Beyond the Wall…
Bran continues his training, his eyes glazed white as he experienced more visions of the past. Yesterday he learned the origins of the Night King and the White Walkers with the Three-Eyed Raven: the Children of the Forest—Leaf in particular—slowly drove a shard of dragonglass into the heart of a captive First Men bound to the weirwood tree until it disappears inside his chest, causing his eyes to turn blue. When confronted, Leaf defended her people's actions since the Children of the Forest were at war with the First Men thousands of years ago.
Nearby, his direwolf Summer, Hodor, Meera and the Three-Eyed Raven were sleeping. Deciding to explore more visions, to truly understand the past, Bran drags his crippled self over to the roots and takes hold of them. Gasping quietly, Bran's eyes turned white once again and warged into the past once more, although the surroundings were unfamiliar. Covered in a snowy blizzard, Bran turned around and gasped in shock.
"W-what the…?!"
Behind him was the entire Army of the Dead standing in attendance. Bran cautiously approached them and then among their ranks, somewhat bewildered and amazed they haven't noticed his presence yet. On the other side of the army, he finds the Night King and four White Walker lieutenants on horseback. Before he could react, Bran froze when he sees the Night King staring directly at him.
'He sees me,' the young Stark realized.
In near unison, the entire Army of the Dread turned their decaying faces and stared directly on him. Feeling every gaze of the undead staring at him, Bran turns around before turning back again to see the Night King standing behind him. He recoils, but by then it was too late as the Night King grabbed his forearm.
"AAHHH!" he screams in agony.
Awoken into the present and ending his vision, Bran gasps, sweats and pants heavily before quickly releases his grip on the tree root—the sensation on his forearm stung and burned badly. His loud screams alerted Meera, Hodor, Summer, Leaf and the Three-Eyed Raven from their sleep; more Children of the Forest entered the cave at the level of disturbance.
"He saw me!" he shouted. "The Night King saw me! He saw me!"
The Three-Eyed Raven noticed Bran's forearm. "He touched you," he noticed.
Bran pulls back his sleeve, revealing a handprint on his forearm.
"Now he knows where you are. He'll come for you."
"But he can't get in."
"He can now," the old man countered cautiously. "His mark is on you." He turned his attention towards Bran's other companions. "You must leave, all of you."
Meera was the first to act. "Come on, Hodor. Help me with the sledge," she tells him.
"Hodor. Hodor," the large simpleminded servant panicked.
Bran looked up at his mentor. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to," he said apologetically.
The Three-Eyed Raven looked unconcerned at his approaching fate. "The time has come," he said simply.
"The time for what?"
"For you to become me."
"But am I ready?" he asked.
The old man shook his head. "No." Once gaze at Bran and his eyes turned white, forcing Bran's to do the same.
Motionless and flooded with every vision from the past, Bran laid stiff as Meera and Hodor prepared for travel.
"We have to go, Hodor. This cave isn't safe anymore," she calls out. "Eat something that isn't moss. I want an egg. How do you like 'em? Hmm? Boiled? Fried up with some butter?"
"Hodor."
"With a rasher of bacon and some blood sausage, and—" Meera notices the air has quickly become so cold she can see her breath and the temperature suddenly dropping. She looks at Bran and runs to the entrance of the cave.
Leaf and the other Children of the Forest are gathered outside armed with magic projectiles. Across the field, the Night King accompanied by three White Walkers and the entire Army of the Dead are gathered. Sensing that his marking on Bran's right forearm had bypassed the powerful magic keeping his forces out of the cave, the Night King kneels and places his hand on the ground—causing a rift to crack through the ice all across the field and into the Great Weirwood Tree.
"Meera, get Bran and run!" Leaf yelled.
Meera ran back into the cave, retrieving a sword on the way back. Unsheathing his blade, the Night King leads his undead forces towards the cave. Now in the fight of their lives, the remaining Children of the Forest threw magic spheres at their undead enemies.
