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Chapter 66

The Dragonpit stood atop the Hill of Rhaenys, its huge dome collapsed in ruin. The immense doomed castle was raised by the Targaryens of old, its blackened walls a reminder of its dark history to the people of King's Landing.

Selene Snow flew around the Hill of Rhaenys, watching soldiers march their lords up the hill for the summit. From this high, she could not tell who was who. They are all one people from up here. If only that were true.

She was wondering where Jon was in the thrall when Rhaegal turned toward his brothers on his own accord.

As sudden as a storm, Drogon and Viserion circled Rhaegal. The dragons screeched playfully, the three of them flying in interweaving circles in a sort of dance.

Selene laughed at their reaction, hearing another's laughter in the wind.

"Welcome back, Selene!"

Selene couldn't help herself. Despite the worry that gnawed at her, she laughed and called back to Daenerys, "Good to be back!"

Daenerys Targaryen grinned, her silver hair catching the sunlight. For a moment, Selene remembered them as they were in Meereen…friends, confidants, kin. She could have flown like that forever, until Drogon began his descent.

Selene followed.

Rhaegal's shadow fell over the scorched stones as he beat his wings to a slow. Drogon landed on the stone steps facing the crimson pavilion with a boom that shook the pit. Rhaegal landed beside his brother, his emerald plates blinding in the sun. Both dragons let our ear-splitting roars at the men below, before leaning forward and clawing their way down to the marquee.

Selene slowly dismounted, her eyes on her mother as she walked beside Daenerys. Rhaegal and Drogon leaned on their back legs and took off, leaving a great cloud of dust in their wake.

As the dirt settled, Cersei Lannister stood, looking at Selene as if she'd seen a ghost. That can't be her. Selene had never seen her mother's hair cut so short. Her golden locks closely framed her face, her usual cloth-of-gold and velvet gowns replaced by a one that looked more like armour. On her head was a crown Selene had never seen before, a twisted work of silver that looked like the sun.

As Daenerys turned to her side of the pavilion, where her court awaited her, Selene went to Cersei's tent. Instead of walking to her mother or Uncle Jaime, Selene faced Euron Greyjoy.

If her mother looked shocked to see her, it was nothing compared to Euron's face. He left me for dead on the other side of the world, yet here I stand. For all his boasting of the wonders he had seen on his voyages, he paled when Selene faced him.

The dagger in her boot had never felt heavier. She wanted to sink it into his chest, into the same spot where he had killed her. Instead, she reached forward and drew Stormsbane from his scabbard.

The Lannister guards aimed their spears.

Selene looked down at her sword. The black steel glinted in the light. The golden stag pommel was exactly as she remembered it. A ghost of a smile rose to her lips as she slid the sword into her own scabbard, before turning and joining Daenerys' pavilion.

Daenerys sat in the centre, Tyrion and Aegon to either side. Olenna Tyrell sat, as did Arianna Martell, Myrcella, Varys, Jorah, Missandei, the Greyjoy siblings…with no chair left for Selene. I am a commoner here, Selene reminded herself. It doesn't matter what a few stormlords say. Selene didn't feel like a commoner with Stormsbane on her hip, her Baratheon black dress with its golden antler detailing on her chest, her silver stag brooch on her collarbone and her silver rings heavy on her fingers. She felt very much like the Lady of Storm's End, but she made her way to stand at the far end of Daenerys' pavillion.

Selene's heart leapt in her throat when she saw Jon across the way. He sat between Ser Davos and Lady Brienne, who surely spoke for his sister and the north. Jon met her eyes. His expression was serious, but it softened slightly when he looked at her. Selene wanted nothing more than to rush forward and into his arms, but she made her spine as straight as steel and waited.

Cersei was watching Selene, her expression odd.

Daenerys nodded at Tyrion, who stood and made his way to the centre of the pit so he could address them all.

"We are all facing a unique-"

"Beloved niece and nephew!"

All eyes turned to Euron Greyjoy, who sat with his legs spread wide, "I sit the Seastone Chair. Submit to me, and I'll spare your worthless lives."

Selene glanced at Jon, his jaw clenched so tight she feared his teeth would turn to dust.

Tyrion raised his brows, "I think we ought to begin with larger concerns."

"Then why are you talking? You're the smallest concern here."

Tyrion eyed Theon, "Remember when we discussed dwarf jokes?"

Theon leaned forward in his chair, "His wasn't even that good."

Euron stood, stepping closer to Tyrion as a challenge.

Selene couldn't help remembering the last time she saw Euron Greyjoy rush forward. She drew her sword and went to Tyrion's side. Selene's hand gripped her pommel tight, readying herself to shield Tyrion from the pirate's murderous unpredictability.

Euron narrowed his eyes at Tyrion, pretending Selene wasn't there, "In the Iron Islands, we kill those like you at birth. A mercy for the parents."

Selene snarled, "In King's Landing, we kill those like you for peace. A mercy for the realm."

"Sit down, Euron, or leave." Cersei commanded.

Euron grinned, shooting Selene a wink before turning back to his chair.

Tyrion gave Selene a look and nodded. She sheathed her sword and went back to her place.

Tyrion cleared his throat. "We are a group of people who don't like each other," Tyrion began. "We have suffered at each other's hands. We have lost people we love at each other's hands. If all we wanted was more of the same, there would be no need for this gathering. We are entirely capable of waging war against each other without meeting face to face."

Cersei smirked, "So instead we should settle our differences and live together in harmony?"

"That will never happen."

"Then why are we here?"

Jon stood, "This isn't about living in harmony. It's just about living."

Cersei tapped the arm of her chair with a finger, strangely reminding Selene of how she did the same at Storm's End.

"The same thing is coming for us all," Jon said, "A general you can't negotiate with, an army that doesn't leave corpses behind on the battlefield. Lord Tyrion tells me a million people live in this city. They're about to become a million soldiers in the army of the dead."

"I imagine for most of them it would be an improvement," remarked her mother coolly.

Jon was less amused, "This is serious. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't."

"I don't think it's serious at all. I think it's a bad joke. If my brother Jaime is informing me correctly, then you're asking for my surrender."

"Yes," said Daenerys. "All you have is this city. Surrender now and I'll allow you to keep your life. That's all."

"That's all? Surrender and stand down or you'll burn my capital to the ground?"

"Your capital will be safe if you surrender. You have my word."

"The word of a would-be usurper."

"No words can undo the last thirty years of wrongdoing," Tyrion said sharply, "but all you have is King's Landing."

"Casterly Rock-"

"-was won. The Unsullied hold the Rock."

Cersei glanced at Jaime angrily, before holding Selene in her gaze, "Thanks to my own blood."

Selene felt the girl inside her shrink, but she forced her chin to lift.

