Sister's Keeper

Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones.

Chapter 95: Quietus

Alysanne's POV

It was a long week down the Kingsroad passing the Neck. There weather being different. There was still snow in the Riverlands, but not as thick as the North. A smooth progression as we made camp resting for two days after trudging through the snow. We reached a town-village and took refuge, using the large houses as an infirmary.

Jorah and I took refuge in a small house. I sat by the fire, watching the dragon eggs soak up the heat—the impulse to keep them in the fire to the best to my ability. The flames were captivating, swirls, and flickers of red, orange, blue, and white. How it dances around the wood crackling about.

I sighed, "How long until we reach the Crownlands?"

"About two weeks, the ground will be mud and sludge," Jorah answered. "Once we reach the Crownlands, it will be frost."

I nodded, tossing another log in, "Daenerys should be in Dorne by now. I bet she is enjoying the weather."

"You could get on Viserion and fly south," he offered. "Grey Worm and I can handle the army."

I smiled softly, "Viserion is still recovering. I don't want to pressure him."

Jorah nodded; he came over, wrapping his arms around me. "Shall I keep you warm tonight?"

I chuckled, leaning back into him, "You always keep me warm."

Jorah nodded nuzzling into my neck. It has been a week since we've been intimate. As much as he kept me warm from the ship after the expedition. However, after marching through the snow, and being saddle-sore, all I want to do is curl into a ball and sleep. Jorah understands that. It's not like we are trying to have an heir right now. Still, it would be nice to have some cozy time.

I turned around to face Jorah, wrapping my arms around his neck, bringing him closer for a kiss.

He kissed back as his beard scraped along my cheeks. It started off soft and gentle until it grew passionate. It was late, and I knew the door was locked, so we had our privacy. Jorah picked me up as he set me on the table.

Things were getting serious, our hands working on our tunics when there was a knock on the door. We stopped what we were doing and glance at the door. It better be crucial for someone to be knocking on the door at this time of night. Otherwise, it will be hell to pay. My council is aware none shall be disturbing us unless it was an emergency.

"Who is it?" I said.

"It's Varys and I," Tyrion called out.

I sighed, getting off the table and straighten myself before Jorah went over to open the door, letting the two in. They entered, wiping the snow off their shoulders. At first, I thought this would be the usual update on the soldiers. However, Grey Worm and Missandei were not here. Along with the look on Varys's face.

"What songs do your little birds sing?" I asked.

Varys took a deep breath, "Daenerys did not make it to Dorne. She took the coastal route, reaching Dragonstone when…"

My heart tightens, "When…"

"Euron and twelve of his ships attack Drogon from the sky," Varys reported

"No…" I gasped while my eyes water.

"Princess Daenerys has survived her fall," Varys assured.

I sighed in relief.

"But…" Jorah implied.

"Euron Greyjoy has captured her and taken your sister to King's Landing. Cersei has Daenerys in a black cell." Varys reported.

I nearly stumbled, yet Jorah caught me. It was like someone punched me in the chest. My sister was Cersei's prisoner and placed in a black cell. I've never seen the Black Cells, but I heard the stories. Hell, Tyrion was locked in a Black Cell after his trial. Many good people were tossed in the Black Cell for severe crimes. How it is dark and cold, and rodents scurrying about. It brought back memories of the House of the Undying. The countless corridors and tunnels in the dark.

Jorah set me down, trying to help me calm down.

"Get Grey Worm and Missandei," I managed to say.

Jorah went over to the door where two Unsullied soldiers stood guard and rush to get Grey Worm and Missandei. It would be twenty minutes before Grey Worm and Missandei arrived. I try to keep my composure, while Jorah set the table to get the meeting assembled. This put me in a predicament. Daenerys…although she is my sister, she is also like a daughter to me. I practically raised her when we were kicked out of our home in Braavos. I made a promise to Mother I would protect her. Cersei basically has the upper hand. Do I do what is best for the realm or…

I can't even think about it.

