Chapter VIII: The Taints Of The Past
Tyrion gulped the third glass of wine down, as Dany looked on in amusement. His hand reached for the jug again when she snatched it out of his reach.
"That's enough, Lord Hand," she said. "I want Tyrion Lannister to advise me, not Dornish wine."
Tyrion blinked at her, then raised the glass to her, taking the last sip and dropping it on the table. After straightening himself, Tyrion sat on his designated seat, completely focused on her. He looked far from being drunk. Perhaps even half a dozen glasses would fail to make him dizzy.
"And pray, what advice would you like to hear, My Queen?"
Dany stood up from her seat, and looked out into the sea, the water glistening in white, yellow hues. The sun would be setting soon, and they would be consumed by darkness again, albeit there were enough torches to put an entire city to fire on the ships. She was so close to her destination, and she could feel it inside her veins, running through her blood as hot as wildfire. The place her brother had wanted to rule would now be hers, the place where her Father was King once.
I will be better, she decided. Much better, and saner.
"Have you received a reply from Jon Stark yet?" She asked, cocking her brow. A Stark had been the sole reason for the disappearance of her House. She would always detest how Lyanna Stark had trapped Rhaegar by her charms, and put Westeros into chaos.
But if she hadn't, I would have been but a princess, married to someone worse than my Drogo.
She flushed, guilty that she was not wishing the past was different. The past when every seed of her tragedy was sown.
"Snow, and not yet, Your Grace," he replied solemnly. "But I assure you, it will be much advantageous for us if we were to join hands with the Starks. The Starks are connected to the North, the Riverlands as well as the Vale. Jon Snow is wise. Let him take time."
"The same Starks who were once the friends of the Usurper/who took our rightful Throne for himself."
Tyrion looked grave.
"Half of their house is gone. The only ones left are King Jon and Lady Sansa. But while it may be so, the Northerners are fiercely loyal to their leader. A violent means will bring no calm to anyone. It will be better if Your Grace negotiates."
"And what shall I negotiate?" She asked, hearing the men shout on the deck above. "With House Tyrell and House Martell behind me, we have enough power to defeat the whole North and take it from the Starks."
"If you trust my judgement, Your Grace," Tyrion replied with a grim voice. "Know that Winterfell can never be anyone else's but the Starks'. Winter's blood flows through their veins, and only they are the true leaders of the North. Every one of your ancestors knew that, even your Father. Some things are meant to stay the same, or there arise grave consequences."
Daenerys threw him a sharp look, wanting to ask him on whose side he was, but she could feel the truth in his words herself. Torrhen Stark had bent his knee before Aegon the Conqueror, and while the Targaryens had been the monarchs of Westeros for hundreds of years, the North had always belonged to the Starks.
Dany was convinced she could overlook her enmity toward the Starks if need be, if it meant having peace in her kingdom. She would be a better Queen, a better person. Better than her grudges and her pride.
She turned to the Hand of the Queen, who sat with his fingers clasped together. He was nervously waiting for her opinion, and when Dany put on a smile, Tyrion looked conflicted.
"Then we shall go the North first," she declared. "Tell everyone. I will speak to King Jon myself, and I will hear his pleas. I have to let go of the past to build a better future."
Tyrion smiled, and Dany noticed it reached his eyes.
"To Winterfell then, Your Grace." He offered a small curtsey.
"To Winterfell," she whispered. Outside, the sun had dipped downwards on the horizon, and everything around her looked red and vermilion, like the fire her dragons breathed out.
I am the Queen, she thought.
Jon Snow rules the North, but he doesn't know who I am.
Any sane man would bend the knee and swear fealty to her, and Tyrion argued that Jon would do the same. She hoped it was true. North was a part of Westeros, and she didn't want to take it forcefully and be called no better than Robert Baratheon. If she has to wait till she reached Winterfell then so be it.
A/N: To be brutally honest, I am much more excited to write about the North and the Starks, but Dany had to be given some attention.
Also, I am finding it hard to concentrate on two stories at the same time, so I think I'm going to finish this one before updating Yours and Mine. This story is based on the show so I want to complete it by the time the next season airs. Don't worry, I have everything planned for Yours and Mine's next chapter, but I am having a hard time actually putting those ideas into work. I regret it, but I have no choice. Between school and studying, there is only so much I can manage to write. :')
Thank you for every favourite, follow and review. They mean a lot. xx