"How it came to be is no matter," said Tyrion. "The fact is…the war is over. King's Landing will fall under our siege within the year. This is your only choice. Surrender and live, or hold…and countless of your own people will starve to death."

Cersei gripped the arms of her chair tightly. She will hold, Selene knew. She would rather fight and die than surrender and live.

"I need time to consider this," Cersei said. "I wish to speak with my daughters on the matter."

Selene and Myrcella exchanged a look.

"Your daughters-" Daenerys began.

"-are right there, unless my eyes deceive me. I will speak only to them." Cersei stood. "I'll be in the Tower of the Hand." With that, Cersei took her leave, her court and her Lannister soldiers following in her wake.

Selene walked to the center of the pavilion, her cloak stirring in the breeze as she watched the back of her mother's guard.

Daenerys walked to her side, "I don't like this."

Selene raised her brows, "Neither do I…" she turned, meeting Dany's violet eyes with her own, "but I don't see much of a choice. I either speak with her, or we all leave and we're exactly where we started."

Daenerys didn't look convinced, "We still need to speak of the stormlands." She eyed Selene's garb. "It seems they've bent the knee."

They have, though not to you. "It's complicated. We need to discuss-"

Tyrion interrupted, "We can speak of the stormlands later. What are we going to do about Cersei?"

"Let the girls try and speak sense to their mother," said Lady Olenna, "The worse Cersei can do is say no."

"Or kill me," Selene said indifferently.

Myrcella stood, "Mother would never kill you."

"She wouldn't," Jon said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. He'd heard much and worse about Cersei from Sansa and Selene. "Would she?"

Tyrion shook his head, "Cersei loves her children more than life. It's her only redeeming quality. That and her cheekbones."

Mother would never hurt me, and yet…"I did kill her father," Selene thought aloud. "And now I stand against her on dragonback."

"She could do more than kill you," said Daenerys, "She could imprison you both. Hold you hostage and demand that the stormlands and Dorne stand down in your names."

And what name is that? Selene thought, but held her tongue.

"Surely she knows the war is over?" said Ser Garlan, "The country stands against her. She can't possibly hope to win."

Arianne Martell crossed her arms, "Lannisters are cruel and proud. She doesn't have enough mercy in her to protect her people. She would rather them all die, so she can be queen of their bones."

Selene and Tyrion exchanged a glance. Arianne speaks, and Oberyn's voice comes out.

Aegon rubbed his chin, "It seems there's no choice. They have to try."

"But their safety-" said Daenerys.

She still cares about me. "We'll be alright. Rhaegal will be with us."

"Our mother would never harm us," said Myrcella, "but she will try to divide us. Turn us against each other and…" her sister glanced at the dragon queen, "you."

Mistrust flashed in Daenerys' eyes, "Is there any chance she may succeed?"

"Never," Selene said quickly, not giving Myrcella the opportunity to hesitate.

Daenerys looked as if she wanted argue further, but she only swallowed hard, and nodded.

Jon took a half-step toward Selene, before stopping himself, glancing about the pavilion as all the lords and ladies of the realm looked on. A week is too long to be without him. Selene was itching to embrace him, too.

After a moment, Jon sighed resolutely, "Hells," he said, before walking up to Selene, sliding one hand behind her neck and kissing her deeply.

Selene smiled against his mouth, leaning into him. For a moment, it was as if they were alone in the world.

And then they remembered they weren't.

Jon pressed his forehead against hers, "I've missed you," he said so only she could hear.

Selene blushed furiously, whispering, "And I, you. Always a penchant for the dramatic. With the whole realm looking on, you really should err on the side of chastity."

"I don't know the meaning of the word."

Selene failed to stifle her laughter.

Tyrion cleared his throat.

Jon stepped back, extending a hand, "Good luck," he said politely.

Selene raised a brow, before taking his hand with a suppressed smile, "Thank you."

A screech from above. Rhaegal descended on the pit.

"Walk with me," Daenerys said.

With one last look at Jon, Selene nodded, she and Myrcella following the dragon queen to Rhaegal's side.

"You said the situation in the stormlands is complicated." Daenerys said when the three of them were alone. "What did you mean?"

Selene sighed, "I think we should speak with our mother first. Tyrion should be here, too."

Myrcella gave her an odd look.

"Very well." Daenerys' eyes landed on Selene's stag brooch, "You've taken some keepsakes from Storm's End."

They are mine by right. "I have," Selene said warily.

There was a strange look in Daenerys' eyes, but as soon as it came, it went. "Good luck with your mother."

Selene smiled, "Thank you, Your Grace. We'll be back as soon as we can."

Daenerys nodded solemnly, "We await your return."

As the queen moved away, Selene mounted Rhaegal, reaching down to help Myrcella up after her.

Her sister was oddly quiet.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Selene sighed, "I can tell when you're lying."

Myrcella narrowed her eyes, "So can I. What happened in the stormlands?"

I remembered my father. I remembered myself.

Selene didn't answer. She only turned, gripped Rhaegal's emerald plates, and braced herself as the dragon took off, carrying the sisters toward their childhood home.

###

Rhaegal landed in the small courtyard at the top of the Tower of the Hand.

Jaime Lannister was waiting for them there. His eyes found Myrcella and stayed there. "Myrcella. You…look well."

"Thank you, Uncle Jaime. It's good to see you, too."

They haven't spoken since the truth came out, Selene realized.

Jaime looked like he wanted to say more on the matter, but he cleared his throat, turned to Selene and said happily, "It seems Euron Greyjoy lied to us."

Selene raised a brow, "Oh, did he? How so?"

Jaime's eyes were cloudy, "He said you'd fallen from your dragon. I'll be honest, niece, it sounded like a rather embarrassing way to die."

Selene didn't smile. "He wasn't lying."

Jaime frowned, "What-

"I died, just not the way he said."

Jaime's frowned deepened, "I don't get the jest."

"It's not a jest. Euron Greyjoy sunk a blade just below my heart."

"She was dead, Uncle," Myrcella said seriously, as if she was afraid speaking on the matter would make it true once more, "I prayed over her body."

Jaime hesitated, his brows furrowing deeper. He cleared his throat, "Tell me, then...how did you come back to life?"

"A red priestess from Asshai-"

Jaime held up his hands, "Fine, don't tell me the truth."

He thinks we're lying, Selene thought, I can hardly blame him. I scarcely believe it myself.

"What you can do, however, is explain how the Unsullied knew where to find my army. Did it surprise you to see me alive?"

Selene looked away, "I asked their commander to take you alive. When I heard your army fell, the first thing I did was ask after you. The relief I felt when Olenna Tyrell told me you had escaped…" Selene sighed, meeting her uncle's eyes, "I'm sorry. I was told to take the Rock."

"And you obeyed your dragon queen." Jaime narrowed his eyes. "You've changed so much since you crowned yourself queen."

