons. They weren't all too sure as if either one or both were still alive. They weren't taking any chances at all.
What they hadn't noticed, was a large green tail twitching up and down when they had passed…
By the time they reached the entryway, Robb and Arya spotted Jon. Still wielding Longclaw, he was steadily limping his way.
"Jon!" Arya hugged him. "Are you all right?"
"It's… nothing new," Jon shrugged. "Daenerys is heading for the throne room. Grey Worm, Missandei and Jaehaegon are with her."
"How bad is she?" Robb implores.
"I think she took the brunt of the crash, but it's like what Bodrin said. She's tougher than she looks."
"Then let's get it over with," Commander Duran stated.
Turning the corner, they arrive at the building that houses the throne room. With each passage, they stopped behind a nearby pillar upon hearing multiple voices. The language sounded foreign – likely in High Valyrian. Sansa glared at the intruders. Grey Worm and Jaehaegon had managed to somehow escape the carnage outside; bloodied and bruised, the carried a wounded Daenerys closer to the Iron Throne with Missandei's aid.
"Stand your ground. Wait for the opportune moment to present itself," the Wolf Queen whispers.
The Dragon Queen examines the half-demolished throne room; with no window behind the Iron Throne and portions of the Red Keep in ruins with scattered rubble from the fallen roof visible on the floor covered in a layer of snow, it looked like the one similar to the vision she received at the House of the Undying in Qarth years ago. Badly wounded, Daenerys slightly limped towards the Iron Throne—which remained relatively untouched aside from being covered with ash and snow. Open sky extends beyond it where the walls once stood. Connington's wildfire explosions made sure of that. The snow falls lightly through the collapsed roof
"Kesīr issa: se Dēmalion Āegenko. (Here it is: the Iron Throne.)" Grey Worm spoke up.
Jaehaegon nods. "Iā pyrys korzoti vēttan ilagon ondoso se perzyssy hen Balerion se Zōbrie Zūgagon. (A thousand swords forged by the fires of Balerion the Black Dread.)"
"Ziry iksos aōhon naejot gūrogon. Se Sīkuda Dārȳti iksis aōhon sir. (It's yours to claim. The Seven Kingdoms is yours now.)" Missandei encourages.
For a few seconds, Daenerys Targaryen—the conquering Dragon Queen—loses her façade and looks like a young girl again, entranced by the beauty of the moment and the object of her greatest desires. Walking past the twisted and broken waste, the Iron Throne was right there in front of her. Touching the hilt of one of the countless swords used to forge the throne, she faintly smiles; all her journeys, crossing two continents, the endless conflict… the temptation was there. It was all too real. All she had to do was sit on it and her journey is complete.
"Skori īlen riña, ñuha lēkia ivestretan nyke īles vēttan lēda iā pyrys korzoti hen aegon's fallen qrinuntyssy. (When I was a girl, my brother told me it was made with a thousand swords from my ancestor Aegon the Conqueror's fallen enemies.)" Daenerys tells them. "Skoros gaomagon iā pyrys korzoti jurnegon hae isse se pendagon hen mirrī riña qilōni kostagon daor ūñagon naejot lantēpsa? Nyke pendagon iā blēnon hen korzoti tolī eglie naejot hepnon. Sīr naenie ropagon qrinuntyssy, ao kostagon mērī ūndegon se soles hen Aegon's dekossa. (What do a thousand swords look like in the mind of a little girl who can't count to 20? I imagined a mountain of swords too high to climb. So many fallen enemies, you could only see the soles of Aegon's feet)."
But before the Dragon Queen could turn to sit, a tender moment was abruptly broken.
"Step away from the Iron Throne," a loud voice warned.
Daenerys angrily turns to see who it was; Sansa and her entourage had emerged from behind the pillar to confront her. The wolf and the dragon are now face-to-face with one another. Grey Worm and Jaehaegon raised their weapons in defense of their Queen, prompting Robb, Arya, Jon and the City Watch to do the same with theirs.
"You've got a lot of nerve to show your face here," Daenerys said through her gritted teeth as she stepped down to meet hem on the floor in front of the platform.
"And you have a lot of nerve to endanger so many innocent people with your selfishness, vanity and greed, Daneerys Stormborn. You've done more harm than good here," Sansa countered. "Look around you. Men, women and children from all corners of Westeros have had their homes and their lives taken from them unjustly. What was the point of it all?"