Jorah informed the two of what has transpired. Ideas were being passed around, while I stared at the map of King's Landing. Grey Worm spoke up, catching my attention.

"We will storm the city, my Queen. We will kill your enemies. All of them."

"Your Grace," Varys called out that I stared at him. "I promised you I would look you in the eyes and speak directly if I thought you were making a mistake." As his dark hazel eyes stared at me.

"This is a mistake."

"They have my sister," I managed to say. "They shot Drogon down, and took Daenerys."

"Cersei needs to be destroyed, but if we attack King's Landing with Viserion, the Unsullied and the Dothraki, and the gather armies, tens of thousands of innocent people will die. That is why Cersei is bringing them into the Red Keep." Varys explained. "These are the people you came here to protect. I beg you, Your Grace. Do not destroy the city you came to save. Do not become what you have always struggled to defeat."

I looked down, picking up the lion totem off the map. My thumb caressing the muzzle while my fingers dig into the mane. Varys has a point. As much as I would rather charge into the attack to get my sister, countless lives will be dead. Taking a deep breath, I put the totem down.

"Thank you for reminding me," I breathed.

Varys nodded, relieved that I took his advice.

"It could be a fortnight before our allied armies make it to King's Landing," Tyrion said.

"Three weeks with this weather," Jorah corrected.

Tyrion merely nodded, and continued, "In the meantime, demand Cersei to surrender. Offer her her life in exchange for the throne."

I thought about it. Should I spare the woman who might have killed Drogon, and captured Daenerys. Let alone her breaking the armistice. Humanity needed the Lannister army and the Crownland forces, yet she stood us up. The more fighting participants we had, the greater out advantages of winning. Tyrion realized my hesitation.

"If there's a chance to avoiding the coming slaughter, we should make an effort," Tyrion pleaded.

"Speaking to Cersei will not prevent a slaughter," I finally spoke.

Varys looked down in disappointment. "But will the slaughter be by the people overthrowing her or by our original plan. In the end, it's good the people see that Alysanne Targaryen made every effort to avoid bloodshed, and Cersei refused."

"We continued as planned?" Jorah asked to be sure.

"Yes," I forced out, then stared at Varys. "Send a raven to Prince Doran to have the Dornish marching. The same to Lord Willas, Celtigar, Velaryon, and Redwyne fleet ready."

"Of course," Varys replied. "Anything else?"

"Yes, I will be heading to Dragonstone to scout for any signs of Drogon," I added.

All the men panicked and protested.

"Is that wise?" Missandei asked.

"I need confirmation if the dragons are at risk," I said. "If Drogon is dead…" I took another deep breath. "Then I will have to ask King Jon a favor to send Rhaegal. We will need as much of the dragons we have if we are going against the Ironfleet."

"And I will go with her," Jorah added, wrapping his arm around me.

"I think you should stay with the army," Tyrion implored. "We will send scouts."

"Tyrion," I warned. "Give us four days. If anything were to happen to us, continue the plan as followed. What matters now is getting a tyrant off the Iron Throne."

"And if anything were to happen to you, who will be your heir?" Tyrion asked.

I took a deep breath, "I will write down who the heir will be and give it to Missandei. If Daenerys or I do not survive this war, she will give you the document. Who I select, you must let them decide to accept? If the individual refuses, then you go down the list."

Varys and Tyrion nodded. With nothing else to say, the council was dismissed while I sat down at the table feeling bile stuck in my stomach. Wanting to puke, scream, and cry—the urge to just continue marching south and attack King's Landing.

Jorah came over, resting a hand on my shoulder, "We will get her back."

I took a deep breath, my eyes burning with tears, "Not without a price."

Jorah took a deep breath, kneeling down and taking my hands, "If you have to abdicate to save your sister, I do not blame you. But from my conversations with the other Southern lords, even with you removing yourself, they will still attack King's Landing and put you back on the Iron Throne."

"Wouldn't they want someone with a cock to be ruling?" I muttered.

He snorted, "Maybe so. But they know you fought in the Great War. They know you've slain the Ice Dragon. You may be a woman, yet you are a warrior."