He's right. I have, but she felt more herself since Storm's End. Selene eyed the door to the Hand's chambers. "Did you speak with her?"

"I tried, until she kicked me out. She thinks I was an idiot to abandon the Rock. A lot of people seem to agree, actually."

Selene raised a brow, "I'm about to step into a room with one of the most dangerous women in the world, and I've killed her father, taken her ancestral home and given it to the dragon queen. Who's an idiot?"

"I suppose we should say goodbye, one idiot to another," Jaime said with a smile. He stepped aside to let them pass.

Selene moved forward, before hesitating, turning to her uncle, "This war goes beyond houses and honor and oaths. This is about survival."

"You don't believe Ned Stark's dolt bastard-"

"Don't call him that." Selene said viciously.

Jaime's eyes widened, "So it's true. I didn't believe it at first, but…you really married him, didn't you?"

Selene held his gaze.

Jaime gave a low whistle, "I didn't think you had it in you to be so disloyal to your queen."

Selene took a step closer, lowering her voice, "Perhaps you should consider disloyalty to yours."

Jaime looked taken aback, "You can't be serious."

"Deadly. Uncle Jaime, the war is over. You know that. All you have is what remains of the Lannister army, and they are here within the city walls. The country is lost. All you have is the capital. You won't survive a siege, you know that. You once saved the capital from a monarch who refused to surrender. Are you willing to let its people starve for another?"

Jaime's eyes flicked back and forth between her own, his brow furrowed.

When they moved to go into their mother's chambers, Jaime called out, "Myrcella? There's something I need to tell you."

Myrcella froze, "Of course."

"I should have told you long ago. Now that you've seen more of the world-"

"I know what you're trying to say," Myrcella said softly.

Jaime found that amusing, "No, I'm afraid you don't."

Myrcella stepped forward, taking Jaime's hand, "I do. I know."

Jaime froze.

"About you and Mother. I think a part of me always knew, and…" Myrcella stepped forward, the sun shining in her hair the same way it shone in Jaime's, "I'm glad. I'm glad you're my father."

Jaime was speechless, his eyes glassy.

Mycella smiled, before nestling her cheek on his chest.

Jaime tentatively put his arms around her, shooting Selene an incredulous look.

Selene nodded with a small smile.

Jaime closed his eyes tight, kissing Myrcella's hair.

He's been a father for years, Selene thought, but this is the first time he's ever been able to show it. The first time he's ever been able to hold his child in his arms, and them know the whole truth.

"Will you be travelling back to Dorne after this?" asked Jaime.

"I'm going to Winterfell."

"What?" Jaime frowned. "It's not safe for you there."

Myrcella shrugged, "It's not safe for me anywhere, once the army of the dead arrive."

Jaime gave her a searching look. He's trying to see if we're telling the truth, and is shocked to see we believe what we say.

"You need protection-"

"-then come with us," Myrcella pleaded. Her voice softened, "Please, Father. I feel like I just found you. I don't want to lose you."

Jaime's eyes grew glassy. When he did not speak, Myrcella pulled away and turned. Together, Selene and Myrcella went to face their mother.

Selene Snow had been in the Tower of the Hand several times in her life. As a child, she would often visit Jon Arryn, who was a kindly grandfather to her. In those days, the curtains were sky-blue and silver, the rooms always warm with the scent of vanilla and honey candles. When he was Hand, Ned Stark had hardly touched the Myrish rugs, wall hangings and gold-tinted round windows. The last time Selene was here, she and Tyrion killed Tywin. Cersei hadn't touched the décor much since then. Metallic lions twisted from iron in the doorways, crimson velvet curtains hung heavily from the walls, and the rooms were cast in shadow.

Cersei Lannister sat at the Hand's desk, hands on her lap, eyes as cold as green ice. The ice melted when Myrcella came into view, "Myrcella?"

Myrcella brightened, "Mother!"

Their mother stood, the two of them rushing forward and holding each other in a tight embrace. For the first time in years, Selene felt that familiar knot twist in her gut. She picked at her fingernails.

Cersei's eyes flicked open, hardening at Selene. "Your allegiance shouldn't surprise me. You always hated your Lannister blood. You must be so thrilled to be at the head of an army against us."

"Mother, please," begged Myrcella. "Selene doesn't hate us."

Cersei kissed Myrcella's forehead before turning and sitting back in her seat.

Selene went to stand beside her sister, "I don't hate being a Lannister. I haven't for a long time."

"You killed my father."

Selene's eyes hardened, "After he killed my husband and son."

"The Freys did that."

"Grandfather gave the order. Yes, I killed him. Tyrion and I both. Hate me for it if you want. A part of me hates myself for it in spite of what he was, in spite of what he did to me."

Cersei gripped her chair tightly, "Do you have any idea what you did when you drew that blade across his throat? You left us open. You laid us bare for the vultures and the vultures came and tore us apart. You may not have killed Joffrey, but you killed Tommen."

Selene slammed her hands down on the table, "You can't blame me for that. You can't. I know Tommen took his own life, and you know why. Because you murdered his wife and her family in cold blood. Tommen is dead because of you."

Cersei Lannister stood and reeled her hand back to strike Selene's face. She caught her by the wrist.

Myrcella gasped.

"I'm not a girl anymore, Mother. You can't strike me when you're angry."

As her mother sat, Selene did too, "Why did you want to speak with us alone?"

"You are my beloved daughters, and it's been years since-"

"Come, now," Selene interrupted, "We don't have all day."

Cersei leaned forward in her chair, placing her elbows on her desk, her fingers interweaving. "I'll get right to it, then. Selene, you are my eldest child and heir. Myrcella, you have the love of a prince of Dorne. I want your support."

Selene blinked. "Come again?"

Cersei did not flinch, "I heard what that foreign whore did to you, Selene. Serve her and you have nothing. Serve me, and you are the heir to the Iron Throne."

Selene still couldn't believe what her mother was saying. She glanced at Myrcella, just to ensure she was hearing correctly. By the shocked look on her sister's face, Selene must have been.

"You're joking."

"I've never been more serious. Myrcella, I hear you and Prince Trystane love each other, and I know how much Doran Martell loves his children. With you, we have Dorne."

"Prince Doran has already sworn for Daenerys Targaryen," Myrcella argued.

Selene shook her head. "Grandfather ordered the murder of Elia Martell and her children. You think the Martells would bend the knee to you when Daenerys is so close to victory?"

Cersei continued as if they hadn't spoken, "Selene, through you we have the stormlands and a full-grown dragon, and with your marriage we have the north, riverlands and Vale."

Selene raised her hands, "I married a Snow, not a Stark."

"One word from me, and Jon Snow becomes Jon Stark, Ned Stark's oldest surviving son and Lord of Winterfell. The riverlands were loyal to the last King in the North, and the lords of the Vale find themselves in Winterfell. In one stroke, we would secure three kingdoms."