*BOOM!*
*BOOM!*
*BOOM!*
*BOOM!*
One by one, the spheres explode upon contact—killing some of the wights. With one of the last bombs, Leaf lights a half-circle of flame in front of the entrance of the cave and runs back inside with her people. The Night King, however, was looked unimpressed and approached the flames with his White Walker lieutenants; the flames part to let them pass, then reforms. Since the Army of the Dead cannot pass through, each climbs up the cliffs and climb the crag to the top to look for another way in.
Inside, Bran's eyes remained white and stuck in a vision taking place at Winterfell. He could hear the faintest cries of Meera shaking him. "Bran! Bran, wake up!"
Soon a wight falls through the ceiling and advances on Meera; the female Crannogmen grabs her sword and cuts it down with ease. Another wight falls from above, causing Meera to recoil. Summer lunges forth and tackles it to the ground, tearing the undead apart with its vicious fangs. Leaf looks up to spot a third wight jumping down before getting suspended upside down by its feet. The Child of the Forest beheads it with her knife.
Another wight rushes, but Leaf shoots it with an arrow. More Children of the Forest enter to combat the undead forces swarming the cave and fight a desperate battle to fight them off. One wight kills a Child of the Forest; all while Meera and Hodor continue trying to wake Bran up and escort him out of the cave.
"Bran, we're all going to die! Bran! Bran!" she screams. "We need Hodor. We need Hodor. Warg into Hodor now! Now!"
In the vision, Bran twisted and turned at the faintest sound of Meera's voice. With him, the Three-Eyed Raven nodded.
"Listen to your friend, Brandon," he tells him. "The time has come. Leave me."
Hodor's eyes flash white as more wights enter the cave. One of them kills another Child of the Forest. Meera cuts it down. Another Child of the Forest jumps forward and stabs another wight with a spear. While Hodor stands and walks over to Bran, a White Walker enters. The spear-bearing Child of the Forest lunges at it and stabs it in the chest, but the blow has no effect. The White Walker pushes the spear aside and stabs the Child of the Forest, killing her. Hodor lifts the sledge with Bran atop it. Meera grabs a dragonglass spear and launches it into the White Walker's neck, causing it to shatter and dies. She and Leaf then follow Hodor towards the back entrance.
Behind them, Summer growls and bares its teeth at the wights entering the cave.
"Summer!" Meera shouts. "Come, Summer! We have to go!"
Leaf shoved her forward. "He's buying us time to escape. Now go. Go!" she hollered as they run into the back tunnel.
As tens if not hundreds of wights flood into the cave, Bran's direwolf Summer stays behind to protect its master. Summer attacked the wights and lunged forth; although the animal manages to tackle two or three of them to the ground, the undead easily swarm around the direwolf and repeatedly stab Summer to death.
Elsewhere, Leaf, Meera and Hodor hurry down the back tunnel dragging Bran on the sledge. Still stuck in a vision, he doesn't realize a slew of wights pursuing them. Back in the center of the cave, the Night King enters and slowly approaches the Three-Eyed Raven—ice blade in hand. Confined by the Great Weirwood Tree's roots and unable to move, the last greenseer was resigned to his fate. Raising his weapon, the Night King swiftly swung his blade—carving the Three-Eyed Raven diagonally across the torso.
In Bran's vision, he witnesses his mentor breaking apart and blows away as dust, ashes and rags, leaving him alone.
Running down the back tunnel, Leaf stops running and turns to face the undead army advancing on their position.
"What are you doing?" Meera calls out.
"Go!" Leaf yells.
She brandishes a magic bomb and primes it. The wights overtake her and knock her to the ground, stabbing her repeatedly. Releasing her grip on the weapon, Leaf detonates the bomb, killing herself and the hundreds of wights surrounding her. Hodor reaches the rear door and puts down the sledge so he could ram down the door. More wights appear and begin advancing.
"Hodor, hurry!" Meera shouts in a panic.
