AN: Another flashback about family, duty and honour, so to speak. The longest so far - somehow my chapters seem to get longer, sorry about that. Currently working on the last two shows me the same problem. Hope you'll read it anyway and tell me what you think!

A Fight with Fire

"He is a Blackfyre pretender."

There was no anger in her voice, only the calm of someone who was utterly confident in their knowledge of facts. Tyrion shuddered to hear it, for in a way, Daenerys reminded him of his father. No, his mother's husband, he reminded himself. Tywin had never been his father, neither in name nor by blood. Tyrion was not entirely convinced he preferred his true father over him, however, but he certainly preferred the new sister over his old one. Even if she did make him uncomfortable from time to time.

"How can you be so sure?" He asked. "For all we know, he might be true, and if he was, his claim would overrule even yours."

"This is not a matter of claims. I am not queen because my father was king. My people never knew Aerys, they do not know the name Targaryen, or any of those other old stories. They know me, they know my plans for this world, and they know my dragons," she replied firmly. "And I know this Aegon to be false, and for the same reason I knew you were my brother."

Tyrion looked into his cup, only wishing the wine would give him as much confidence as she seemed to possess. When he looked back up, he noticed she had somehow appeared right before him, as if from thin air. The shining lilac of her eyes still mesmerized him, but there was a hint of sadness in them.

"I had hoped that by now, you would understand. Don't you feel it?"

She stretched out her hand to him, and almost if in trance, he took it. Her skin was soft and warm to the touch.

"Can you not feel that our hearts are beating in the same tune? That despite our lives being so vastly different from the other's, you and I are of the same blood?" She sank to her knees to see eye to eye with him. "I have many friends, brother, all of which I love dearly, but none so much as I love my children, or you. It is an absolute, undeniable love, one that requires no benefits, no explanation, no reason. I love you."

It almost felt too good to be true to finally hear someone say these words.

"And I you," he replied in a hoarse voice.

Daenerys smiled. "Then you must know this pretender to be false. He is not our nephew, he is a Blackfyre, and it is all a ruse. He does not know it himself, but I will show him and all the world."

"How?" Tyrion barely dared to ask. He half-knew the answer already.

"The same way I showed you to be true: with dragons."

There was an eerie calm about the way she said those words, so laden with implications yet sounding so innocent.

"Do you support me in this?"

He frowned. "How could I? If it is dragons we need, I am of little use. Jorhaenys has accepted me, mayhaps, but I am nowhere near the bond that you and Rhaegon share. I doubt she would fly around the pyramid with me, let alone to Volantis."

"But she comes when you call for her, and that is enough to intimidate most people. I do not need you to join me when I face the pretender, I need you as my replacement here. You're my Hand, remember? Keep Meereen for me while I am away, that is all I ask."

Be in charge of a city once more? And one that is considerably less smelly than King's Landing? Tyrion couldn't deny that he liked the idea to a great extent.

"I can do that for you, sister. But will you tell me first why you sent for Varys? I wonder what the old spider has got to do with it."

"Nothing," she said smiling as she rose to her feet again. "Everything."

"You're speaking in riddles," Tyrion huffed and turned to his cup again.

"Good. I should hate to be predictable. I wouldn't want the spider to see through me right away… or well, why not? He might not expect someone to be honest with him, it might catch him off guard." She giggled.

How can she giggle like a sweet little girl when most of the time even I am frightened by her power? But Tyrion kept silent.

"That I would like to see. May I stay?"

"Of course." She nodded and beckoned a servant to send Varys in at last. Then she slid into a chair, sitting as upright as if she had swallowed a stick, and waited for the spider in this most regal of poses.

For a moment, Tyrion considered doing the same, but he quickly realized it was no good. He wasn't like her, nor would he ever be, and quite likely, she wouldn't want him to try. She had made it abundantly clear that she loved him the way he was, and frankly, he was beginning to take her by the word. Except for Jaime, no one had ever come close to appreciating him like that, and he'd be damned if he paid this sibling back as badly as he had Jaime. How was he, Tyrion wondered, but he knew there would be no answer, and he feared to ask his sister. Jaime had killed her father after all. Their father, Tyrion shuddered to think. What a weird world it is that I live in. Well, cannot be helped, anyway.

So he downed his cup and strode over to her, to stand beside her and just enjoy the show.