I sighed, resting my head on his shoulder, "I'm scared."

He wrapped his arms around me, "I know."

"I can't lose her, Jorah," I mumbled. "She is the only family I have left."

I know Jorah is family, being my husband; however, he was not blood or had the years I had with my sister. Yet he understands. He knows the bond Daenerys and I have. We are sisters.

Once I managed to calm myself, I grabbed a parchment to write my will, in proclaiming who my heir will be, if I do not survive this war.

I wrote it in Bastard Valyrian since Varys only understand High Valyrian. I wrote clear instructions to Missandei what to do if Daenerys and my death arrive. Jorah made it clear if I were to die and no heir of our own, that he will not continue as king. So, I wrote that Jon will be king, only by his choice. If he accepts the title, he must tell his secret. If Jon were to refuse, then as promised, the Martells will be the next ruler by Quentyn Martell, since he is my distant cousin. The chain was made in those I believe who can rule Westeros before putting it in an envelope and sealed it in black wax with a dragon seal.

.o0o.

Jorah and I arrived at Dragonstone. Throughout the journey, we travel through the clouds and through our ally's territory. Crossing the Riverlands and Vale of Arryn until flying south to reach Dragonstone. Viserion health was getting better, yet restrains himself from using fire. Mainly have the food cook for him until he is capable of doing it himself.

"Keep an eye out," Jorah said. "Any sighting of Euron's ships, and we turn back."

"Agreed," I replied, looking about and rested a hand on Viserion. "Do you sense your brother, Viserion?"

Viserion shriek, a signal call before giving a purr, which caused his body to vibrate. Seismic communication as Visenya calls it. A particular type of harmonic wavelength that individual animals obtain to communicate from long distances. If one listens closely, you can hear a slight humming.

We continue to fly around Dragonstone in search of Drogon.

That black dragon is difficult to kill. His scales are close to Valyrian steel, only another dragon could hurt him hard. Then again, thinking back to the Battle of the Goldroad…when that ballista…the scorpion struck Drogon in the shoulder.

Viserion tensed, I turn to Jorah, "He found something, hold on."

Jorah did so, as Viserion dived towards one of the beaches. A small cove where there is a cave. Viserion landed almost gliding along the sand. Once we were secured, we removed our harness before getting off to evaluate this situation. Viserion continued to hum, pointing towards the cave.

"Drogon is in there," I noted.

"Are you sure?" Jorah asked.

I nodded, "Stay here."

Jorah nodded, standing by Viserion. We made a torch to provide light before going in. I took a deep breath, making my way towards the cave. The smell of sulfur and dragon's breath filled the air. I walked through the tunnel, relying on the torch, as it reflected on the volcanic rock.

Warmth filled the air, indicating that a spring was inside here. When I reached the cavern, I found Drogon curled into a ball. Three bolts lodged into his body. His breathing was irregular, indicating he was still in pain and haven't been adequately fed.

"You poor thing," I sighed, walking over.

Drogon opened his fiery eyes and stared at me, giving a groan. I came closer, resting a hand on his cheek, feeling how cold he was, despite the spring on the other side of the cavern.

"You are strong, just like your namesake," I murmured. "Allow me to remove the bolts."

Drogon merely bobbed his head. I set the torch down and walked over to his shoulder, where the first bolt was. I took hold of the shaft, noting that it was lodged in there deep. Not the same craftsmanship from the previous bolt from the Goldroad. That one had an arrowhead. Drogon growl and groan, grinding his teeth as I muster all my strength to pull it out. It took some tug until it popped out, then forcing me down while Drogon roared in pain. I examined the pointed end, to see how advanced it was, almost to that of a spearhead and grappling hook combined. There were blood and bits of flesh, yet the cold winter weather coagulated the wound from bleeding.

I softly sang a Valyrian song to soothe Drogon to ease his pain as I climbed onto his back to get the last two bolts. Each one I took out hurt, which Drogon cried out, practically knocking me off. The impact of sand and rock stunned me for a moment. On the second, I managed to keep balance. In the end, Drogon was in no condition to fly any time soon, as I feel how tender his muscles were, an indication of internal bruising. The impact from his fall, no doubt.