Hodor heaves the door open and drags the sledge outside. He drops it down and returns to the door, holding it closed with his body against the wooden frame and grips the handles as tightly as he possibly could. Knowing this was the last time they were going to see him, Meera lifts up the sledge carrying Bran and drags it away. She didn't look back.
"Hold the door!"
In Bran's vision, he stares at young Wylis who stares back at him. When more "Hold the door! Hold the door! Hold the door!" shouts echoed throughout the vision, Wylis' eyes turn white and falls to the ground convulsing.
"Wylis! What's the matter?" Old Nan exclaimed horrified, kneeling down beside him.
"Hold the door!" Wylis cried out out in a terrible seizure. "Hold the door! Hold the door! Hold the door! Hold the door! Hold the door! Hold the door! Hold the door! Hold the door! Hold door! Hold door! Hold door! Hodor! Hodor! Hodor! Hodor! Hodor!"
Outside, Hodor continues pressing his full weight against the door as wights begin breaking through. They clutch his clothing and begin tearing at his flesh; no matter how much pain Hodor was in, he did not budge. Hodor kept holding the door shut behind him to give Meera time to escape with the still unconscious Bran—sacrificing his life as the wights tore him apart in their attempt to break out of the cave.
—Near the Wall—
Heavy snow is falling. Meera felt stressed out and emotionally drained; she endured and yet lost so much to ensure Bran was taken to see the Three-Eyed Raven. Her brother, Summer, Hodor… All of them died for Bran. Just as all appeared hopeless, they were fortunate enough to be rescued by a mysterious rider who attacked and eliminated the pursuing wights with a sickle and a flaming flail. The stranger unveiled his hood, revealing to be Bran's paternal uncle Benjen Stark; the First Ranger of the Night's Watch had disappeared during a scouting mission. His skin was grey and had blemishes on his face.
Once Bran had awoken, he slowly begins to recognize him. "Uncle Benjen," he said. "The last letter Jon wrote me said you had been lost beyond the Wall."
Benjen looked nonchalant. "I led a ranging party deep into the North to find White Walkers. They found us," he explained. "A White Walker stabbed me in the gut with a sword of ice. Left me there to die. To turn. The Children of the Forest found me and stopped the Walker's magic from taking hold."
"How?"
"The same way they made the Walkers in the first place. You saw it yourself, nephew."
"Dragonglass. A shard of dragonglass plunged into your heart."
Benjen nodded. "You are the Three-Eyed Raven now."
"I didn't have time to learn," he shook his head. "I can't control anything."
"You must learn to control it before the Night King comes. One way or another, he will find his way to the world of men. When he does, you will be there waiting for him. And you will be ready."
With that, Benjen escorted Meera and Bran further south towards a grove with a weirwood heart tree in sight of the Wall. The former First Ranger looked up and stared at his former base of operations, shaking his head regretfully.
"I'm afraid this is where I must leave you," he said.
Meera looked confused. "Why? You're not coming with us?" she asked.
Benjen turned to her. "The Wall is not just ice and stone," he explained. "Ancient spells were carved into its foundations. Strong magic to protect men from what lies beyond. And while it stands, the dead cannot pass. I cannot pass."
He stood up and approaches his horse, lifting Bran off of it and carries him to the foot of a nearby weirwood tree before walking back to his horse.
"Then… where will you go?"
"The Great War is coming and I still fight for the living. I'll do what I can… for as long as I can."
Remerging from another one of his visions, Bran shared his last moment with his uncle.
"Thank you, uncle Benjen," he said.
"And to you, Bran. I wish you both good fortune."
With that, Benjen rode away into the forest. Bran looks up at the weirwood tree and starts to crawl towards it. Meera helps him reach it and looks at him.
"Are you sure you're ready for this?" she asked doubtfully.
Bran nods. "It is as my uncle said. I'm the Three-Eyed Raven now. I have to be ready for this," he insists.