"Your Grace." Varys nodded very respectfully as he entered.

"Lord Varys, how good of you to come. I would offer you a seat and refreshments, but I am afraid our conversation today will not be a long one." Daenerys smiled. "At the council of my beloved brother, Prince Tyrion, I will not bother you with lengthy and elaborate schemes today but rather speak my mind, if you do not object?"

Varys slithered oh-so-lightly at the words "Prince Tyrion", which most likely he had not yet wrapped his head around. For a man like him, who prided himself in his knowledge, to have overlooked a secret Targaryen for so many years… But he wouldn't show.

"Not at all, Your Grace."

"Good, then I shall ask straight away: Would you have ever told me the man riding with the Golden Company, who claims to be Rhaegar's son, was a Blackfyre, or would you have convinced me to marry your pretender and step back behind him despite all your pleas that you had come to serve me, and only me?"

If it was possible, the spider's face grew a little paler. He said nothing.

"Do you deny it?"

"There is no reason to deny what you are clearly certain of. I am not a man of illusions," Varys then replied. "But may I ask how you came to know?"

"I am blood of the dragon, Lord Varys. You have underestimated the meaning of this phrase, it seems. I feel those close to me by blood, and I know he is not one of them. I can only assume the man himself has no knowledge of this, and I will not punish him for being abused so cruelly – that is, if he steps down from his claim once he sees the truth."

Again, Varys remained calm.

"It must be painful for you to see the plans that you have been working on for so long crumble away," Daenerys conceded. "How long has it been? Since before I was born, I must assume. Did you conceive this plan before the true Aegon was slaughtered? Or did you see the bashed-in skull of the blameless infant and wondered 'how could I benefit from that'?"

"Your Grace must forgive me that I…"

She waved her hand to cut him short, and to Tyrion's surprise, the spider even flinched a little.

"No, you must forgive me, Lord Varys, for being angered and altogether not very regal when thinking of my poor nephew's bloodied skull and the men who looked at it with no remorse whatsoever, simply looking for a way to make their fortune off a dead babe's body." Her voice sounded calm, but Tyrion could somehow feel that she was boiling on the inside.

"I did not know of you then, or of Prince Tyrion," Varys said in his defense. "All I sought was to put a good and rightful monarch on the throne."

Daenerys inhaled sharply, only to exhale very slowly, almost as if she was a dragon herself. Then she nodded.

"Those were bloody days, I am aware of it, just as you are now aware of me, and of my brother, and of our dragons. This is why you stand here, Lord Varys, and why I did not burn you as a traitor straight away, as many a man surely would have me do. But I am not my father," she proclaimed, and then turned to look at Tyrion. "Neither of us is like him. This is why we will give you the same chance we will give the Blackfyre and all those who support him."

Tyrion answered her smile with one of his own, for not only had she spoken of them as a 'we', she had also spoken truly, and he understood what she meant. He nodded and turned to Varys.

"Lord Varys, it may sound odd to you, but I almost consider you an old friend. That is, if there is any such thing as friendship in King's Landing."

Varys nodded to him, obviously seeing his chance to escape the noose once more.

"The Queen and I would like you to remain our friend. Now that you see us for who we are, will you abandon your scheme and support the ruler that Westeros needs?"

Varys nodded again, this time more clearly. "Of course."

"Even if the cost of that choice would be your creature's head, or that of your friend, Illyrio?" Daenerys added more sharply.

"I…" Varys stopped himself, but regained his composure within two heartbeats. Tyrion had to admit he was ever impressed by the spider's adaptability. "I only want what is best for the realm, my queen."

"Then do you wish to come with me when I parlay with the pretender and the Golden Company? Fly with me and Rhaegon and deliver justice once and for all?"

He grew paler yet again. Daenerys smiled and rose from her chair.

"I had thought not, and I have no wish to be cruel. Not everyone was born with a stomach for flying. So… You will remain here and help my brother, the prince, maintain law and order in Meereen. With both your talents combined, who knows, Meereen might even prosper." She stepped closer to him, smiling, until she almost stood so close that he could feel her breath. "I do not believe I have to stress how very grateful I would be to find you and my beloved brother firm friends upon my return, and how distressed I would be to see that your plea of friendship today had not been genuine."