"I tried to make peace with Daveth. And he used their innocence as a weapon against me. He left me no choice."
"You gave him no choice either! He didn't want to do it, but you left him no choice. Don't think even for a second that you're the exception. So many had to pay the price… because of you, Euron and Connington."
"I would have burned them alive for going behind my back, but I needn't had bothered."
Ser Davos spoke up. "How much more blood do you want? Too many lives had been lost already! People are on their knees!"
"They're still breathing, aren't they?"
Sansa shook her head. "Breathing, yes, even the little children – but they're not going to be the same for quite some time. Lyonel, Cassana, Torrhen… as a mother, I have never seen my children so scared like that. Their tears, their innocent eyes looking up at me… wanting for the nightmare to stop… Had you been down there to see what your Hand has done to them? Burning, raiding, pillaging and rape? The amount of crimes your followers have committed are far too heinous to ignore."
"Especially after my contribution to save the North from the Night King?" Daenerys pressed. "I agreed to the armistice between your husband and myself so we could deal with the undead, at great cost to my armies and myself."
"A truce which was later violated by proxy if not publicly. We will never forget those who gave their lives defending Winterfell, but that doesn't mean that I want to kneel to someone who's threatened my family and friends. Being a Queen is more than just a fancy title; rather it is a woman looking out for the greater good of others. The people of this nation are her children, her responsibility to guide, nurture and protect as if they were her own blood."
"You think you'd know better?"
"I am a slow learner. It's true, but I learned nonetheless. You, on the other hand, have solidified yourself as Queen of the Ashes… or a Mad Queen. It's over. Lay down your weapons and we will ensure you receive a fair trial by a jury of your peers."
Despite the setbacks, Daenerys again stood her ground. "This will be the last chance I give. Surrender the Iron Throne, and I will consider naming your children as my heirs. Refuse and you will be ripped out root and stem."
You mean you'll take my children as hostages. Not a chance. You are not tearing another family apart.
"Even in the face of defeat, you still cling on to the delusions of grandeur," someone called out.
Sansa and Daenerys turned to see who else came and were both equally surprised to see Daveth stumbling his way into the throne room with Jaime accompanying him. Everything had now come full circle—Baratheon and Targaryen squaring off once more. As with Robert and Rhaegar, Daveth and Daenerys challenged each other for the fate of the Seven Kingdoms.
"D-Daveth? What are you…?" Sansa implored, but the Young Stag walked past her.
Daveth brushed a strand of black hair behind his ear. "Instead of being the savior you believed yourself to be, turns out that you are the danger this world needs saving from." He says as he approaches her.
"I freed slaves from their chains. I gave them their freedom!"
"You forget, Daenerys Targaryen, that this is Westeros – not Essos. Power and strength are one thing, but what good is it if you abuse it? What are the words of House Targaryen? Oh, yes. 'Fire and Blood.' Just how Aegon the Conqueror founded the Seven Kingdoms three hundred years ago. With fire and blood. But what did his legacy create? A cycle that will see no end. The Dance of the Dragons, five Blackfyre Rebellions, Robert's Rebellion… All these major power players fighting for control of a symbol, the source of so much pain and trauma."
"Daveth, what are you doing?" Robb called out.
The Young Stag raised a hand up, asking for silence.
"I brought hope! I brought change!" Daenerys shouted angrily.
"No. There were other options you could have taken, but that would've been too easy." Daveth refuted. "You faced win-win situations which allowed you to avoid making tough decisions like the rest of us had to. Building an army you didn't have to pay for, all the men you killed were 'evil'… hell, you even treat your friends and advisors as deferential servants instead of equals."
"How dare you."
"Silence!" Grey Worm barked. "You are not here to speak!"
"How unfortunate… that it is not for you to decide. This isn't your home. You are unwanted, uninvited strangers in someone else's home," the Young Stag said to him before looking back at the Dragon Queen. "Are you that incapable of telling the difference between right and wrong? Or do you just don't care?"
Daenerys stepped forward. "I know what is good. I know what is right."
"And all those people down there? What about them?"