Touching his hand on the weirwood tree, Bran's eyes go white to finish accelerating the pace of his training—seeing another vision of the past. He had to; for he knew the evil that was coming to Westeros. And he had to be ready. It was his personal task to utilize and perfect his supernatural gifts in the war against the Night King and the White Walkers. It was now or never.
In Meereen…
Jon Connington stood in the Great Pyramid's throne room – with Daenerys sitting on her throne, flanked by Grey Worm and Missandei as their visitors Yara and Euron Greyjoy have been debating and pleading their cases, though one more direct than the other with a few Unsullied keeping them silent company.
"It's not a matter of debate," Yara interjected. "What my father did shouldn't have harmed the rest of us, but the Oathkeeper did it anyway."
"And he paid the price for it when he brought our people's end on himself," Euron countered with glee. "Be thankful that it was the Oathkeeper who did him in first because I would've done the same – just less colorful."
"You'd knowingly murder my father? Your own brother? Are you insane?!"
"He led us into two wars we couldn't win. And while you sailed around the western coasts back in Westeros, I, on the other hand, have been around the world. I've seen more things than any ironborn living."
Connington interrupted. "Get back to the point, Greyjoy. Why did you come here?" he demanded, not positively predisposed towards the elder.
Euron continued arrogantly gloated. "The moment I was chosen by what was left of our people to lead the Iron Islands, I came home to find nothing but a pile of smoke, ash and rubble. No home, no nothing," he postured. "I'm sure you've already heard what Daveth Baratheon is capable of, so I'd imagine word of the Slave Masters being utterly crushed in one swift stroke has already spread back to the capital. No doubt he's mobilizing his armies right now. To attack you," he pointed to Daenerys. "It's nothing compared to the cruel hardship you suffered at the hands of a man whose family sought to destroy, from what I hear. But still. It bothers me. Murdering the Oathkeeper and his lackeys would make me feel a lot better. And since it appears that we share a common enemy, I thought we rightful monarchs could murder them together."
Before Euron could start walking up towards the throne, Grey Worm and the Unsullied take a step towards him; Euron stops walking and looks up at the Unsullied commander.
"That's far enough," Grey Worm warned.
Euron smiles wickedly and backs down off the steps. Daenerys, meanwhile, decides to cut to the chase.
"Your niece has already instructed our forces on how to properly sail my fleet once belonged to the former Slave Masters and supplemented by the Golden Company," she begun. "Yet you came here with what remains of the… Iron Fleet, and men to sail them as well. Both of you made your claims and petitions known. In return, I expect you want me to support your claim to the throne of the Iron Islands? Among other things?"
"My father would've wanted me to rule—" Yara began.
"Ah, but the Kingsmoot chose me instead," Euron interrupted. "Succession of the Iron Islands is decided that way. Thought you would've known that by now, my dear niece. Our law is the law. You weren't on the Iron Islands, and yet I still remain the greatest captain on the 14 seas. The place was getting crowded so we'll need room to expand."
Daenerys spoke up. "And what is wrong with the selection process? Is it not the tradition of the Salt Throne that whoever remains as the eldest surviving child of the King of Salt and Rock be next in the line of succession? Has the Iron Islands ever had a Queen before?"
Yara looks at her uncle before looking back up at the Dragon Queen. "No more than Westeros," she replied. "My uncle only came home after a long absence, took advantage of the chaos so he could seek power for himself. Took whatever few resource my homeland had left to promote his own interests."
"You told me that your father was a terrible King."
"You and I have that in common."
"We do. And both murdered by a usurper as well."
Daenerys continued listening; her advisor, Connington, meanwhile, pressed the matter further.
"Last I heard, the Greyjoys rebelled against the Iron Throne for the right to be monarchs not once but twice – both ending in catastrophic failure," he pointed out before turning to Euron. "You, on the other hand, I've heard much about. One exile to another, though I've been here in Essos longer than you were. You spent your days reaving, pillaging and raping all over the known world from Oldtown to even Asshai by the Shadow Lands."
