Chapter 23 – Daenerys

The previous evening, it had come at a surprise to Dany that Jon had wished to spend some more time with Rhaegal in preparation for the weeks to come.

"If you want to, go for it," she had encouraged him. "You are a dragon yourself, with the blood of Old Valyria. Rhaegal has chosen you as his rider. You don't need me to come with you." She had though, since he had pleaded. In the end, Daenerys had decided it was a good idea; if Jon had fallen again it would probably be the best if someone witnessed it. Instead of just Bran, of course.

They had gone at a much slower pace this time, and flown much lower to the ground, barely above the trees of the Wolfswood. Jon had seemed a lot more confident this time too, and seemed to bond better with the green dragon. He didn't fall off again, and didn't look like he was going to. Dany was pleased. So was Jon, shakily grinning when he reached the ground again.

"Well, I'm not unconscious," he'd said, smiling widely.

"You're not," Dany had replied. "You did well. It's freezing out, shall we go indoors?" And they had both re-entered Winterfell and spent the remainder of the evening with Sansa, Arya and Bran. They had been plotting, too, about killing a man called Littlefinger. Dany presumed he had been the one lurking in the corner when she had been introduced to the northerners. Tyrion had looked irritated to see him, while Varys had been intrigued and quietly watchful. She hadn't fully understood everything she was told – Bran was vague and Arya only told the worst parts – but she knew that this man was a manipulative, sneaky criminal in disguise, as well as the cause of most of the political strife in Westeros over the years. Jon had agreed with their decisions to sentence and kill him, and then left abruptly, looking livid with the newfound information. After a while, Arya had left to find him, and Dany, feeling a little dispirited, retired for the night.

That night, Dany had a strange dream. She was walking through the Red Keep of Kings Landing. To start with she was unstartled: she was now Queen of Westeros and had walked this way many times during her short stay in the capital. But as she continued through the Keep and into the throneroom, she realised it was very different to how it had been before she left for Winterfell. No Unsullied manned the walls, no Dothraki chattered or laughed or fought outside. Only the odd, blank-faced guard stood every few metres along the corridor. They all wore Targaryen livery but none of them acknowledged Daenerys as she passed. She could not see what was going on outside, but heard horses among anguished shrieking. It sounded as though the entire city population was being simultaneously massacred.

As she entered further into the throneroom, now feeling uneasy, she saw that the Iron Throne was occupied. A smallish, roundish man with silver blond shoulder-length hair sat there. Daenerys moved closer, curious, into sight. The man looked right through her as though she wasn't there, and Dany began to wonder if it was really more of a vision than a dream. She moved closer still, taking time to notice the various dragon skulls lining the walls, the smallest of which by the door were probably the size of Dany's hand; the two largest, closer to the Iron Throne, looked big enough to comfortably stand in. Probably the same size as my dragons she realised with a small smile.

She carried on pacing slowly along the room. "Father?" she said, quietly, hesitantly, having ascertained that this was who he must be. He seemed not to notice Daenerys walking towards him, and was unaffected by the screaming outside. Dany sighed. She knew the Mad King had earned his name.

Before she could get any further, someone ran past Dany and skidded to a halt near the steps. The impact of the collision winded her and nearly knocked her to the ground, but she barely noticed as she focused on the scene in front of her. The young man who had rushed in looked no older than twenty: tall, skinny, the white cloak of a Kingsguard draped across his shoulders. His hair was golden blond, his eyes emerald green, and in this moment, slightly widened in apparent fear. Daenerys peered at him, then nodded in recognition. Lannister.

Her father was smiling cruelly, mouth twisted and violet eyes narrowed to slits. "It is done, the order placed. I am the king! Burn them all!" He stood up from the Iron Throne and laughed like a madman.

Lannister's eyes widened even more. "Surely this can be settled peacefully? Please!"

"BURN THEM ALL!" Aerys insisted, ignoring his guard.

Daenerys watched the young Jaime Lannister approach him, looking confused. "What do you mean?"

"Burn them all! Burn them all! Burn them in their house; burn them in their beds! BURN THEM ALL!" Daenerys didn't understand at all what he meant, but she understood the merciless sentiment. She looked back at the Kingsguard and saw realisation and horror dawn on Jaime's face. There was nothing Dany could do then but watch, as Lannister drew his sword, rushed towards Aerys and stabbed him in the back. Without a backwards glance, Jaime ran as hard as he was able back out of the room and Daenerys heard his footsteps echoing down the halls. She looked back in horror at her father as he slumped forward, blood seeping into his clothing.