The fire of the conqueror flares in her eyes. "They don't get to choose. It's not easy to see something that's never been done before. Not like the way I have. Do you still not understand? It is my destiny to free the world from tyrants and build a better one in its place for everyone. And I will serve it no matter the cost," she replies.
Daveth stares at her. "You think you know what is best for everyone when in actuality you don't. None of us do. That's why the true enemy, the miserable rot that eats away at who and what we are, needs to be destroyed here and now."
"So that's why you're here. To kill me. You're not the first person who tried it."
"Not just you. The source of it all… is right there," Daveth glances at the target behind her. "Do you still not understand? I'm ending all of this. If the dream to make the world a better place is to become a reality, then the Iron Throne needs to be destroyed. That's why I'm going to burn it down."
Everyone was utterly surprised by the Young Stag's declaration.
"You? Destroy the throne my family created?"
"So many have killed each other for the right to sit on it, to control the fate of so many. The greater the power, the temptation to misuse it. It's the temptations of ultimate power that corrupts even the best of us. No person can ever rule justly if their control is unchecked by important restraints. Which is why such corruption needs to be removed… permanently." He stares her down. "So… I'm only going to say this one last time. Step aside and surrender… or refuse and die." Go on. Try me. I dare you. For as long as you live, you'll always be a danger those I'm sworn to protect.
Her fists shaking, Daenerys exploded. "I… am THE RIGHTFUL QUEEN OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS! THE DRAGON'S DAUGHTER! YOU'LL PRY THE THRONE FROM MY COLD, DEAD FINGERS!" she screamed in defiance. Her face was red with anger and her violet eyes narrowed at her enemy. "Torgo Nudho, Jaehaegon, gūrogon zirȳla! Jaelan bisa vala morghe! (Grey Worm, Jaehaegon, seize him! I want this man executed!)"
And so it ends. Your coin landed on the wrong side. "Commander, take them into custody. Keep them alive… if you can. Either way, it doesn't matter."
Grey Worm and Jaehaegon came forward with their weapons flying through the air, but are immediately countered by the gold cloaks. Although the City Watchmen were relatively untrained soldiers and only law enforcement officials, they did slow them down long enough for Jaime and Ariyana to spring into action. Lucius remained behind to protect Sansa and the others. The Wolf Queen was taken aback at how quickly the situation escalated and looked at her husband. He looked perfectly calm and composed, apparently unconcerned before she spotted a small knife sliding out of his pocket.
Daveth… what have you done?
Disarming the Velaryon of his rapier, Ariyana impaled the Dragon Queen's lover through the torso before swinging Dawn around to decapitate him. The Sword of the Morning watched as Jaehaegon's headless body spurted blood and slumped to the ground; meanwhile, the City Watchmen backed off a wounded Grey Worm who still held them off with his spear and shield, cursing at them as Jaime intervened. The Kingslayer briefly stumbled back at the warrior-eunuch's ferocity. Missandei screamed in terror as Daenerys looked on in disbelief; her lover was swiftly killed before her very eyes. Glancing at her best military commander, she could only watch as the brief skirmish quickly turn into Jaime's favor – who snapped Grey Worm's spear in half before bringing his sword up and back down fast and hard into the Unsullied commander's neck, nearly cutting his head off.
So close and yet so far, Daenerys felt her dreams of completing her dreams quickly slipping away. Feeling with nothing left to lose at this point, the Dragon Queen hurriedly picked up the broken spear tip in her hands and darted past Jaime and towards Daveth. As the reality set in that with the defeat of her armies, the loss of her dragons… this was the end. Daveth, having anticipated such a move, quickly sidestepped despite having shaky legs to avoid the multiple, undisciplined swings. As Daenerys moved to thrust the spear tip forward, Daveth grabbed her wrist and held her long enough for him to unveil the knife and thrust his right arm forward.
*KLSHUK!*
"Ack!"
Daenerys's eyes widen suddenly as she draws a sharp breath. Daveth stares coldly at her. For a moment, neither monarch moves. Panting, the Dragon Queen gasps and looks down to see Daveth with his hand on the hilt of the knife lodging into her heart. The Young Stag pushes forward, sinking the blade deeper until the wooden hilt was forcibly shoved. His skin was touching her leather dress, blood seeped onto his hand.