"He came here to offer you his ships, though it isn't all he said he'll bring. My uncle claims he also wants to give you his 'big cock,' I think he said. Euron's offer is also an offer of marriage, you see – not getting one without the other. Which is why you should not negotiate with him," she pointed to Euron. "He'll murder you as soon as you have what he wants."
"The Seven Kingdoms," Connington deduced. "All of them."
Now the Dragon Queen was suddenly interested in that last remark. "And I assume you don't want the Seven Kingdoms, Yara?"
She shook her head. "Your ancestor Aegon the Conqueror defeated ours, Harren the Black, and took the Iron Islands. I ask you to give them back and help us murder those who don't think a woman's fit to rule."
Connington remained suspicious, finding such demands ludicrously unsettling. "Such a notion would prove to create a disastrous domino effect for the rest of the Seven Kingdoms House Targaryen conquered and united. What if everyone else starts demanding their independence as well? Are we to just give it to them willy nilly?"
"She isn't demanding, Lord Connington. She's asking. The others are free to ask as well," Daenerys reminded him. "Both her father and mine were evil men. They both left the world worse than they found it." She redirected her attention towards Euron. "But we won't. As such I must decline your offer, my lord. We're going to leave the world better than we found it, but we cannot make it so by allowing power-hungry, self-serving evil men into our service."
"You don't care about the Iron Islands. They're nothing but rocks and bird shit and a lot of very unattractive people. Well, they used to be," Euron shot. "The Iron Fleet on the other hand—my fleet, that's something else entirely. Refuse my offer and I'll continue owning the seas."
Despite the confidence in himself and the unrefuseability of his offer, Euron met resistance.
"My fleet will help the Dragon Queen defeat the pretenders in the North, Stormlands, Westerlands, Vale and every other region who ruined us all," Yara shot back.
"On this, Queen Daenerys concurs and has made her decision to decline your proposal of an alliance," Connington agreed. "We will negotiate with Lady Yara, not you."
That last bit was a cheap nut shot; a blow to his pride. Euron was not expecting that.
"Why?" he asked. "You know what? Forget I asked. I don't expect you to trust me outright. In my experience, the surest way to a woman's heart is a gift. But should you require a demonstration of my naval forces' superiority, I suppose we'll find out to see whose fleet is better than the other."
Euron nods to her, turns and strides out of the throne room, all brass balls and swagger. Daenerys rose from her throne and felt her nerves twitch.
"Torgo Nudho. (Grey Worm)," she turned to her Unsullied commander. "Lo ziry māzigon naejot vīlībāzma, lo bona vala jiōragon isse se ñuhoso lēda īlva kȳvana syt iā sȳrkta vys, ossēnagon zirȳla ēlī (If it comes to battle, should that man interfere with our plans for a better world, kill him first.)"
"Krenyikhé, ñuha dāria. (Gladly, my Queen)", he nodded.
With that business over and done with, Daenerys redirected her attention towards her newest chief naval commander. "I will help you get the justice you deserve and rebuild the Iron Islands. In return, you will support my claim as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and respect the integrity of the Seven Kingdoms. That means no more reaving, roving, raiding or raping."
Yara heard this speech before. "That's our way of life," she tried to explain.
The Dragon Queen wasn't buying it. "No more," she said firmly.
Yara and Daenerys look at each other. "Not anymore." Those were the harsh, judgmental words hurled at her when she imprisoned and tried in court after the Second Greyjoy Rebellion after Daveth literally laid waste to the Iron Islands and nearly wiped out every ironborn in his crusade for vengeance. "Well, I am truly sorry to disappoint you, Princess, but the integrity of the Seven Kingdoms will be respected. From now on, there will be no more reaving and raiding. The Old Ways are done." Every night when she was chained up in Deepwood Motte, Yara kept hearing those words in her sleep before breaking out.
Of course the difference was that one was a forceful ultimatum while the other sounded like a firm yet diplomatic request; if not a reasonable one. She soon nods her head and holds out her hand.