"We?" Selene mused. "Indulge me, Mother. You've made no mention of the Reach."

A dark look passed over Cersei's face, "Olenna Tyrell murdered my son. For that, only one punishment will suffice. I want you to do to Highgarden what you did to the Twins. I want to burn that castle to the ground with every Tyrell left inside."

Selene and Myrcella sat in stunned silence.

Cersei sighed, "Neither of you knew."

"What?" Myrcella squeaked.

"Olenna?" Selene frowned, her mind as slow as if she'd drunk an entire flagon of wine. "No. How do you know?"

"Varys has his little birds, and I have mine."

"Why would Olenna-"

"Do you think Olenna Tyrell would have preferred her whore granddaughter marry Joffrey or Tommen? Which one would be easier for Margaery to control? Which one would make Olenna the true ruler of the Seven Kingdoms?"

Selene remembered the Queen of Thorns at Joffrey's wedding. When he began to choke, she cried out for help. Ser Garlan was one of the first to pound Joffrey on the back. She shut her eyes for a moment, trying to remember what Garlan said about Olenna before her trial.

My grandmother is quite sure of your innocence, and has convinced me and my siblings.

It was no secret Joffrey and I hated each other, Selene knew. The realm could see it every moment we were in the same room. I was grieving from what happened at the Twins, Joffrey named his sword Widow's Wail after me, and I laugh over his corpse before it's even cold…yet Olenna Tyrell believed me innocent. No one in the world believed me innocent, except Lady Olenna Tyrell.

Selene couldn't decide what to feel. She did not mourn Joffrey, but she and Tyrion had paid the price for his death.

"I must ask," Cersei said after a while, "Why did you marry a bastard?"

Selene was caught off guard by the question. "Because I love him. Ever since I first saw him in Winterfell all those years ago."

Cersei raised her brows, "Lucky for us he's Ned Stark's son, and the north bloody love their lords, don't they? Only the gods know why."

"Stop saying us." Selene said through grit teeth. "I've bent my knee to Daenerys Targaryen-"

"-so you could be the Lady of Storm's End," Cersei finished, "You had nothing in exile, so I understand that decision well enough. But I am offering you the stormlands, as well as the chance to be my heir, at least, until a son is born to me."

Her mother leaned back, a hand on her belly.

Selene's eyes flicked down, watching as her mother's heavily ringed fingers swirled over her stomach. "You're not."

"I am."

"Is it-"

"Jaime's? Of course it is. If it's a boy, he will be named Lannister, and he will be king. If I only have girls, then you will be queen after me."

Selene placed her head in her hands. Mother has lost it.

"Mother, please," Myrcella said softly, "The war is over. You've lost. You don't have to die."

"If Selene becomes queen, her children will be named Lannister."

Selene was quickly losing her patience, "You can't do that!"

"I am the queen," Cersei Lannister said with a serene smile, "I can do what I like."

"Not without us, you can't."

Her mother's eyes were cold, "The dragon whore took everything from you, and yet you still serve her. I'm your mother. I'm offering you your name, your rightful place, and yet you scorn me?"

"Daenerys will make a better queen than you."

Cersei looked down at her hands and smiled mockingly, "You really think so?"

"I do."

"Why? Because she freed slaves in the East? Because she ended the slave trade?"

Selene held her mother's gaze.

Cersei smirked, "Does that mean she'll make a good queen here? In Westeros? I'm not so sure. The dragon queen crushed cities beneath her feet. She spoke the violent languages of savages because that's the only language they understand in Essos. But in Westeros, no one wants fire and blood."

"The common people pray for rain, healthy children, and a summer that never ends." Selene said softly.

Cersei lifted her chin, "Daenerys Targaryen was the queen the East needed, but she is far from what the West needs."

Selene opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Mother would have me use Rhaegal against Drogon and Viserion. She would rather I sink the country into a bloody civil war than surrender.

"You want another Dance of Dragons, don't you?"

"I want my daughters at my side. A few lords may have bent their knee to Daenerys because of their hatred for me and our family, but they respect you. The commonfolk love you…with both of you and your Stark and Martell lordlings by my side, I think many would reconsider their position."

Selene rejected the thought, "I will never forgive or forget what was done to me at the Red Wedding."

Something like regret flashed in Cersei's eyes. Her mother leaned forward, reaching out and taking Selene's hand across the table. Selene couldn't remember the last time her mother touched her out of anything but anger. "I had no idea about that. You must believe me. You are my own child. I would have never done that to you."

Selene wanted to believe her, but…"You killed Tommen's wife. Why not my husband?"

"Margaery Tyrell was a scheming whore who was trying to take my son from me."

"And Robb was a rebel king and-"

"-the father of your child. I wanted him defeated, but I wanted you safe. You and your child both, more than anything."

Selene stared at her mother, feeling a strange tug in her chest. Before she could dwell on it, she drew her hand away. "None of that matters now. King's Landing will fall, Mother. Either now or later. Surrender and the people will live, including you and Jaime. You both could live out the rest of your days in peace in the Free Cities. After we've dealt with the northern threat, I won't be able to make such promises."

Selene remembered Daenerys' threat against the stormlands. Storm's End bends the knee, or it burns.

"King's Landing bends the knee, or it burns."

Myrcella turned, shocked at her sister's words.

Cersei tilted her head, "Is that the kind of queen you serve?"

Selene narrowed her eyes, "How many died in the flames at the Sept of Baelor?"

"Many more than you'd like, I'm sure," Cersei conceded.

"Then tell me, Mother…who should I serve?"

Cersei smiled, "Serve yourself. If you think you'd make a better queen than either of us, bend the knee, Selene. Bend the knee, and you can keep your Stark boy. Bend the knee, and the stormlands are yours. Bend the knee, and one day you may become queen. I'm sure you think you'd do it better than me."

I know I would, Selene thought, before shaking her head. She stayed silent for a moment, before saying, "And what of Euron Greyjoy? What of the man who killed your daughter?"

Cersei frowned, "What are you talking about?"

Selene leaned back in her chair, "Euron Greyjoy told you I fell from my dragon and died."

Cersei's jaw flexed, "He did. He was clearly mistaken."

"Tell me, how did he acquire my sword?"

Her mother hesitated, "He found it."

"What an incredible coincidence," Selene pondered. "You saw me at the Dragonpit. You've known me my entire life. Do I look like someone who would die that way?"

Cersei did not answer.

"After I took the Rock, I was captured by Euron Greyjoy. He tried to tame my dragon. When I told him a dragon never had two riders, he stabbed me in the heart, and I died."

Cersei frowned, "What kind of trick is this?"

"It's not a trick, or a lie," said Myrcella. "I watched over her body, Mother. Selene was dead and cold."

Selene stood, "I can prove it to you." She unclasping her stag brooch and allowing her cloak to fall to her chair. Her fingers began to work at the laces of her dress.