"Your Grace, I…"

"No, please, Lord Varys, let us not stoop so low as to start begging or lying," she interrupted him quietly. "Only know this: I have forgiven you for all your actions against me, and I thank you for all your help, mainly because of the respect my brother holds for you. Keep it that way, and you will live to help us build the better world that all of us dream of. But rest assured that if you betray him or me or our course, you will find me more frightening than that voice in the flames could have ever been."

Tyrion frowned, not understanding her words, but it was apparent that Varys did. Oh, and how he understood! Tyrion would not have believed that there was a thing in the world that could scare the spider, but quite obviously his resourceful sister had found it. Varys all but trembled when he left the room.

"That was… quite a show. I must applaud you for it."

Daenerys turned around smiling. "I thought only mummers and jugglers required applause."

"Tywin Lannister would have thought so, yes, but I thought it was sufficiently established that we are not him."

"No, we are not. Not at all," she readily agreed. "And gods forbid we ever turn into him. I will have to remind myself of that when I deal with the pretender. I have no wish for this to be my Rains of Castermere."

Tyrion nodded. "What will you do then?"

"As you know, I have already sent Rakharo and my Dothraki ahead to where the pretender and his company of Sellswords wish to meet with me… somewhere north of Volantis. It will do them good to ride and plunder on the way. Yes, I know it sounds bad, but it is better than to keep them sitting idly. And don't fret, brother dear, for I am leaving Daario and the Second Sons as well as the Unsullied here with you. You'll be perfectly safe."

"I wouldn't be too sure about that. If looks could kill, your mercenary commander would have put Tywin to shame in his desire for my blood."

Daenerys smiled and poured herself a cup of wine now, too. "Only because he is afraid that I have taken you as my lover."

Tyrion gulped. "I… um, yes, but he… he isn't your lover, either, is he?"

"No." She laughed. "Nor will he ever be. Or you, for that matter. Oh, don't worry, of course I am not unafflicted by your rugged charms, sweet brother, but unlike Daario, you must know that my love for you is of a different sort."

He nodded ever so slowly.

"I am beginning to believe that many Targaryens mistook this all-consuming love of one dragon for another for romantic love. And while I see the benefits of keeping the bloodline pure, I also see the dangers, and I have no wish for us to go down that path."

And while he completely understood, a part of him was hurting still.

"But those are matters for another day. You are a prince of royal blood, and when the time comes, we'll find a woman who makes your heart sing in the right way. Just… not now. We must prepare my departure so that you feel confident when I'm gone."

"Yes, of course. Confidence would be much appreciated," he replied eagerly, grateful that she had changed the subject of romance and marriages to one he felt more comfortable with. "Have you considered who to take with you? I could not bear to let you go unaccompanied, and Rhaegon is surely strong enough to carry two riders, now?"

She nodded. "As a matter of fact, I have. I'll be taking one of my queensguard with me, of course, to show the pretender right there and then that I am not to be trifled with."

"Good. Very good. I am relieved to hear it. And do you have anyone in mind?"

"I do. And to be honest, because with you I can be, I cannot wait to see their faces when they see him."

Tyrion understood as soon as she explained her plan to him, and they spent more than a week secretly enjoying the idea together. That and they arranged for Meereen to be safe, much safer than it would have been in another timeline, Daenerys mused. But she had already changed so much, and so much was yet to be done. She hated to part with Tyrion when the day came to mount Rhaegon, but she knew they would all be united again soon. All three of them.

Only that Aegon the Pretender wasn't one of them. Her heart almost burst as she took to the sky, the dutiful white knight of her queensguard behind her, and set out to meet the Golden Company. Seen from above, they really seemed numerous and magnificent in their shining armour, and Daenerys only hoped that no armour's glistening could compare to the magnificence of a dragon. When she saw her Dothraki horde approaching the meeting point, she plunged down from high above, Rhaegon roaring so loud even she felt shaken to her bones.

She landed not far away from the mercenaries' camp and joined Rakharo briefly to thank him for his due arrival. She needed to see his face, the reassuring warmth of a friend, before she could face the cool reception she would no doubt receive. Then she nodded at her queensguard, and both he and Rakharo followed her to meet the leaders.

There were three who came for her, one young and strangely blue-haired, one old and worn and battle-hardened, and one of middle age whose colours gave him away as the captain of the Golden Company. Daenerys stopped walking and allowed them to speak up first.