I carefully got off him and went back to his face.

"Drogon, is Daenerys still alive?" I asked.

The black dragon bobbed his head then gave a whimper.

I sighed in relief, patting his snout, "Get some rest."

The fiery eyes stared at me for a moment, before lulling back to sleep. I took the three bolts, and the torch before leaving the cavern. Jorah and Viserion remained where they were. When I came out, Jorah rushed over, taking hold of the bolts. He put two down and examined them.

"How is Drogon?" He asked.

"He's alive, but in no condition to fly. The bolts got him in the shoulder and back. He will have to rest," I answered.

"How long?" he asked.

"I don't know," I confessed. "He is fortunate it didn't get him in the head, neck, or chest where the ice dragon wounded him."

Jorah nodded.

I turned to Viserion, "Find food for Drogon."

Viserion nodded as he turned around, taking off to the bay. There haven't been any sightings of ships. The perfect opportunity gets the dragons fed and Drogon stable before returning back to the army.

"We should head back to the castle," I suggested.

Jorah nodded as he gathers our gear. I collected what I could carry, as we made our way to Dragonstone.

.o0o.

The Castle was cleared from any Ironborn or any Cersei's men spying. Still, we took caution in the Master Apartment. Our plan is to rest for the day, and see how Drogon is before returning to the army. Four days Tyrion and Varys can accept. Otherwise, they will panic.

Jorah was setting up a fire while I air out the room securing the shudders and dusting off the bedding. It was a peaceful quiet, yet, my mind has been swirling about, thinking how Daenerys was doing. How she is kept in a black cell, instead of a noble cell. Making it clear that Cersei doesn't hold the honor conduct.

"Jorah…" I started.

Jorah had finished making the fire and looked up, facing me.

"Have you…what do you know about the Black Cells?" I asked.

He sighed as he came over, before sitting on the bed, and gestured me to sit down next to him, "What do you know about the Blacks Cells?"

"I know it is dark, cold and wet," I answered.

Jorah sighed. My knowledge about the Red Keep is not ideal. Even Visenya hasn't told me much about it. All I knew about the Red Keep, is the basics, and that it was my home for three years. But now…I don't know. Especially hearing Tyrion telling me about the Black Cells, but vaguely from his experience.

"I was never put in a black cell," he said. "But the Red Keep's dungeon is divided into four levels. The first level cells with high narrow windows where common criminals are confined together. The second level has smaller, personal cells without windows for highborn captives. Daenerys is being kept in the third level, known as the Black cells, reserved for the most vile and dangerous criminals. A room with no windows, or any source of light. No human necessities. One would say it was one of the cycles of the Seven Hells."

I took a deep breath, wondering how Daenerys is doing in the void.

"And what is the fourth level?" I asked.

He took a deep breath, "The torture chamber."

I inhaled sharply.

"We will get her back," he promised.

I nodded, yet my stomach turns disagreeing. Like I was dreading the inevitable. If Tyrion can arrange the trade, to save Daenerys. Even it means I stand down and let the council, the Dornish, and the Reachmen take care of it, even if the Unsullied and Dothraki are not involved. However, I'm scared—the same fear and anxiety when Drogo died, fearing if the Kos will attack us.

It's like anytime I have a moment of happiness, something negative comes up. All I want is peace. A part of me wonders if we had just stayed in Meereen. But then Westeros would be no more. Jorah sighed as he helped me to the bathing chamber.

"Come, a bath will help," He suggested.

I only nodded, following his lead.

The rest of the night has been bathing, eating, and going to bed early. I laid in Jorah's arms as he rubbed my back to give comfort. Yet the stress and anxiety were building up. My body ached. Until listening to the sound of the waves lulling myself to sleep.

.o0o.