Cersei was as still as stone.

Selene pulled apart her dress enough for her mother to see the jagged wound just under the left breast.

Her mother furrowed her brows, "I don't understand. You show me a scar. That's no proof."

"No one could survive a wound like this. A red priestess from Asshai brought me back to life, and Euron Greyjoy murdered me."

Cersie stared at the wound, shaking her head, "No. You're my daughter. He wouldn't dare."

"When he captured me, he said 'Perhaps I should have seen the daughter before I pledged myself to the mother.' Your only ally is a madman."

Her mother sat in silence.

Selene laced up her dress, "You know Myrcella would never lie to you. You know in your heart it's true. And now every time you look at him, you'll be staring into the face of the man who killed your daughter."

"Enough," Cersei growled through clenched teeth. "This is just trickery and lies meant to divide me from my allies."

Despite her words, Selene saw doubt in her mother's eyes. She knows Euron is capable of it. She knows the truth.

Selene fastened her stag brooch, "If that's all?"

Cersei eyed her stag brooch and the golden stitching of her dress, "It seems to me you're not yet ready to lose your name. Consider my offer, Selene."

"You think I would rather betray my queen, divide the country and start a civil war with dragons on either side, than leave the realm in peace? Than live a quiet life with the man I love?"

Cersei smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes, "I do. I know there is a part of you that yearns for the crown. That comes from me, and your Lannister blood. I know you, Selene. It seems I know you better than you know yourself."

Selene stood, "You don't. You never have. Congratulations, Mother. When the histories remember you, they will know only of the queen who chose to let her people starve than bend the knee. Let's go, Myrcella."

Selene and her sister went to leave.

A Lannister barred their way.

"I had four children. Now I have two. Do you think I'm going to let you walk away from me?"

Myrcella gave Selene a frightened look.

Selene placed her arm protectively around her sister, anger emanating from her in waves, "Do you think you can keep us here?"

Rhaegal landed on top of the tower, dust falling from the stones above.

Cersei looked up, wary.

"Goodbye, Mother." Selene led her sister away from the guard, reaching out her hand for the door.

"I wish things could have been different between us," Cersei Lannister said softly, her voice laced with regret.

Selene froze, her hand only inches from the door. In a voice she didn't recognise, Selene found herself saying, "Me, too."

"This is yours." Something heavy was placed on the desk. "It belongs to you. It always has."

Selene turned her face slowly to see her silver, antlered crown on the desk. It was exactly as she remembered it. Beautifully crafted, the slender piece of silver still had the small, thin antlers protruding from all sides. In the centre, there was a small gap where her moonstone used to be, before she pried it off to take with her to Essos.

Cruel mothers are still mothers, Selene realized. She made me into war. She taught me the truth early. Mothers sometime give birth to their pain, instead of children.

Selene must have been looking at the crown longingly, for her mother's smile deepened as she pushed it forward. "Take it. Take it and remember yourself. Remember what you deserve."

###

"Our mother will not yield," Selene said to the lords, ladies and advisors gathered around the map in the queen's chambers on her lead ship. "She would rather starve than bend."

Tyrion looked to his queen, "Then it's decided. We take our forces to Winterfell to help our northern kingdom."

"We should take the capital first," said Ser Jorah. "We're all here. Let the city see dragonfire, and it will fall within the day."

"If we attack King's Landing," Selene said, "thousands will die in the firestorms." She thought of what Jaime told her about the Mad King's caches of wildfire all over the city, "Once we start a fire, there may be no stopping it."

"Whether it's starvation or fire, the people will die either way," argued Jorah, "Better we secure the capital now."

All eyes turned to Daenerys, who was staring at the carved lion that sat smugly on King's Landing. "Perhaps we burn the Red Keep alone? Spare the city, but attack the castle."

Tyrion frowned, "Many innocent people live and work in the Red Keep. And we can't be sure the fires won't catch and spread to the rest of the city."

"Your Grace," Jon said. "Once we defeat the Night King, you will have the men of the north, Vale, and riverlands behind you. The city won't hope to withstand you then."

Arianne Martell and the Tyrells exchanged a glance.

They still don't believe in the army of the dead. Selene glanced at Daenerys. Neither does she, not really, but she made a promise. And if she's wrong, and the north comes to harm….

Daenerys made her decision, "We head north."

Jon gave a little sigh of relief, before running his hand over the map, "If the Dothraki ride hard on the kingsroad, they'll arrive in Winterfell within the fortnight."

Tyrion nodded, "The Unsullied have been making the march north from the westerlands and are now at Moat Caitlin. Lady Sansa has granted them entry into the north, and they will arrive within the week."

"Perhaps you should fly to Winterfell, Your Grace," said Aegon. "You have many enemies in the North. All it takes is one angry man with a crossbow."

Ser Jorah agreed, "You should show all your strength."

"The north remembers," said Selene. "They remember your father, and they remember the last time a Targaryen brought dragons north."

"The last time a dragon came north," Daenerys said, "was to save them from the Boltons, if I recall. The only difference I can tell is that I'll be the one arriving on dragonback."

Selene cleared her throat, "The northerners once crowned me their queen, and knew me well. They don't know you, Your Grace. If you arrive on dragonback, you'll be seen as a threat."

Daenerys looked to Tyrion, "What do you think?"

Tyrion looked from Aegon to Selene, "I think…sailing and riding together sends a better message. We're allies. We need to be seen as allies if the northerners are to understand that."

Daenerys' eyes flicked from Tyrion to Selene, a shadow of suspicion in her eyes. The queen swallowed, interweaving her fingers in front of her. "I am the Mother of Dragons. I am not a threat, I am a queen. I will show my strength…for those who are still not sure if they should bend." She looked to Selene, "Once we land in White Harbor, we will fly."

Selene could do nothing but nod.

Daenerys continued, "The Dothraki and Unsullied will journey with all their strength. Asha and Theon, can I trust you and your ships to continue the blockade of the capital?"

Asha nodded, "You can, Your Grace."

Theon looked like he wanted to speak, but he held his tongue.

Daenerys' eyes scanned the room, "The north, riverlands, and Vale are in Winterfell with all their fighting men. I am asking everyone else to send half of their forces north."

The lords looked toward each other with uncertainty. Selene noticed Jon's look of worry. It's up to me to speak first, then.

Selene placed her hand on the stormlands, "The stormlands is not a populous kingdom, but our soldiers are fierce. After everything we've lost in the last war…fifteen thousand men are marching on the capital to assist with the siege. Half of them will continue to Winterfell, at Your Grace's command."

Selene felt all the eyes of the room hot on her. I can hardly blame them, she knew. I don't sound like an attainted noble. I sound very much like the Lady of Storm's End.