"Burn them all," he said softly as he died. "Burn them all!"

Daenerys shook her head. "Why?" she asked.

Her father looked up. "Burn them all…" His eyes met hers, the pupils dilated, the whites visible from the wideness, the pitiless and delirium unconcealed.

And with that, Dany woke in a cold sweat.

Seconds later, her chamber door opened and a figure came in. For a second Dany was scared that it was her father, or even Jaime, until she heard the voice.

"Your Grace! Are you alright? I heard you cry out!" It was Missandei.

Dany sat up. "Missandei! Yes, I'm fine, thank you. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"I was already awake," the translator replied. "It's not long until morning. I just wanted to make sure that you were alright."

"I am alright, thank you, my friend," Daenerys said, shifting a little. "It was just a bad dream."

Missandei looked concerned. "It must have been."

Dany decided to be honest. "I saw my father die. I saw Jaime Lannister kill him and run."

Her friend tentatively moved closer. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine," she said, waving her hand. In truth, she didn't want to seem so affected as she was, being that it was only a dream.

"Perhaps talking to Jaime Lannister would prove helpful to you?" Missandei suggested. "Was there anything in your dream that you didn't understand.

The screaming. Jaime's fear. Aerys' words. "Plenty," Dany replied.

"I'll come with you if you want, and if you think it's a good idea."

"Maybe I will," Daenerys said thoughtfully. "But I'd rather go alone. I should imagine you've got your work cut out at the moment, translating all the time."

Missandei grinned. "It's good fun," she said. Her smile then wavered. "Are you sure you're alright, Your Grace?"

"Positive," Dany said with a smile, appreciative of her concern. Missandei then nodded and left. Dany rolled over and bed and thought about it. Not only would she find out the real reason why the Kingslayer earned his name, but it would probably make him uncomfortable, making him pay ever so slightly for it, and it would give her something to do before Littlefinger's farce of a trial.

She was quiet as she broke fast that morning. She noticed that Jon kept trying to make eye contact, looking increasingly concerned, but she didn't want to tell him her plans. Dany figured he would probably try to talk her out of going to talk to Jaime, to save getting herself wound up. Luckily for her, Arya and Sansa kept up a steady stream of chatter so that nobody else noticed anything amiss. Both Stark girls were calm in demeanour, but Dany could scarcely miss the excitement that shone in their eyes, in anticipation of the justice that was going to be served. Bran wasn't with them. Apparently he was in the library with Sam, trying to find the ultimate solution to defeating the Night King, and no one was keen to interrupt them.

Arya joined her after the meal. "Are you alright? You were so quiet this morning."

"I'm fine," Dany said.

The young Stark rolled her eyes. "If you say so."

"Arya," she said. "Whereabouts are the guest rooms?"

Arya looked at her closely, as though reading her mind. "You want to talk to Jaime and Bronn, don't you?"

Daenerys nodded. "Just Lannister."

"Sure?" Arya said. "Alright. Just try not to kill him, no matter how much he provokes you. We'll already have our work cut out later on."

Dany smiled, and Arya pointed her in the right direction.

Jaime Lannister probably had the smallest guest room in Winterfell, just big enough for a small bed, a chair and a rickety desk and only a tiny crack of a window to let sunlight in. He had lit a couple of candles to improve the ambience but the lighting was still poor. He was sat on the chair, twiddling his thumbs and his face was as impassive as Bran's with boredom.

"Daenerys Targaryen…" he said slowly as she entered. "Did they decide that you were going to be the one to kill me."

"I haven't come to kill you." She realised she still had Dark Sister clipped to her hip, so she removed the blade and gently placed it on the floor. "I've come to talk to you."

Jaime awkwardly manoeuvred the chair so that he could face her properly. "Alright."

"I wanted to ask you why you killed my father," she said softly. Now that the words were out of her mouth, Dany felt strangely nervous.

"I'll tell you, if you tell me why you killed my sister."

"I didn't kill your sister," Dany told him. She thought for a moment, not wanting to tell him about Arya straight away. "It was a Stark loyalist, presumably the same one that caused the trouble at the Twins. They heard I was close by and got word to me."