The following day, we checked on Drogon, finding him still recovering. Viserion had got enough massive fish for his brother. We debated if we should stay another night or head back. A part of me wanted to stay, but I knew I was no use to Drogon. All he could do is sleeping, and hiding in the cave is enough security.

So, backing our things, we got on Viserion and returned to mainland towards the army. The entire flight was silent, mentally trying to contact Visenya for her words of guidance. Sadly, she was not responding. I mentally cursed, for I need her guidance right now. My sister is held captive, and I don't know what to do. If Cersei doesn't accept my offer to stay alive…will she offers to trade Daenerys for me to step down or…no, I can't think of the possibility of death. If I was asked to step down to save my sister, I would do it in a heartbeat.

Many scenarios swirling in my head that I felt sick. That I just wanted to scream. Yet all I can do is pray. Hoping the Seven can hear my prayers. They have heard before, and I pray they do so again.

When we returned to the army, Tyrion and Varys were relieved to see us back. They stared at me in question.

"Drogon is alive, but badly injured," I said. "We managed to get him some food for a few days."

Tyrion nodded.

"Any news?" I asked.

"None so far, we sent an envoy, all we can do is wait," Tyrion explained.

I can only nod.

We continued our journey south down the Kingsroad. Missandei staying by my side, trying her best to calm my anxiety. However, when we make camp or taken over an abandoned village, I would feel sick and puke, more like drive heaving. It was not a sickness, since there is no fever. But the council was a concern since they didn't want me ill, so a healer checked on me daily. All I know, my anxiety was getting the best of me—especially the nightmares about Daenerys.

A few days passed in our travel when our envoy returned. He reported that Queen Cersei will have a word with us outside of King's Landing at the Gate of the Gods. I pray we can negotiate on terms. The council made it clear that we should try to negotiate. Only having the Unsullied go down along with the Dothraki. We cannot have Cersei be aware that House Tyrell and House Wensington have alliances with us.

I just pray we can get Daenerys back.

.o0o.

Daenerys's POV

Daenerys sat in the dark. All around her was dark, cold, and wet. She sat in a corner, her fingers touching the hay and straw under her. The air smelled foul, not of mold, but death and feces. If not, rodents passing, some nipping her limbs now and then. But she will not let the Black Cells destroy her spirit. She knows Alysanne is marching down to get her. One thing you don't want to mess with is separating this family.

Still, in the darkness, she contemplated about her life. At this point, it was clear Cersei will not yield or surrender. Even if Tyrion makes an offer that anyone could not refuse. However, it was clear, even a city of gold Cersei will decline and retaliate. It came to a point Daenerys has accepted her fate. She will not come out in one piece or alive.

At first, after a few days of grasping the concept, she cried. Muffling her wails into her ragged dress that she was forced to wear. Once the tears dried up, she contemplated her fate. If she was going to die, she will become a martyr and motivate Alysanne. This city was done for. Plagued by the twenty-something years of Baratheon/Lannister corruption. If it was her, she would burn it all and start over—a city of ashes with Cersei on top of a pile of the court's corpses.

As time went on, the anger subsides, knowing violence will never be the answer. She has accepted death. Unless the Small Council figures out a compromised, she was a dead woman. Only time will tell. In the end, she did what she barely did, and that was praying and contemplate what her life has been. Time vanished, and all the memories she can remember of her life.

Remembering Ser Willem Darry with the house of the Red Door and lemon trees, the trials, and travel throughout the free cities, the life on the run. Pentos, her marriage to Drogo, and the life with the Dothraki. Her friends, Irri and Jhiqui, her betrayal from Doreah. The pregnancy with Rhaego.

The tears formed, thinking about her son. If she were to die, she hopes to be reunited with her son. It brought back memories in the House of the Undying. The illusions the warlocks made of Drogo and Rhaego together in the hut. She wanted to be reunited with her family, out of the three men in her life, Drogo, Daario, and Jon. Drogo made her happy once they were able to communicate. He gave her everything that he can. Despite the Dothraki culture, he values her, never shared her, and listen to her words putting things into consideration. Drogo, she truly loved, learned to love, and grown to love.