"Dorne can offer…" went Arianne Martell. Followed by Olenna and Garlan, all confirming the men who would besiege the capital, and those who would immediately begin the long journey to Winterfell.

When the meeting was finished, Daenerys called Selene back, "Stay."

Selene gave Jon a little nod, before finding herself alone with the queen, her heir, and her Hand.

Queen Daenerys sat, "Now, tell us what happened in the stormlands." She gestured to the map, "By the sound of things, it seems to me they've bent the knee."

Selene joined her hands behind her back, "They have, Your Grace."

"To me?"

Selene swallowed, squeezing her fingers, "No."

"Ah, that is unfortunate."

Aegon frowned, "Then to whom?"

"Well…me."

Tyrion hung his head.

Daenerys narrowed her eyes, "How is that possible? You've been attainted."

"I know. I told them."

"And?"

"They argue that because you have yet to sit the Iron Throne, I still bear my father's name and title."

Daenerys looked to Tyrion, "Well?"

Tyrion winced, "Technically-"

Daenerys stood abruptly, giving them all her back.

"I told them the truth," Selene said. "I can hardly cut out their tongues if they choose to call me Baratheon before you sit the throne."

"Can't you?" Daenerys murmured.

"She spoke the violent languages of savages," her mother had said, "because that's the only language they understand in Essos." Selene shook her mother's voice from her mind.

Tyrion frowned, "Not if we want their loyalty. Cut out the tongues of every noble in the stormlands, and the realm will harden against us."

"I mentioned my father's bastards to them," said Selene. "When the war is won, perhaps you can legitimise one? Or perhaps they can choose the next Lord of Storm's End amongst themselves?"

"None of them are loyal to me. Why would I want a disloyal Lord of Storm's End? My father had a disloyal Lord of Storm's End. I don't have to remind you all what happened next."

Tyrion stepped forward, "Names hold weight in Westeros. Names like Stark and Baratheon-"

"I know." Daenerys said shortly. "I'm aware how…loyal northerners and stormlanders are to their lords."

Aegon placed his hands on the map, "The stormlanders are helping us. They're going to help us besiege the capital and fight in the north. Surely that matters more than what they call Selene."

Daenerys turned, "The stormlanders calling her Baratheon makes it seem like I have no power. Like they don't respect me, my authority, or my judgement."

"That is true," Tyrion conceded, "but once the war is won, you can legitimise one of Robert's bastards…or name a new Lord of Storm's End if you wish. You rule this court. Everyone who matters knows of Selene's attainder. Let her lead them to finish the war, and then we can discuss our course."

The dragon queen's silence irked at Selene. "Forgive me, Your Grace, but what did you expect when you sent me to Storm's End?"

Daenerys narrowed her eyes, "I expected you to save your people from fire and blood."

"You say you understand how names hold weight in Westeros," Selene said, "but you took mine away. I accepted it, but the stormlords don't. I'm my father's only trueborn child, the last Baratheon, and you took my name. Did you expect the stormlords to rally in your name and throw up Targaryen banners upon learning you ended the Baratheon line?"

The room fell into silence. Selene realized her mistake before Daenerys even spoke.

"You accepted it?"

Selene swallowed, "I accept it. I misspoke."

Daenerys' face was inscrutable. "Leave us, Selene."

Selene looked to Tyrion and Aegon for help, but they gave her nothing. She nodded, turning to leave-

"Leave the brooch."

Selene thanked the gods her face was turned away. The rage that flashed on her face remained hidden. She kept her back to them, using all her willpower to keep her voice calm, and not to reveal the storm brewing beneath it. "It's been in my family for generations."

The only sound in the room was the distant whisper of waves against the ship.

Selene took that for an answer.

She turned, unclasped her silver stag brooch, and let her black cloak fall to the wooden planks at her feet. Selene stepped forward and placed the silver stag gently on the table. When it was time to let go, she hesitated, her fingers tight.

The silver stag stared back with warm, golden eyes.

Selene ignored the eyes on her, unable to look anywhere but at the silver in her hand. The stag was her father's laughter, her uncle Renly's smile, even her uncle Stannis' iron ferocity.

Selene placed the stag gently on the table and took her leave.

She walked down the corridors of the hull, her heartbeat roaring in her ears. She wanted to hit something with all her strength. She wondered if perhaps a ride on Rhaegal would help clear her mind, when a hand shot out from nothing and dragged her into a dimly lit room by the wrist. Selene opened her mouth to cry out, but a large palm covered the bottom half of her face, keeping her quiet as she was pressed against the back of the slammed door. She smelled him before she saw him. Firewood.

"Shh, Selene, it's me." Jon murmured, his eyes bright in the darkness.

Selene relaxed as Jon's hand fell away, "You frightened me."

Jon gave her an apologetic look, "Sorry, I only thought that…" his voice trailed when he saw her face, "What's wrong?"

"Everything," Selene said miserably, before noticing every available surface in the room was covered in candles. Well, every surface except the bed. "What's all this?"

Jon gestured about the room, "Can't a man surprise his wife?"

Selene's face broke into a smile. Jon could always make her feel better. She wrapped her arms around him.

Jon's grip nearly crushed her, "I've missed you."

She gave a breathy laugh, "I've missed you, too."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Selene nodded, "I do, but not just yet." She met his eyes, "I thought of you every day."

Jon brushed a few hairs from her face with the tips of his fingers, "I know. I felt it." His eyes fell to the moonstone necklace she wore. "You were my first thought when I woke up, the last before I drifted to sleep. I prayed to the gods to keep you safe, to bring you back to me." His eyes darkened, "I've given much thought to your return."

"Oh?" Selene's pulse quickened, "Care to show me?"

Jon didn't need any more prompting. He touched her neck, the softness of his fingertips raising goosebumps along her skin and spreading through her body. Her core pulsed.

His fingers moved up to her cheek, sliding behind her neck. Selene leaned forward and kissed him, running her fingers through his hair before pushing away his furs. She was numbly aware of his hand sliding the bolt over the door before he began to work on the fastenings of her dress.

Jon's breath was hot on her jawline, his lips lowering until it found the gentle dip between her breasts. Selene sighed as Jon lifted her legs and carried her to bed. They must have been in some servant's quarters, for the room was cramped and small. Selene was going to ask, but was distracted when Jon laid her down, falling upon her, his beard scratched the softness of her skin.

Jon lifted her thighs higher against his hip, rubbing that bit of her that made her unravel. She felt his warm hand grip her chin and turn her eyes toward him so he could see it, so he could revel in it.

His eyelids dropped, and Selene saw dark desire there, mirroring her own. She gave a low sigh as he kissed her neck, her collarbone, her breasts, her stomach, going lower until-

"Gods," Selene laughed with surprise, "What are you doing?"

"Something I should have done long ago. Do you trust me?"

Selene gave him a sly smile, "Not sure."

"Let's see if I can change that."