"Do you feel that?" Daveth whispered. And now the rains weep o'er halls, and no one left to hear. "That was for everyone you killed. The oppression of the Targaryen dynasty will never return. For good this time. May the Stranger take you in its cold embrace."
Daenerys feels her strength quickly leaving her and she collapses on to the ground, her arms clawing at Daveth, her eyes glaze in pain stares up at him in disbelief who then pushes her off of him. She takes shallow, panting breaths as small rivulets of blood run from her mouth and nose before letting out a gurgling death rattle. Her body twitched for a moment before finally stopped moving.
"AAAAAAH!" Missandei screamed.
Sansa, Robb, Arya and Jon all glanced at Daveth – who stared down at Daenerys's corpse, watching her life's blood seeping into the snow-covered stones of the Red Keep's throne room. The remaining City Guards—led by Commander Duran—moved to swiftly apprehend Missandei and led her away into custody, still screaming and thrashing against her captors. Once the shouts faded away, Sansa moved closer to her husband.
"Daveth," she placed a hand on his shoulder, "what have you done?"
"Ending the war," he answered.
Robb approached. "We were going to have them put on trial! They were going to answer for their crimes and be punished accordingly."
Jon chimed in. "The war was already over when reinforcements arrived! We need a world of mercy. Just and fair!"
Daveth turned to face him. "Which can be wasted on those who abuse it. Look at Yara Greyjoy for instance. I chose to be merciful, but she threw it all away," he says. "Diplomacy and negotiations work best when utilized properly, but difficult when someone already perceives you as a threat, Jon Snow… or should I say, Aegon Targaryen?"
Something was definitely not right. Daveth shook his head and grunted, placing a hand over his head in discomfort. His wounds were healed, yet he felt a great headache coming already. Before any further arguments could be held, the sound of beating wings come closer accompanied by something menacing.
"*Raaaah!*"
Everyone quickly turned to the large gap in the wall. Much to their surprise, Rhaegal was revealed to have survived the crash landing against its larger, more powerful brood sibling and shook the throne room's foundations. Its wings fell to its side, displacing enough air to cause Daveth redirect his focus from his headaches to the green dragon.
Rhaegal hissed and growled – causing many people, with the exception of Jon and Daveth, to quickly back away to provide a rather wide birth. The dragon scrambles slowly towards Daenerys, sniffing and nuzzling Daenerys's body and coos. When she doesn't move, Rhaegal again tries to nudge her more firmly – but to no avail. Realizing that its mother was dead, the dragon shook its head in anguish and rises on its hind legs, towering over all in attendance. In a striking and vivid representation of unleashed rage, Rhaegal rears back and spreads its wings, balancing on its haunches, roaring a deafening roar to the sky.
"*RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! WOAAAAAAAA! REEEEEEEEAAAAGHH!*"
Landing back onto the ground, Rhaegal looks down at Daveth.
"DAVETH! JON! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! GET OUT OF THERE!" Sansa called out to them.
"GET BACK! QUICKLY!" Robb hollered.
But they didn't move. Jon sensed a great amount of anger coming from the dragon; Daveth, meanwhile, looks up at it.
"You know who's responsible for this. You know what must be done."
Rearing its head back, Rhaegal opens its jaws to reveal a fiery glow building up in its throat.
"DAVETH! JON!"
Daveth still remained motionless. Locking eyes with the dragon, he nodded. "Dracarys," he said.
*WHOOOOOSSHH!*
Turning its head right, Rhaegal unleashed a large blast of conflagration towards the Iron Throne. Sansa, Robb, Arya, Jon, Jaime, and Ariyana raised their arms up to cover themselves from the intense heat. Daveth slightly raised his as well, yet looked at the event taking place with narrow eyes. Rhaegal lets loose another round of inferno, extending its neck past so it could continue burning with another unyielding flame. Daveth watched as the Iron Throne became engulfed in dragon fire; in seconds, the iconic monument and seat of power turned reddish-orange, then white until it finally began slowly losing its form. The sword tips on the Iron Throne's brackets glowed, melted and bend, followed by the armrests and the seat itself turning a glowing, smoldering amorphous slag under the intense heat.