As much as she loved Alysanne and would love to see her nieces and nephews, …she will hold her back. It was clear Alysanne has always put Daenerys first. Protecting her from Viserys and assassins. Practically starved so she could survive. All the scars Alysanne had on her body, the majority she knew were from protecting her.

A sob escaped, for she truly didn't want to die.

However, she can feel death.

She remembers that horrid nightmare in Meereen when Alysanne died. How the Stranger entered the room, hovering over, and sang a hymn before placing the kiss of death on her sister's lips ending the life. The golden eyes turned red, staring at her. The hymn echoing in her head to a point, she whispered the lyrics to herself.

"Wither and decay…end this destiny…break these earthly chains, and set the spirit free." She mumbled.

She felt a presence as if the Stranger was in the room. The deity slithered through the shadows before kneeling before her. She could barely make out its shape yet felt frail hands taking hold of her own, giving a tender squeeze. Follow by the dim lighting of light, comparing them to fireflies. The Stranger was here, despite not being devoted like her sister, she has been connected to the God of Death. Sensing the entity since Viserys death. Now the Stranger was here, comforting her of her demise.

Suddenly, the door opened as the Unchained Maester and the Hand of the Queen, known as Qyburn, entered holding a torch with a few of the Queensguard. At least not the Mountain. She can't stand being in the presence of the man who slaughters Elia, Rhaenys, and Aegon…she couldn't.

"Princess Daenerys," Qyburn greeted.

"It's Khaleesi," she corrected, her voice faint.

Qyburn nodded, "Apologies, Khaleesi, I bring you news."

She lifted her head to stare at him, wondering what the willow man brings.

"Tomorrow, at the Gate of the Gods, there shall be a gathering to negotiate terms of surrender," he explained. "Allow me to escort you to your new chambers."

Daenerys was confused, wondering why she was being moved. The two Queensguard stepped forward, collecting her arms and helped her up. She was still weak since her meals were that of stale bread. Yet the two knights carried her through the long corridors and up the steps to the first level of the dungeon. Qyburn opened the door as the men took her inside and set her on the wooden bed with a hay mattress. There were narrow windows, yet light from the sun was shining through. Her eyes cringed, adjusting to the sudden lighting.

"I brought some blankets, and a bucket of warm water should you need to refresh yourself," Qyburn said. "A hot meal should be arriving soon."

"Why are you helping me?" Daenerys asked.

Qyburn sighed, "To ensure you have one night of comfort."

Daenerys inhale sharply, this could be her last night alive. She also assumed if she were to die, and the siege happens, then Qyburn's attempt to bring comfort could spare him. She doubts Alysanne will give pardon to Qyburn if she were to die.

The knights and Qyburn left, giving her privacy. Once alone, Daenerys walked over to the narrow window to stare out to see King's Landing. Seeing the Kingdom, she could have ruled at her sister's side. The entire time she sat there watching the rises and sets. Ignoring Qyburn, who brought the food to her, and other things. As the men set a bowl of stew with bread. When he was gone, Daenerys ate while watching the sunset.

She doubts she could sleep. All she wanted to do is stay awake, savoring every ounce of being alive before her eternal sleep. Watching the sun go down, and the moon rises. Counting the stars and watching the moon disappear being chased by the sun.

As expected, Qyburn returns with a bucket of hot water, a hairbrush, and her clothes. While a knight set a tray of porridge. They did not say a word as they left. Knowing this was her day, Daenerys did the best she could to make herself presentable. Brushing the weeks of knots, and putting on her clothes and ring. She was thankful for the willow man let her have her sibling ring.

Just as she finished, the door opened.

Qyburn entered, "It is time."

Daenerys sighed, not saying a word. The Queensguard came in, shackling her hands. She did not fight, knowing there is no use. By the time she reached the courtyard, she had saw Cersei comes out wearing her red velvet dress with Ser Gregor and Euron by her side. The lioness stared at her with a vindictive stare. One that promised pain. Daenerys only glared back at her. Cersei merely smirked as she got in the palanquin while Euron got on a horse. Ser Gregor came over to her, taking hold of the chains that were attached to her shackles. That was when she realized she will be dragged through the streets towards the Gate of the Gods.