"No more," Yara agreed.
Daenerys is not familiar with this gesture, but holds out her hand all the same. Yara clasps the Dragon Queen's forearm with her hand like the tough ironborn she is. Daenerys returns the clasp and tried to maintain her regality in the face of her bemusement.
—Later that day—
Connington stood outside his Queen's chambers with his arms folded; overhearing a conversation from the other side held between Daenerys and her lover Daario. Although the sounds were somewhat muffled by the reinforced doors and walls, he could slightly hear it all playing out.
« Your ships are ready. I saw them painting the sails. I'm curious to see how the Dothraki do on the poison water. » the voice belonged to Daario.
« You're not coming with us. » replied Daenerys.
« New strategy? You want the Second Sons to attack from the west coast? Or the southeast? If we take Casterly Rock and Storm's End, the Baratheons will have nowhere to run when you hit King's Landing. »
« You're not going to Westeros. You're staying here with the Second Sons. There's finally peace in Meereen. You will keep the peace as Regent of the Bay of Dragons while the people choose their own leaders. We can't keep calling it Slaver's Bay anymore. »
The former Lord of Griffin's Roost was intrigued with how the Dragon Queen was attempting to break off her dalliance with her paramour. In his mind, it made sense. In the event should House Targaryen reconquer the Seven Kingdoms like Aegon did 300 years ago, Daenerys will no doubt be required to marry a loyal Westerosi supporter to continue her family's bloodline—the bloodline of Old Valyria. After all, no commoner was a fit consort for a woman of royal birth. No one would accept that.
He could hear Daario getting uptight—apparently not taking the break up well. Although understandable, Connington knew this had to be done; not only to avoid heartache, but also scandal.
« Bay of Dragons? Fuck Meereen. Fuck the people. I'm here for you, not them. »
« You promised me. "My sword is yours. My life is yours." This is what I command. If I'm going to rule in Westeros, I'll need to make alliances. The best way to make alliances is making strategic marriages. »
« Who are you marrying this time? »
« I don't know. Maybe no one. »
« But you need to lure all the noble houses to the table? Are you a Queen or fish bait? »
« I can't bring a lover to Westeros. »
« A King wouldn't think twice about it. »
« So that's what you want? To be my mistress? »
« I'm not proud. I don't care what perfumed aristocrat sits beside you in the throne room. I don't want a crown. I want you. I love you, Daenerys. And I make you happy. You know I do. Bring me with you. Let me fight for you. »
« I can't, Daario. »
« That old Westerosi Connington told you to do this? »
« No one tells me to do anything. The decisions I make are entirely my own. »
« Clever old fossil. Intimidating, strategically ruthless… more dangerous than he was when I first met him. Can't argue with his logic. I'm no use to you over there. »
« Don't get angry. »
« I'm not angry. I'm full of self-pity. Who comes after you? Who can ever follow Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the Mother of Dragons. »
« A great number of women, I imagine. Specific orders will be left for you regarding the welfare of Meereen and the Bay of Dragons. »
« You'll get that throne you want so badly, I'm sure of it. I hope it brings you happiness. I pity the lords of Westeros. They have no idea what's coming for them. »
« Farewell, Daario Naharis. »
Connington leaned off the wall and sat off to the side of the room on a bench, waiting until he sees Daenerys emerging from her bedchambers and walked down the steps. She notices him staring at her.
"How much do you hear?" she asks.
"All of it," he answers.
"It's not polite to eavesdrop on other people's conversations, Lord Connington; especially if they're personal ones. Private."
"Regardless, what's done had to be done. That Daario fellow, how did he take it?"
Daenerys shifted somewhat uncomfortably. "No tears," she replied plainly.
"Good."
"Why is that good?"