It was the older man that raised his voice. "Queen Daenerys Stormborn, it is a pleasure for King Aegon, seventh of his name, to finally meet you in person."

She considered the many snaps she could return to this. Tyrion had thought through almost every possible way this conversation could go, and naturally she had anticipated a greeting along these lines. So she replied in the way her brother had devised, and she only regretted he was not there to hear it.

"Is he, then? I wonder where he is and why he has not come to greet me as he has you say."

"I am here," the blue-haired man brashly interrupted her. Then, after a reprimanding glance from the old man, he put on a smile that seemed not quite genuine. "Do not be fooled by my hair, sweet aunt. It was only dyed for my own safekeeping. But I am Aegon, your nephew, and rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms."

"You are neither of those," Daenerys replied calmly, not even looking at the man. Instead, she turned to the old one who had spoken first. "Sir Jon Connington, many claim that it was you who loved my brother Rhaegar best, and yet despite all your love, you cannot see the ruse you have been made part of?"

"Ruse?" The blue-haired pretender seemed angered by that. "How dare you?"

Daenerys still could not be bothered to talk to him, instead looking at Connington with relentless eyes. "Sir Jon, look at me and tell me true: do you see Rhaegar in me? Am I his sister?"

The man held her gaze for far longer than was appropriate. Everyone seemed to stare at him staring at her, even the blue-haired man. Then, slowly, Connington nodded.

"Aye, you are."

She smiled, ever so slightly, but it was enough to remind him of the way his Silver Prince had once smiled. He hurt at the memory, Daenerys could see it.

"And tell me, then, Sir Jon: when you look at him, do you see Rhaegar? Do you see the blood of the dragon?"

Weirdly, he did as he was bid and looked at the man he had brought up, the boy he had loved like his own since the day the infant had been put into his care. The blue-haired man angrily returned the glance for a moment only to redirect his anger at the queen before him.

"My mother was Dornish, perhaps there is more of her in me than of my father."

"Your mother was a Lyseni pillow-slave descended from the Blackfyre prenteders, and your father is Magister Illyrio Mopatis of Pentos," Daenerys shot back. "I regret to inform you that you have been lied to all your life."

He gasped. "You are the liar."

Behind them, the dragon let out another roar. Daenerys nodded at him.

"Rhaegon knows you to be no Targaryen."

"That is… ridiculous! Strickland, I command you to take action! This slight cannot go unpunished," the blue-haired man told his commander.

"My king, the Queen would not have wanted to insult you, I guess," the other man replied.

Daenerys nodded. "I have no wish to insult you, only to show you the truth. All of you. I can see the doubts in your faces, but if you have been fed a lie for so long, it is hard to give up, I understand. So if you will not take my word, if you will not take Rhaegon's word…" The dragon roared again. "… how about the word of someone who knew Rhaegar just as well as you, Sir Connington? Tell me: would you listen to an old friend?"

And with that, her queensguard removed his helmet. The wind around them blew his pale hair into his face, but not even that would hide him from those who had known him, albeit many years ago. Connington gasped with shock.

"It's not possible…"

Oh, how many more times must I hear this sentence, Daenerys wondered. Why can't people just believe for once?

The blue-haired pretender was dumbfounded. "Who is this man? Jon?"

"He… it is not possible. How can you be alive?"

"Who is he?" The pretender demanded more rigorously.

Connington caught his breath. "This is Ser Arthur Dayne, my king. He was a member of your grandfather's kingsguard." Then, looking at the knight, he added: "I had not thought to ever see you again."

"Nor I you," the knight finally spoke.

"Wait… the Sword of the Morning?" The blue-haired man gasped. "You all told me he died. The Stark traitor killed him."

"Eddard Stark was a man of honour," the knight replied firmly. "It is true blood was shed that day, and too much of it, but when the moment came, I was overcome, just for a moment. I should have died there and then… but Stark's friend had given me only a sleeping draught, not poison. When I awoke, it was he who wished to spare my life. Stark accepted, on the condition that I leave and must never be heard of until the time came. He was sure he could protect Rhaegar's son better than I could, and at the time I agreed. But I have never given up the fight, and I have always intended to serve the rightful heir to the throne."

"And yet you stand with her," the pretender all but spat. "You should be loyal to me."

"I have never sworn loyalty to the Blackfyres."