The party marched through the courtyard, where the people who became refugees watched. The people staring at her, whispering and murmuring. Some chanting insults about the Targaryens. Blaming her for the misfortunes during her father's reign.

It was a long journey, the streets crowded by the people screaming at her. The Queensguard surrounding her, preventing anyone's attempt to touch her, or anything else. Daenerys only kept her head up high, ensuring that a Targaryen stands strong. Not to appear weak. Not letting the pain and humiliation tear her down. The ache in her feet, from the long walk, seeing the worse in humanity.

It will be around noon did they arrive at the Gate of the Gods. The gate starts the route to the Kingsroad. On top of the city's walls battlement were ballistas, the Scorpions aimed at the army. There stood four thousand Unsullied stood in formation in front of one of the gates of King's Landing. The Targaryen banners being held up high, while three elephants stood at the ready. Viserion was a half-mile away, keeping a distance as part of the terms for negotiation.

Center of the group Daenerys could make out Alysanne wearing armor, with Grey Worm and Jorah on each side of her. Along with Tyrion, Varys, and Missandei. Daenerys felt some joy in seeing her sister. When all of a sudden, the Dothraki charged in and scurry behind of a thousand men, as an intimidation tactic.

Daenerys saw Cersei sneered at the sight of this.

The Mother of Dragons couldn't help but smirk.

.o0o.

Gate of the Gods

"Is this going to work," Alysanne asked Tyrion.

"Have faith," Tyrion assured. "I will get your sister back. I know my sister."

Alysanne took a deep breath and stared at Jorah, who only nodded. Everyone was in armor; incase a battle will happen or archers firing. Tension has risen the day they reached the border of King's Landing. They have been here since the early hours of dawn, waiting on negotiation and terms. Alysanne let Tyrion know, if she has to step down in order to save Daenerys, she will. It was something Tyrion hopes he doesn't have to.

Tyrion convinced to spare Cersei if his sister were to step down, have her exiled from Westeros with funding to live in either Braavos or Pentos. To start a new life as a rich woman. Alysanne would rather have Cersei face justice for the crimes she has committed over the past five years but conceded in putting exile on the table.

Grey Worm orders the Unsullied into attention.

The gates opened enough to let Qyburn out. Tyrion took that as a sign to start the negotiation. Taking a deep breath, Tyrion walked the distance to the gate to meet the unchained Maester. He glanced up, staring at his sister, examining Daenerys's condition. Yet the height of the wall made it hard to make out. The two Hands of the Queen's met in the middle.

"My lord," Qyburn greeted with a bow.

"Queen Alysanne's demands Cersei's unconditional surrender and the immediate release of

Princess Daenerys, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea," Tyrion said, going straight to the point.

Qyburn stared down at Tyrion, "Queen Cersei demands Alysanne's unconditional surrender. If she refuses, Princess Daenerys will die here and now."

Tyrion's poker face dropped, "Qyburn…you're a rational man."

"Or so I flatter myself, my lord," Qyburn replied.

"We have a chance here, perhaps our last chance, to avoid the carnage," Tyrion warned.

"Yes," Qyburn agreed.

"Help me. I don't want to see this city burn," Tyrion calmly pleaded. "I don't want to hear the screams of children burning alive."

Qyburn sighed, "No, it is not a pleasant sound."

"I—I don't want to hear it. Help me save this city," Tyrion said, and silently offered the Unchained Maester his security.

"My lord, I am only the mouthpiece for our queen," Qyburn proclaimed.

"Your queen," Tyrion corrected.

"Cersei is Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You are her subject."

"Her reign is over. You understand this. Help her understand it."

"We understand nothing of the sort. Your Queen's dragons are vulnerable. Your armies are battle-weary and depleted, while ours have been reinforced with the Golden Company."