"Daario is skilled with a blade, but he is a commoner and you royalty; too low birth to be considered an eligible suitor and not fit for a young woman of your station. He would've been a distraction, a liability should you chose to take him with us to Westeros. What matters most now is that you have your armies, you have your ships, and you have your dragons—just as Aegon the Conqueror had 300 years ago. Everything you've ever wanted since you were old enough to want anything. Our enemies know we're coming and will no doubt seek to exploit any opening they could use against you. If you're going to rule the Seven Kingdoms, a monarch will need to make the hard yet necessary decisions. You will find little joy in it, but it needs to be done. Are you afraid?"
Daenerys nods.
"Good. You should be, child. You've taken a big step in the great game: the game of thrones. The only people who aren't afraid of failure are sycophants and madmen."
"Like my father, I know. But do you know what frightens me more?" she asked. "The first is when I said farewell to a man who loves me. A man I thought I cared for, and yet I felt nothing. Nothing. Just impatience to get it over with."
"And the second?"
"The second is that I do sometimes worry that I might end up like my father. Once you told me that madness and greatness are two sides of the same coin when it comes to my family. 'Every time a new Targaryen is born the gods flip a coin, and the world holds its breath to see how it will land.' Tell me, will I end up like that?"
Connington looked at her somewhat confused, but not surprised nor concerned. "It's difficult to say, child. When your father ascended the throne, for instance, he showed great promise in the first 20 years of his reign before spiraling into insanity and paranoia. But madness and greatness depends on the Targaryen and the choices they make. Your older brother, Prince Rhaegar, was fortunately spared of such a fate and demonstrated such greatness. Had he still lived, Rhaegar would've surpassed even the greatest Targaryen Kings. You still remind me of him sometimes the way you carry yourself. Valiant, honorable and noble."
Daenerys smiled sadly. "I wish I could've known him better. The way you describe him makes me sometimes wonder how Rhaegar would've been like today."
"He would've loved you. Spoil you rotten, perhaps, but still." Connington stood up. "We will avenge Rhaegar, your father, your niece Rhaenys, your nephew Aegon… everyone who wronged you terribly. My sword and counsel are yours should you require it."
"Good," the Dragon Queen nodded. "I, um… I had something made for you. I'm not sure if I got the designs right." She held out a makeshift silver pin that symbolized being Hand; a pin Connington himself once held and recognized it. "Lord Jon Connington of Griffin's Roost, I name you Hand of the Queen." Daenerys said as she pins it to him.
Connington kneels and pledges his services to House Targaryen once more as he resumed his Handship, a position he once held before in his younger days during Robert's Rebellion. When he was younger, he was seen as too young, too bold and too eager for glory; the Battle of the Bells proved that Connington at the time was indeed not ready for such responsibilities. Now that he was a different man having spent years in exile – older, more cautious, experienced and dangerous than ever, Connington was patient and learned from his past mistakes. No more being honorable and seeking glory as he did before; Connington would not repeat his failure at the Battle of the Bells again.
—At the Summer Sea—
Yara, Qhono, and Captain Strickland were moving about on their respective ships with their troops: ironborn, Dothraki, Unsullied and Golden Company sellswords. Each of them looked out at the sea with the sunset reflecting off the surface. A vessel appears with a dragon as its ram. Grey Worm and the Unsullied ride on it. Behind him hundreds of other ships are sailing around with some carrying the Dothraki and their horses.
True to his word, Captain Strickland and the Golden Company were forced to leave their war elephants behind back in Essos. Above the sellsword company's vessels, Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal fly overhead over the larger ship leading the convoy.
Leading the main fleet, Daenerys, Connington and Missandei stand atop the deck and look out at the oceans ahead—the sound of waves crashing against the ship drowned out by the screeching dragons above.
Chapter End
Author's Note: Well guys, in one whole day this officially marks the end of Season 6. The next several chapters will begin the start of Season 7 and the war between Daveth Baratheon and Daenerys Targaryen. As promised, I'll work to include more battle scenes. So until then be sure to get some drinks, popcorn and sit back for more news. It'll be another battle between the stag and the dragon; both offspring of Kings and will fight each other with everything they've got. Thoughts? Let me know.