His calm insistence seemed to anger the blue-haired man even more. "I am no Blackfyre!"

"How can you say all of this?" Connington asked incredulously.

"Because I know the truth of it. Aegon and Rhaenys died in King's Landing, as sorry as I am to say these words. This boy is a ruse, concocted by those who saw their chance at glory, and you were used by them as was he," Ser Arthur replied. "But it is not too late, Connington. Rhaegar's true son lives, and Queen Daenerys knows it."

Connington seemed desperate. "But how? If Aegon truly died…"

"I am here," the blue-haired man interjected.

But Ser Arthur shook his head. "Not Elia's son. Lyanna's."

Connington's eyes opened wide. "That's why…"

"Why three knights of the kingsguard protected her when Stark arrived? Yes. I am surprised no one pieced it together sooner, I did not believe Stark would pull it off. But it worked, and though Lyanna Stark sadly died, her son lives. Rhaegar's son lives. Come with me and we may serve him, Jon, and keep the promises we made so long ago."

A moment of silence and stares followed. Then, finally, the wounded ego of a man who had been promised a crown took over.

"This is outrageous! Jon, Strickland, we are leaving. There will be no alliance with an ungrateful bitch and her lying knight, but if she turns around and takes her savages with her, I might be kind and allow her to live out her days in the faraway city that she calls herself queen of."

"No." After so long a silence, her voice sounded odd even to Daenerys herself. But she could not falter now.

"No? What do you mean, no? Do you think to command me?" The blue-haired man was clearly not used to hearing a 'no'.

"I do not think much about you, at all. But I wish to reaffirm Ser Arthur's offer to you, Lord Connington, and add my own: join the Targaryen forces now, all of you, and let us end hundreds of years of enmity. It is true, the Golden Company was founded to put a Blackfyre on the throne, and you, Commander Strickland, might feel tempted to fulfil that ancient plea now that you have a Blackfyre in your grasp at last. But allow me to remind you: when the Blackfyres rose, there were no dragons anymore. Now, there are. And they follow only the call of a Targaryen."

The commander she had spoken to seemed to want to answer, although he clearly was unsure of what to say. But he waited too long, and the temper of the would-be King Aegon took over.

"If you'd sided with me, we could have ridden them together, aunt, but now I shall have to take one for myself and leave you out of it."

Daenerys shook her head. "As I obviously must remind you: I am not your aunt and you are not a dragon rider. There are but three dragons in this world, and all of them are spoken for. The beautiful beast you see behind me is Rhaegon, my eldest child, and I shall ride him into battle when the time calls for it. My brother Prince Tyrion rides the green-and-gold beauty that is Rhaegon's sister, and my nephew Prince Jon will ride the youngest of them, the silver-greyish dragon that matches the ice that makes up half of his blood."

Her words echoed with power so much so that even the pretender remained silent for a moment. Instead, it was Jon Connington who, unwittingly, broke the silence.

"Prince Jon…" He murmured.

"Rhaegar's son." The Sword of the Morning nodded. "Come with us and you can serve him as rightfully you should."

These words seemed to get the blue-haired man back to his senses. "No, he won't. This is treason you speak of, and I won't allow it." He looked at his old mentor. "Jon, tell them."

"Young Griff…"

"Don't call me that anymore, my name is Aegon!"

"Your name is inconsequential," Daenerys insisted. "What matters is the choice you make now, all of you. Join my ranks and help me build a better world, or leave in peace and never stir up trouble again. Or, if you will not choose either, you will be shown what a true Targaryen does to those that cross her. Lord Connington, surely you haven't forgotten my house words."

Connington nodded. "Fire and Blood… Young Griff, please, we must speak about this. Now."

"There is nothing to speak about! How can you even think of her words for any second? You, whom I have loved like my own father! You would deny me my birth right because of the words of a… a Dothraki wench? I thought you loved me!"

"And I do, Young Griff, and I do. Enough to want to save your life."

"She is no threat to me, nor is her beast!"

Daenerys gestured towards her dragon, who roared again in response. Then she calmly smiled at the men surrounding her.

"Why don't we ask Rhaegon to judge you? A dragon knows his kin. If you think to take him or any of my dragons from me, feel free to go ahead and try."

The dragon unfolded its wings and shrieked towards the sky, a little bit of flame and smoke erupting from its mouth. Many of the Golden Company, despite their training, winced at this unearthly noise, even Commander Strickland. Connington, too, seemed to be shaken, for he stumbled forward and grabbed the blue-haired pretender by his arm.