Selene leaned back, her heart hammering in her chest as Jon put his head between her legs, nuzzling at first. His beard was rough on her thighs, but then with his lips, with his tongue, he struck fire. Selene cried out in astonishment, in gratitude at being touched in the right place. Her hunger was being teased. Selene saw a flame trying to catch, nearly heard it, there was something she was after, something she was trying to achieve, and so afraid she'd miss it. The terrible moment when she was afraid she won't, she'll lose it, it won't work, she won't work, and she was desperate. At the same time, that was the most glorious place, that place of desperation and wanting.

Then suddenly she was there.

Afterwards, Selene was shy, or as shy as she ever got. Jon's hand grazed her arm as she laid her head on his chest, both of them dazed and staring at nothing.

"That was…" Selene had no words.

Jon chuckled at her demeanor, "I've wanted to do that to you for a long time."

"I need to return the favor."

Jon's eyes lit up, "Really?"

"Of course," she sighed, finally glancing around the room, "Where are we?" She grinned mischievously, "Is this some poor sailor's bed?"

In the dim light of the moon that spilled through the small window, Jon shifted uncomfortably, "Actually, this is our room."

Selene sat up, the sheet falling to her waist. She could put out both her arms and nearly touch the walls on both sides. The room was hardly suitable for a servant, and yet…In the stormlands I was a lady, but in this court I am nothing. She drew her knees close.

Jon propped himself up, "What's wrong?"

Everything. Her lip trembled, "I feel…I feel like I'm being pulled in every direction."

Jon was alarmed at her tears, "It's alright," he said soothingly. "Listen closely, Selene. I am here, I have been and will remain here with you. You do not need to carry this alone." He kissed her fingertips, "You will never look and find me gone."

Despite herself, she smiled, "We're alright, you know? You and me."

Jon beamed, his soft voice tickling her cheek, "Of course we are."

"Nothing else is alright," she whispered, "but we are."

Jon stared at her in silence, before saying, "I saw you in Storm's End."

"Did you?"

He drew her close, his voice full of pride, "I did. You were incredible."

She smiled, "Truly?"

Jon nodded, "The way you brought those lords to heel? I've never seen anything like it."

That can't be true, Selene thought. He was Lord Commander of the Night's Watch. I'm sure there were plenty of times he had to deal with much and worse. But he could feel how upset she was, so she appreciated his kind words anyway.

Selene stood, hoping a little pacing would help clear her thoughts. Until she realized she could hardly move in the room. I can't even think in here.

Jon observed her, "It's not what you're used to, is it?"

Selene bit back a dark laugh, "No. It's not."

Jon's mouth twitched, "You deserve the world, Selene, and I'm sorry, but…I can't give it to you. I thought you understood that."

Her heart broke at his words, "No, no, Jon, it's not that."

"Then what's wrong?"

"I'm not- I'm just…I just…" she sighed, sitting at the edge of the bed, "Jon, have I been myself lately?"

Jon made his way to her, kissing her shoulder, "What do you mean?"

"Do you remember how I was when we met?"

Jon smiled, running his fingers through her hair, "Of course."

"And you've seen me through the moonstone. For years."

"Yes."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

Selene ran her fingers through her hair. "Have I been myself through it all?"

"We've both changed. We were children then, and our suffering and grief has changed us. How could it not?"

"When I was in Storm's End, when the lords first disregarded me…I didn't feel like myself."

"Who did you feel like?"

Selene furrowed her brows, "Someone lost. A watered-down version of myself."

"That's not who I saw in Storm's End. You know who I saw?"

Selene shook her head.

"I saw Robert Baratheon's daughter." Jon turned her face to him, "I saw my wife."

Selene's throat clenched.

Jon looked at her thoughtfully, "There is enough fire inside you to put all seven hells to shame, but you are pretending to be water for people too afraid to handle the storm inside you. Stop crushing the thing that makes you."

Selene leaned against him, eyes shut. Her mind was as stormy as a sea, but his words were like salve on a wound. Her shoulders dropped, her breathing became soft and steady, and she felt at peace for the first time in what seemed like years. The songs say that love takes the breath away, but I don't think that's true. Jon doesn't take anything away. No, he is the one who reminds me to breathe when I forget how. He gives more than I ever hoped for, and that is a love worth singing about.

Selene opened her eyes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Jon asked.

Selene smiled, "Can't a woman look at her husband any way she pleases?"

Jon chuckled, "I don't think I'll ever get used to that."

Selene tilted her head, "How do you feel about returning to the north?"

Jon's lips pressed together, "Sansa is not happy that I've bent the knee."

"I'm sure she isn't."

"And…" Jon looked away.

Selene raised a brow, "And what?"

Jon cleared his throat, "She says Winterfell is happily surprised by our union and she is eager to embrace you as a sister once more."

Selene's face fell, "I suppose they haven't taken our marriage very well." Gods only know what Lady Catelyn will say.

Jon sighed in frustration, "Just add it to the ever-growing list of shit we have to deal with."

Selene laughed. "Our marriage. Just another addition to the shit list."

"You know what I mean."

Still, Selene playfully pretended to take offense. She harrumphed, lying in the bed and giving Jon her back.

She felt Jon's eyes on her. She heard him sigh, "If this sight was meant to punish me, then you are sorely mistaken."

Selene bit back a laugh, before pulling the sheet over her body. Jon threw his arms around her, trying to turn her toward him.

She laughed again, trying and failing to sound stern, "Stop."

Jon nuzzled her neck, his arms strong around her. "You don't mean that."

He's right, damn him. "Maybe I do," she said breathlessly.

Jon sighed into her neck, his breath warm on her skin. His hand trailed down her side, sending shivers down her spine, "Then say it again. Say, 'Jon Snow, stop touching me'."

Selene cleared her throat, trying to ignore Jon's fingers pressing the soft skin of her hip, "Jon Snow…"

"Hm?" Jon nipped at her ear.

Selene shuddered. She was going to fight him, but instead she turned, straddled him, taking him in her in one smooth motion. Jon gasped in surprise.

Selene bit her lip to keep from laughing, but after a few rolls of her hips, she was biting back moans as well.

Jon sat up, his hands hot on her back. "You were saying?"

Selene sighed in defeat, "Jon Snow," he kissed her neck. One of his hands was on her lower back, guiding her hips, the other was thrust into her curls, pulling her closer than close. Stars danced in her vision, "never stop touching me."

###

Our babe, our babe, our babe, Selene thought over and over again until she drifted into sleep…

And woke up with an agony in her belly too sharp for words. The pain nearly blinded her. Selene screamed as she sat up, feeling as if someone had stabbed her core with a sword. Her thighs felt wet.

"No, no, no, no…" She murmured as she lifted her soiled skirts, the fear in her heart stronger than the pain. She was sitting in a puddle of blood. Selene scurried to the corner of the cage so she could see. In a circle where she was lying, there was blood. But it didn't come from a wound. In the center there was a damp clump of black, wet in the moonlight.