After several minutes of unleashing fire, Rhaegal closed its mouth shut and ceases its assault. When the smoke cleared, all that remained in the center of the room was a molten, flaming heap of magma where the Iron Throne once stood. Daveth stared at it blankly; he should have been relieved, but felt numb. Was it worth it all? To break the cycle he vowed? All those lives lost to make it so? The Young Stag had faced death and came back three times; right now, he just wanted it all to stop. He looked up to see Rhaegal staring at him, growling.
"Go home, boy. Remember your mother for who she was, not what she's become," Daveth motioned.
Rhaegal hissed and lowered its head towards Daenerys' lifeless body, delicately picking her up with its hind claw. Taking one last glance at its rider, Daveth nodded again and motioned forward. Spreading its wings with a heavy thrust, Rhaegal took flight through the missing roof, launching over the remains of the Iron Throne, giving a final roar as it flies away in the distance with Daenerys's lifeless body clutched in its claws. Flying out towards the eastern skies over Blackwater Bay, the heavy thick clouds were gray and lifeless as more snow fell.
"*RAaaaaaaaaaaaah!*"
Daveth and Jon watch Rhaegal fade away. With the dragon gone, everyone could now focus on the reconstruction effort that was bound to take place once the army's reinforcements finished seizing the remaining Unsullied and Dothraki.
"Report! Our allies had just finished their sweep. We should get going soon and search for any remaining survivors," Duran motioned towards his men.
As the gold cloaks left, Robb and Arya motioned for Jon to follow them out of the throne room. Sansa, however, stayed behind for a while with Jaime, Lucius and Ariyana; all three stared at Daveth who continued staring out the missing rooftop. The Wolf Queen then made her move, approaching her husband and pulled him aside. Finally redirecting his attention towards his wife, Daveth was expecting a certain response from her.
Sure enough, he got his answer.
*CRACK!*
Raising her right hand up, Sansa swung left and slapped Daveth in the face. His face jerked to the side, leaving a red handprint. It didn't hurt him, but he didn't care if it did. Normally he would have asked what it was he possibly could have done, but Daveth said nothing and took the hit. Sansa looked particularly upset at her husband and turned to accompany the rest of her family out of the Red Keep.
"Our children need us right now. We will talk more later," she tells him.
Now alone, Daveth glanced again out of the roof and down at the floor; blood splattered across the floor, the molten slag sliding down where the Iron Throne once stood. Either way, he felt that now with what he believed to be the source of the Seven Kingdoms' suffering had been eliminated. He did it not because no one should ever keep it, but the potential for greater abuse of power and another possible tyrant on the throne was too much for anyone else to endure any longer.
In the end, the War for Westeros had reached its conclusion. For the first time, not even dragons proved to be enough to conquer a continent. A united Seven Kingdoms under the rule of House Baratheon had driven the remnants of House Targaryen back across the Narrow Sea, never to return again. Rich and poor, young and old regardless of house allegiances put aside their differences to put a stop to the meaningless strife of an enemy that had lost its way and fought to reclaim what they believed to be theirs. The hammer of the new conqueror had come crashing down on the would-be foreign invaders.
Not anymore. Never again. Gone were the old traditional ways—relics of the past—giving way for the new generation to rise from the ashes.
"Bound by the dreams of the dead; the final throes of a dead, decaying bloodline." He told himself.
Daveth turned around and walked away. For now, there was a lot on his mind; matters that he needed to tend to once he was well enough. With the war over, it was time to turn his attention towards domestic affairs.
Chapter End
Author's Note: Well, that's it, guys. The war is over between the stags of House Baratheon and the dragon kings of House Targaryen. Upon the advice of a reader, I tried to stray from the canon in certain areas as much as I could – but what are your guys' impressions? The royal armies' other half arrived as reinforcements and had begun to swiftly turn the tide in House Baratheon's favor long enough to secure victory, however huge the losses were. Sansa had to take up the reins of leadership as well as confront Daenerys herself in the throne room. Jon Snow survived the crash landing, yet got a bad limp in his left leg. Rhaegal survived, but Drogon got his head crushed in by one of the Red Keep's massive towers collapsing on him. Daveth woke up and confronted Daenerys and gave the order to end the Queen of the Ashes himself at the Battle of King's Landing, albeit it didn't match up to the battle between Robert and Rhaegar at the Battle of the Trident. And what of Sansa's actions and Daveth's words towards the end? What did it imply? The series is getting closer to the end. So stay tuned for more updates!