"Young Griff, I beg you."

"She is making a show of strength, but her words mean nothing. There were many Targaryens who did not ride dragons. Many kings!"

Daenerys smiled at him. "But I do. And I am no king."

"You are no queen either. You could have been had you chosen to listen, and to marry me, but now you'll be nothing."

"You know nothing, Aegon, or Young Griff, or whatever your true name may be. I am not queen because of any birth right. The people who follow me chose me. They believe in me. They trust in me. Do you see them?" She pointed towards the Dothraki behind her, and as if he understood, Rakharo gave them a sign to shout and yell and show their arakhs. Daenerys felt their support swell with every heartbeat. "See? They are Dothraki, they follow only strength, and they see it in me. They follow me. I offer the same to you."

"Young Griff, we have to…"

But the young man shook his head. "I do not have to listen to this slander any longer! Let us end this here, in the true Targaryen way. My champion against yours!"

"No, you against me," Daenerys insisted. "There is only one Targaryen present, and everyone should see the truth of it."

Snarling, the pretender reached the hilt of his sword. "I would not fight against a woman in other circumstances, but seeing you at least have armour…"

Connington tried to reach his sword arm. "Young… Aegon, please. Let us speak sensibly."

"Why? Look at her, she clearly has delusions of grandeur. She cannot hope to win against me."

"Think of Visenya…" Connington muttered under his breath.

But the pretender would not listen anymore. "She is not Visenya. But I am Aegon." With that, he turned back to Daenerys and unsheathed the magnificent Valyrian steel blade by his side. "Choose your weapon, khaleesi."

"The only blade I mean to wield is in your hands now," she returned, pointing towards the blade. "I will restore the sword and its name to the glory it deserves, not the mean and disgusting sound your baseborn ancestors wrought upon it."

The pretender looked at Blackfyre in his hands. It seemed to make him angry.

"You will regret those words."

"Let us not waste any more time," she replied, unclasping her coat and handing it to her queensguard.

"Aegon, no," Connington interjected. He seemed to turn to Ser Arthur for supporting, baffled at how the knight could let his small, almost delicate queen walk into what would surely be her death. She might have armour, which as it looked as even made from Valyrian steel, but it would not protect her from Aegon's blade. Jon knew he had taught his ward well. "Aegon please, this is madness."

Ser Arthur took his queen's coat and nodded. Then he stepped back, and with him Rakharo.

"Show them, khaleesi," he said in Dothraki.

The pretender stepped forward, the ancestral sword of House Targaryen in his hand, and for a split second Daenerys wanted to admit that he did look the part, at least if you ignored his hair. She almost felt sorry for what she had to do, but Tyrion had seen it coming – Tyrion, who truly was her blood, unlike this pretender.

He swung at her with force, to the horror of Jon Connington and the cheers of the Golden Company. Daenerys ducked, glad for the lessons she had learned from her many tutors. Ser Jorah had taught her, as had Rakharo, as had Ser Barristan, Ser Arthur and Daario, but the skills she meant to make use of now were mostly Aurane's doing. He had perfected the art of teasing, after all.

"Stop this madness at once, Ser Arthur!" She heard Connington shout as Blackfyre met with her armour.

What an incredible sound, she thought. Valyrian steel on Valyrian steel. The armour had been extremely costly, after all, but she was certain it would soon prove its true worth.

"Just… stand still," Aegon gasped between two breaths.

She slid away again, breathless but almost laughing. "I will, if you surrender Blackfyre to me."

"Never!"

"Yield, and I will spare your life," she pressed on as she once more evaded one of his thrusts.

"You are mad!"

"Maybe." Again she laughed and ducked. Then, she added in High Valyrian: "But I am a Targaryen, after all."

Yelling with frustration, he followed her across the field, slashing and hacking and driving her away with his blade. Many a time he managed to hit her, but her armour was as hard as his blade was sharp. Yes, she would be bruised and sore by the morrow, Daenerys knew. But come the new day, he would not be anything anymore, and he didn't know that yet.

They came to a standstill, both breathing heavily. Between them, Blackfyre shone in the sun like a crystal. Connington's voice was carried over to them in the wind.

"Aegon, I beg of you, end this!"