Tohka123: Looks like things are about to go in full gear the invasion is coming. Can't wait for more keep up the hard work
Guest #2: Who is going to support Daenerys? Correct me if I'm wrong, but Daveth is the most respected king in generations since Jaehaerys the Conciliator.
harisnorw: Doubt she would manage to land with most of her fleet as she would face the royal fleet, an garrisoned dragon stone and a united westeros. So heavy casualties and ultimately an defeat for her
DarkFireCat5241999: Well since this is westros we know the peace won't last I give them a hundred years till the crown tries to take back the north
Bosma19: I really hope Daveth and Daenerys can work out their problems without killing each other
C.E.W: So the war is finally coming to Westeros. Daenerys will still land on Dragonstone, although it won't be as easy to take it as it was in the series, as Stannis may still have a garrison there. Daenerys might not have support of any noble in Westeros but she still has a powerful army at her back with three full grown dragons. Granted, Daveth's new scorpion weapons can kill them, but they didn't stop Daenerys from defeating Cersei and destroying King's Landing in the series. Daenerys might've been born, raised and molded by hardship, and is a force to be reckon with on dragons but against someone like Daveth, she's out of her element. Daveth's spent his entire life in Westeros, learning to rule, studying the peoples of the Seven Kindoms, training to be a warrior, a leader, training to be the best. There is a great battle coming between the two factions, the question is... who will win.
I hope, for both Daveth and Daenerys' sake that Jon finds prove of the White Walkers. It will encourage the whole realm to unite including Daenerys who does not seek to rule over a graveyard.
xx. az. xx: Don'tme Hodors last scene was the saddest in all of GOT
Chosen-One-92: The majority of the Daenerys' forces are light cavalry, those 100,000 dothraki. I'd imagine if not an ambush like the battle of the Gold Road, that'd be easily defeated by a phalanx of spears/pikes. The only real advantage she has are dragons.
I really hope you have her armies smashed since she has no Dornish/Tyrell allies to lose this time.
Chris the Metis: Soon the pieces are in place for the showdown. Dany should have realize that there are chances that she will lose despite dragons and numbers. Even Bran know how real the white walkers threat really is.
RHatch89: Daveth should be king. Daenerys is basing everything she knows on the prettily spun stories of a man still in love with her dead brother. From what you've shown Varys has been focusing on Daveth and not Daenerys. Therefore, her information on Westeros is lacking, and Yara only tells things from her perspective. Daenerys is expecting seven nearly divided kingdoms under a king that Connington believes to be just like his father, but she is in for a surprise.
Bhg: Great chapter on trials and tribulations of the oathkeeper,so can you please put up the next chapter to the story now please
Guest #1: Does the battle against the undead come before or after the stag vs dragon
—After
Bio RL: Dany has to die, and if Jon reveals himself as a targaryen he should be too, Robert got away from Viserys and Dany and looks at the problems Daveth has now, I do not think he's dumb enough to leave the same problem to his children, (nobody knows if the descendants of dany or jon are ambitious enough to launch another campaign of war for the throne in the future, better cut in the bud)
Tertius711: The thing is the realm is at peace
Every one would see Dany aa foreign invader
No one would support her
Oi Teme: You do know that despite the bullshit non canon seasons of GoT shooting and hitting Dragons with ballistas is nearly impossible and what happened in Dorne before is like a miracle shot like 1 in a million.
13thRebels: God I hope they see eye to eye on what kind of person they are and be better than what their parents were I really don't want to Daenerys to be dead or hated I really don't want that to happen to her.
Bad Ass Female Fighter: I am SO happy that Dany didn't accept Euron's help. I hope that Dany and Daveth become good friends when Jon shows them the Wight. They both want what is best for Westeros after all.
Seraph: Daveth should remain king since he has better work than many and Jon should be named stark n b king beyond the wall
UnknownReaderHasJoined: I can see they both see the other as an 'evil'? It makes me hope they'd see reason and realize they were wrong.