Aries90: Another Great Chapter if you are going to the constitional monarch route just don't have Bran Stark be king please
Wannabe-Freak: I spent the last week or two just to catch up with the story, and honestly, it's one of the, if not THE best game of thrones story I've ever read. Can't wait to see what happens next!
fiend89: Soo...will the Kingdoms split up again.
James: This has been a fascinating ride. I need to compliment you with your writing and also how much it has improved with time. The battle was described well and entertaining. My main compliment would be that you do explore the motivations of your characters well and provide a clear understanding of there points. Even when we as the reader are annoyed or furious by the actions of some of the antagonists (Daenerys, Euron, Connington) it makes sense from their twisted point of view. I am curious if we will see the power of Westeros expand to slavers bay or what the future holds for Daveth. Perhaps he will follow a path similar to that of England with the distribution of power, or maybe he will follow more the path of the First Roman Emperor Augustus by leading his nation to a rise of Empire. Fascinated to see what you have planned. Side note thank you for providing such an amazing story and a different (and better) ending for the Game of Thrones series.
noobie53: Good lord, this was a hell of a ride!
Tohka123: Really enjoyed, was quite entertaining. Keep up the hard work
Einstein's Mistakes: Can Daveth be the Emperor of both Westeroes and Essos territories that Daenerys conquered?
King Crow: Literally a story of the year
Felon GT: Still a monarchy sytem but total powers will be shared. Like the times in the modern age england where king no longerhas full power. Powerful but kings words are not always law . If this OC can now bring westeros to a reinassance.
C.E.W: So it is finally over, Daveth Baratheon and his supporters have triumphed over Daenerys Targaryen and her forces. Connington and Euron are dead, and so ends the major opposition to Daveth's rule once and for all. So much has been destroyed, there is much work to do, and reconstruction to build in the devastation of the wars since Robert Baratheon's death.
Perhaps now they can build something better that all of those who died, and who of those whose lived, whose hard service has been rewarded for them and their families.
Daveth will need to meet with the other High Lords to convene on the next step of how the realm should go. No one is going to challenge Daveth given that he has won every war he has fought, and has proven himself a great ruler. Most respected and revered ruler since Jaehearys the Conciliator.
As for the slap well, I suspect it was for Daveth endangering his life by going with no back up.
Masso 2010: dude, I cannot say how happy I am with this. this is the best Game of Thrones story ever and it goes without saying that it's so fucking better then the show, you even did the mad queen (which was the stupidest thing the show did) and turned it into something amazing. I can't wait for the epilogue. Literally can't, I need a good ending to this for the closure.
Hear My Fury: Finally! Okay, I waited until this was finished before putting in a review. Holy Crap that was ten times better than the show! Dany's turn to madness made a million times more sense that in the show (even though I felt that even in season 1 she wasn't opposed to the idea of rape and murder, just look at her reaction to Drogo's speech). Euron got a much better death than in the show, check out Mauler's An Unbridled Rage at episode 5 and get to Euron's part to understand the outrage I felt about his character in canon. It made sense for him to be killed by Daveth, he has a personal connection with him as opposed to Jaime killing him and he gets another Kingslayer moment? Yeah, that was stupid, but not here. Yara dying was good too, makes sense why you kept Theon alive, he's gonna make the Greyjoy name better. Connington got a really good death as well, he was mad with overthrowing the Baratheons that he failed to see the bigger picture, that after the war, no one would ever support the Targaryens again and the houses of Westeros would be demolished. And finally, Daenerys, the Mad Queen, Targaryen, just like her brother Rhaegar was killed by a Baratheon. Kind of felt like George Lucas' saying, "It's like poetry, it rhymes." I honestly liked that you kept Jaehaegon loyal to the end, because with Jon it made so much less sense for him to be loyal to her even as she burned the city down. Also, Rhaegal lives but Drogon dies? Makes sense once again. And he'll probably be carrying Dany off to Valyria and just live there. And Grey Worm dying? Good. I wanted him dead for years and I felt like he needed to die because in canon, it made zero sense keeping him alive, so Jon's going to the Wall to serve a life sentence and he leaves for Naath? Makes sense if you're D&D. I believe though in terms of Daveth, he will need a long conversation with his entire family, both Baratheon, Lannister and Stark to sit him down and quite loudly tell him to stop doing things on his own from now on. Now, as to the future, I still say no electoral Monarchs, it's never going to work. That being said I do think that if the Hand of the King is elevated like a Prime Minister, elected for a period of time by one of two parties, before stepping down and Daveth and his family still remain as the monarchs could work. Just like Queen Elizabeth II herself, she's still the queen and has to be for stability. Also Jon should voluntarily take the Black again. Actually you could even have Bran accompany him saying something like "I need to find out more about the Walkers, I have a feeling their magic isn't entirely gone." And have Bran go Beyond the Wall as well as Jon. Fits perfectly with both their characters. Anyway, great job at doing this story! I hope you do another one, maybe a Stark OC? A Lannister one? Who knows?