"Give up!" The pretender shouted at her. "You cannot hope to win! Not without a weapon!"

"You have my sword. And if you will not give it up, I will take it from your dead hands."

He laughed. "How do you propose that will happen? You may have excellent armour, but you have nothing to hurt me with."

"That is where you are mistaken, you see?" Daenerys replied, and behind her, a dark doom of a sound drew closer. From the dusty ground far away, a black-scaled beast open up its wings and soared above them. "I am blood of the dragon. Have you forgotten my family's words? We will always fight with Fire and Blood."

Over their heads, the dragon began to flap with long, powerful strokes of his wings, almost standing as still in the air as they did on the ground. Far in the distance, screams of horror began to emerge, but they did not matter to the queen and the pretender. She looked him dead in the eyes, and there was no more remorse left. He had been given ample chance. She would not be stopped, not by him or anyone.

"Fire cannot harm the dragon… but you are none." She raised her chin ever so slightly to savour the moment. Then, she did what she had to do. "Dracarys."

The flames that engulfed them were scorching hot, even she could feel it. Oh, how strong her beautiful son had become since the days when they had rid themselves of the khals! How hot his flames burned now that he was given the chance to end this abysmal error of the Targaryen line once and for all! Daenerys watched with pride as the shining red surrounded her and burned the linen from her body. Only the armour would remain, for just like Targaryens, Valyrian steel didn't burn. That was her armour's true purpose, and she found that it served her admirably.

Some time after, when the pretender's horrified screams (they reminded her of Viserys, oddly) had died down, she fulfilled her last promise to him. Stepping over his charred corpse, she took the blade into her hands that felt oh-so-right there. Then she stepped out of the firestorm that still raged on behind her.

The screams and wailing of the men who had been forced to watch their leader burn died down the moment she emerged. Connington had fallen to the ground, crying, and seemed to lose his mind completely as he saw her with Blackfyre in her hands. Commander Strickland, too, seemed awestruck, albeit for completely different reasons. Everyone stared at her in shock and disbelief except for those who knew her. Those who, as she had pointed out, followed her by their own accord. Above their heads, Rhaegon screamed.

"He has been given his choice, as have you. Come to me within the hour or face the consequences."

She needed to say no more, so she didn't. Instead, she beckoned Ser Arthur and Rakharo to come, and together they passed by the burning mess of a battlefield and ventured back to her Dothraki, who welcomed her with joyful shouting.

"You have shown them all, khaleesi," Rakharo put their thoughts into words. "And you are better fighter now. Next time, maybe, you even hit your enemy."

Daenerys warmly laughed at him before turning to her other companion. Ser Arthur nodded slowly.

"You have learned much about fighting, it is true. I only wonder if it will be enough to convince them."

"Or whether or not I have actually gone mad," she added. "The fire… I am not my father, Ser Arthur."

"I know that. You had to prove the man a liar, he would not have it any other way."

"I am sorry… in a way. For the boy he was, pushed around and lied to. But not for the man he had become."

Rakharo snorted. "Man was stupid and weak."

"Not everyone will see it that way," Ser Arthur mused. "Especially not the Golden Company. They have always cherished the Blackfyre memory."

"We must all let go off certain notions once they are no longer useful. My brother Viserys never understood that, but I do. And if the Golden Company wishes for a tomorrow, they better had as well."

At that, all three of them turned to look at the camp in the distance. What would they decide to do, really? It was impossible to say, and Daenerys found herself half worried, half negligent.

"If matters come to worse, Ser Arthur, let us remember that our journey here was not without merit. The pretender is gone, and I have Blackfyre."

"You do. And I would be honoured to teach you how to use it," the Sword of the Morning said. "With your permission, of course."

She looked at the sword in her hand and smiled. "Readily granted. I have a feeling that this may not have been my last duel."

AN: There you have it, that is how the fabled sword got into Targaryen hands once more. Oh, and I just had to bring back Ser Arthur Dayne. That a weasel like Howland Reed (no offense, good man!) would kill the best swordsman in the world just seemed a little fishy to me, and while it might have been the truth, for this story I'm assuming it was yet another cover up, just like Jon's real identity. Stay tuned for the penultimate update, which should be here by the weekend! Feel free to let me know if this chapter has made you think of my Daenerys as too cruel or haughty, or if you can understand her actions!