Tyrion had enough and walked past Qyburn making his way over to the gate. He was about twenty feet away from the gate. The archers getting into position, drawing their bow. Cersei raised her hand, having the power to give the order. She stared down at her brother, having the opportunity to kill the vile beast that took her mother and ruined her life. A moment passed as she stared at her youngest brother. The brother she despised. Here was her opportunity.

However, Jaime's words on having mercy with Tyrion had her lower her arm in disgust. The archers lower their bow going back to attention.

Tyrion took a deep breath as he spoke loudly, so Cersei could hear, "I know you don't care about your people. Why should you? They hate you and you hate them. But you're not a monster. I know this. I know this because I've seen it. You've always loved your children—more than yourself, more than Jaime…more than anything. I beg you. If not for yourself, then for your child. Your reign is over, but that doesn't mean your life has to end. It doesn't mean your baby has to die."

Cersei's eyes water as she exhales sharply. Does she take the offer and abdicate for the sake of her unborn child? Disregard more than half of her life, she wasted as her father's pawn to put a Lannister on the Iron Throne. She thought about her firstborn son, a boy with dark hair who could not survive infancy. And then came Joffrey, who was taken away by poison at his own wedding. Myrcella, taken by poison as collateral damage between the Lannisters and Martells. And finally, Tommen, sweet Tommen, a boy manipulated by everyone and committed suicide to escape the madness. All the pain and suffering she endured for Tywin's Legacy.

Her green eyes focused on Alysanne. Though off in the distance, she can barely make out the tension the woman was going through. The fear of losing someone she loved, despite the protection of armor she wore.

The Last Targaryen, Cersei thought.

After a moment, contemplating her decision, Cersei stepped over to Daenerys grasping her arm tightly as she murmured, "If you have any last words, now is the time."

Daenerys bowed her head as the tears fell. So, this was it then. She was going to die. There wasn't enough time for the Unsullied and Viserion to reach over and get her. After what she has seen in King's Landing, the pollution, corruption, and poison…it should not remain. No longer were they in King's Landing where her ancestor Aegon the Conqueror stood. The Kingdom that secured the Targaryen dynasty. No, it is something that needed to be erased from the world. A plague that needed to be eradicated.

Daenerys raised her head and stared at Alysanne. Her eyes filled with venom, hoping these words will haunt her sister to do the right thing. Words that will be repeated once more.

"Burn them all!" Daenerys exclaimed from the top of her lungs.

Alysanne's eyes widen when hearing those words. The same exact words their father used. The Dragon Queen knew Daenerys was telling her this was the end, and to destroy this city. All who knew of the Mad King's demise were baffled to hear those words.

Cersei smirked as she stepped away and nodded to Ser Gregor to step forward. The Mountain

drew his sword as he approached the Mother of Dragons. Daenerys kept her eyes forward, locked to her sister. Alysanne noticing this, lunged forward, except Jorah wrapped his arms around his wife's waist, restraining her. He tried to turn her to look away, yet Alysanne tried to fight him off, seeing the sword being raised.

"Sōvēs," Daenerys whispered.

The Mountain raised his sword and decapitated Daenerys. Her head sliced off, falling first along with her body crashing onto the soil ground in front of the gate. Blood seeping out, coating the earth in dragon's blood. Tyrion's face cringed as he turned around to see Alysanne fall to her knees in utter horror. The color in her cheeks vanished, while those indigo eyes dull and darken as they screamed from the top of her lungs. A scream one can almost compare to a dragon, a shriek of a mother losing a child.

Then it became silent.

Utter silence.

Not even Viserion made a sound.

Suddenly Alysanne head shot up as she stood taking a few paces forward.

"Cersei Lannister, mark my words. When the day comes, I willcast you down and take all that you hold dear!"

Cersei inhales sharply for those were the words of Maggy the Frog gave her.

With nothing else to say, Alysanne turned around and walked through her army. The men watching her leave in fearing what just happened. Fearing that Cersei Lannister had woken the dragon.

Uh Oh...

What will happen next?

Hymn is from the Tangle Series.

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