Guest #2: Please don't make it where monarchy's are voted
Guest #1: What will happen to Missandei?
—Stay tuned for more updates
The Three Stoogies: A great chapter and I agree with bio about electing the monarch did not work out well for Poland in the end.
Ozilla: I will say that Daveth will make some kind of parliament of some kind to limit the iron throne power so that no one person can have all the power or something like. Not a lot of people like the original ending of the show but after watching it again it made some sense. Dany was never really put in a 'win-lose' situation before. She never asked herself is what she is doing was right or was wrong and the people she saved fed her ego and 'God-complex' that only she knows what best which is not true. In 'GOT' the main player for throne were Jon, Cersi and Dany. In the final 2 seasons we saw how they interact with their situations. Jon the compromising neutral guy, someone who was able to see past the wrongs that his family suffer through the actions of the Lannisters and Targaryens and was willing to work together with them. Cersi the selfish queen who blames others for her faults/mistakes yet as accepted the fact she is cruel and never shy away from that fact. Dany the child queen someone who never had to face a 'win-lose' situation had people ignoring her saying that she was not their savior which made her angry. The second half of season 8 showed us that Dany is still a child or had a child like view of the world she believed if she saved the people they hail her as their savior and the god's favor her. But she kept losing, losing and losing ripping away at her god complex so when the final battle between her and Cersi she already figure out that even if she is the 'savior' of the 7 kingdoms they will not love her and so they are wrong so she burned the heretics. So I had no problems with the final 2 episodes of 'GOT'. People might say Tryion suggestion of a elected monarch is a bad idea. That their will be many wars. True but when ever their are humans their will be war that is our nature. Tryion idea may seem bad in the short term but in the long term if there are good kings and some bad kings the people will learn from the success and failures which will change how the kings are elected.
RHatch89: Awesome update, I hope Daveth remains king :)
MazMan3: Excellent chapter and I honestly feel a great amount of sympathy for both Daveth and Sansa. One has been at deaths door thrice but manages to do what's best for his kingdoms and the other has had to witness so much pain to not only themselves but their family, yet she still desperately attempts to make things better. Honestly these two are the only ones who can help each other to find peace, but the way things are now...well we'll see.
TehStorm: Great chapter,i have to admit that i am a bit disapointed that daenerys won't be put through trial for her crimes where all the lords of westeros would look down and condem and curse her.
Also,i really hope daveth won't become mentally unstable after this and won't take some crazy action like give up the crown or try to fight jon for being a targaryen,what he should do is just re-built,with daenarys dead and jon bending the knee the baratheon's are now more then ever the true monarch with no one to challenge it.
Anyway,are planning on making another GOT fiction?I can only imagine that you must be tired after 171 chapters.
—Probably some huge mental exhaustion considering what's happened. Also I haven't given much thought about a possible second GOT fanfiction. I'll think about it once this one is done.
mbj: great chapter on trials and tribulations of the oath keeper, so can you please put up the next chapter to the story now please
Randa1: ahora viene lo mas dificil, la reconstrucción
now comes the most difficult, reconstruction
Dovahkiin1503: And so the lies and manipulations of Jon Connington took another two lives (Daenerys and Drogon). It would have been very hard for Daenerys to see the truth after all those years of lies and manipulations.
The three main villains of this story were Connington, Greyjoy and the Night King. Daenerys was more of an secondary villain and from a certain point of vieuw even a victim.
Bio RL: I hope Daveth doesn't do something silly like letting the monarchs be elected by vote, that would only lead to more wars in the long run.