She swallowed her horror, reaching with shaking fingers, and gently touched the mass. It was so small. Almost nothing, not even a shape. But that was her baby.

And then she remembered. The water had tasted wrong.

An ungodly wail rose from Selene's throat. She clawed at her arms in anguish. She hit the metal bars with all her strength. She heard her bones crack. She didn't care. She howled and wept and roared into an empty, unfeeling night sky.

Selene Snow woke with a start.

Her heart raced in her chest, cold sweat slick on her back as she remembered where she was. I'm on a ship headed for White Harbor, Selene thought, relief sweeping through her. Not the kingsroad. Not the Twins. Never again.

Jon lifted his head, "Selene?"

She smiled at the way he drowsily slurred her name, and the tuft of dark brown curls that stuck up from sleep. "It's nothing. Just a nightmare. Go back to sleep."

"You sure?" his low voice drawled.

Selene leaned down and kissed his forehead. "I'm sure. Sleep well."

Jon smiled, nestling his head back on the pillow with a content sigh.

Selene stood, slipping on a white shift and fastening Jon's warmest black cloak with a grey wolf's pelt around her shoulders. After slipping on some fur-lined boots and combing her fingers through her loose hair, she quietly left their cabin.

Selene Snow walked down the halls of the hull. As she placed her foot on the wooden stairs leading to the deck, she heard the faint murmur of voices through the nearest door. Selene saw shadows shift beneath the door, the voices disappearing at the sound of her feet on the planks. I wonder whose room that is. I wonder who is plotting what. Selene was faintly surprised to discover how little she cared. I'm tired of plots.

Selene walked up to the deck.

The moon was round and full, casting the world in silver light. The stars were bright, and she saw several constellations she recognised: the Stallion, the Crone's Lantern, the King's Crown…the same stars that looked down upon her father and mother and all her ancestors before them. She wondered what her father would do now, if he was dealt the cards she was. Would he do as I have done?

Selene walked to the railing, placing her hands on the smooth wood, eyes to the horizon. The sea was black in the night and as still as glass, going out forever in every direction. Selene breathed in deep, the salt water refreshing on her skin.

"Can't sleep?"

Selene faintly smiled at her uncle's voice. "Not the whole night through. Not since the Twins. I thought fresh air would do me good."

They stood in the quiet for a while.

Tyrion Lannister eyed the wolf pelt on her cloak and said, "I'm glad someone is happy. Gods know no one else is."

"How are you, Uncle?"

Tyrion sighed, "I serve an unhappy queen and an ungratefeul prince, the lords and ladies of the realm grumble at our every move, and my niece does nothing but cause trouble."

"Whatever she did, I'm sure Myrcella didn't mean any harm."

Tyrion shook his head with a chuckle, "Very funny. Glad you find humor in my misery."

Selene sighed, "It's not my intention to be a thorn in your side. I just want-"

"-everything," Tyrion said, disappointed. "You want everything, Selene. What did you discuss with Cersei?"

"I told you. Myrcella and I asked her to surrender and she refused."

"That's all?"

"That's all."

Tyrion met her gaze, "When did you start lying to me?"

He's already spoken to Myrcella. Selene crossed her arms, "When did you stop trusting me?"

Tyrion stepped closer, his voice lowering, "How could you not tell me Cersei offered you both a deal?"

"Because it doesn't matter."

"Doesn't matter?" Tyrion said incredulously, "Our queen's enemy offered you a crown for betraying her. Sounds like something worth mentioning to me."

"It wasn't." Selene knelt, "Uncle, only a fool would take that deal. I want this war to be over. I don't want to start another one."

"Why didn't you tell us?"

Selene shook her head, "Daenerys and I are on thin enough ice as it is. I've already broken her trust by marrying Jon. I didn't want to give her the idea that I would betray her."

Tyrion looked deep into her eyes, as if searching for something. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, "Would you?"

Selene took his hands, "No," she said firmly, "Mother wants another Dance."

"And what do you want?"

I want this war to be over. I want to deal with the threat to the north, seat Daenerys on the Iron Throne, and spend the rest of my life with Jon. I want Storm's End and my true name. The last thought came unbidden to her mind, and took her by surprise.

Tyrion tilted his head, a look of validation on his face, "I knew it."

"I can't control what I feel," Selene said, "but it doesn't matter what I want. All that matters is what Daenerys wants."

"Daenerys wants the Iron Throne. She wanted you to marry Aegon and continue her line. She wanted the stormlands to bend the knee. And now? She's headed to Winterfell because she can't go back on her word, she hears whispers that no one wants Aegon to rule after her, and she knows no matter what she declares… the realm will never look at you and see anything but a Baratheon. Queens don't always get what they want, and you should know that better than most."

Selene thought on what he said. "And what do you want?"

Tyrion seemed surprised by her question, "What do I want? I want Daenerys on the Iron Throne, and I want you and your sister safe. That's all. I just wish you wouldn't make it so difficult."

"What should I have done, Uncle? When the stormlords began bending the knee, calling me Baratheon, what else could I do?"

"Power is a curious thing," mumbled Tyrion. "When I was Hand in King's Landing, Varys once posed me a riddle. Would you like to hear it?"

Selene stood, "Go on, then."

"Three great men sit in a room, a king, a priest and a rich man. Between them stands a common sellsword. Each great man bids the sellsword kill the other two. Who lives, who dies?"

"Depends on the sellsword."

"Does it? He has neither crown nor gold nor favour with the gods."

Selene frowned, "He has a sword, the power of life and death."

"But if it's swordsmen who rule, why do we pretend kings and queens hold all the power?"

Selene thought for a moment. "It's a riddle without an answer, or rather, too many answers. All depends on the man with the sword."

"Some say knowledge is power. Some tell us that all power comes from the gods. Other say it derives from law."

Selene sighed, "Do you mean to answer the damn riddle, or only to make my head ache?"

Tyrion smiled, "Here, then. Power resides where men believe it resides. No more and no less."

"Renly told me that years ago. Seems you're not the only one Varys loves to torment with riddles. Are you telling me power is a mummer's trick?"

"A shadow on the wall," Tyrion agreed, "yet shadows can kill.

"There is something you haven't considered in your riddle."

"And what's that?"

"What if one of the great men, perhaps a woman, has a dragon at her back. What then?"

"Ah, what then? A war with dragons on both sides. The realm hasn't seen a war like that since the Dance. Will you be responsible for such destruction?"

Selene shook her head, "Not me. This war is almost over, Uncle. I won't go and do something stupid like prolong it."

Tyrion Lannister did not look convinced. "This war is many things, Selene, but almost over is not one of them."

Author's Note:

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for all your views and reviews. Please leave a review if you can.

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