Jaime nodded, but didn't look convinced. "Alright. Tell me what you know about your father."

The question threw her a little. "He was… mad and cruel. Like Viserys, but worse. He liked burning people. He killed Rickard and Brandon Stark…" she trailed off. "Insane, paranoid, but still my father. And a King. I wish I could have known him."

The last part made him chuckle. "I'm sorry. But I don't think you would've, somehow. If what you say is true, and your brother took after him, then there is no way you would have liked what you saw while your father ruled Westeros. Even Rhaegar was in inner turmoil as to whether to overthrow him. Had he been able to defeat Robert Baratheon, I believe he would have."

Dany was quietly stunned for a second. "You knew Rhaegar?"

Jaime smiled again. "I was Kingsguard. How could I have not known Rhaegar?" He looked reflective for a moment. "Your older brother was a good man. He, like the rest of us, was calmly waiting out the rest of your father's reign. He would have made a great king."

"Yet you were sworn to protect my father, not my brother. And you killed him."

"Yes, I did," Lannister said frankly. "And, meaning no offence to you, I would again. During Roberts Rebellion, I was the only Kingsguard left guarding the King. Ser Jonathor Darry, Ser Barristan Selmy and Prince Lewyn Martell were with Rhaegar. The other three – Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Oswell Whent and Ser Arthur Dayne were on some mission in Dorne that Rhaegar had set them. All I know is that I was the only one actually in Kings Landing. When your father heard that Rhaegar was dead, and the rebel army were approaching the Crownlands, he sent your mother and Viserys to Dragonstone for safety, away from King's Landing but not too far away, but he employed a pyromancer to place large caches of wildfire all over the city. Everywhere: all the entrances and exits, the harbours, taverns, brothels, the hills, the Red Keep, all of it. When my father's army arrived, newly a bunch of turncloaks when they knew of the victory at the Trident, Aerys planned to set off all the wildfire, knowing full well that every single person in the city, the Red Keep, the Dragonpit, everything – even him – would be blown to bits. He then summoned me and asked me to bring him my own father's head, lest I be burnt with all of them." His mouth twisted. "If someone asked you to do that, whoever it was, would you have done it?"

"No," Daenerys said very quietly.

"Your father followed the advice of the wrong advisor. Lord Varys told him not to let my father and the Lannister army through the gates, probably knowing of their true intentions from all of his spies, while Pycelle insisted that they could be trusted, since my father was Hand of the King for a time. Aerys trusted Pycelle and the gates were opened, and my father's army sacked the city in Robert's name."

"And killed my sister-in-law, my niece and nephew, I know," Dany said thinly, the last words making her think of Jon for a fleeting moment. "Then what?"

"I chased down the pyromancer and killed him, to stop him setting it off. Then I went back to the Red Keep, to find Aerys yelling 'Burn them all!' over and over again. I killed him to stop him from giving the order to anyone else, or indeed doing it himself."

"And then you ran away," Daenerys said, remembering her dream.

Lannister's eyebrows furrowed. "No. Who told you that?"

Not wanting to reference a mere vision, Dany said, "I just assumed."

"I didn't run away from what I had done," Jaime said. "Believe what you will about me, judge me like every other person on this continent, but killing your father was not a decision I made lightly, but instinct told me it was the right thing to do, I will stick to that." He swallowed. "As for what happened next, almost on cue of Aerys' death, Eddard Stark walked in."

"Did you tell him?" Dany asked. "About the wildfire?"

To her surprise, he shook his head. "Ned would've seen what the Lannister army was doing. He had probably heard about what happened to Princess Elia, Princess Rhaenys and Prince Aegon by then… He walked right in, looked first at your father, and then at me… I couldn't have said anything. He had built his own judgement right there and then. Do you think that Lord Stark, honourable to a fault, would've cared to hear my side of the story?"

"So you never told anyone?"

"Not many," Lannister replied. "My father, Cersei, Tyrion, obviously. Other than that… Robert knew some things about it, but not what Aerys had been planning to do. As for that, only Brienne knows the truth. And now you."

"Brienne seemed very intent on you staying alive," Dany mused. "And Bran Stark probably knows too."

"Brandon Stark? How would he know?"

"He knows everything about everyone. He probably knows that we're speaking right now." Dany was intrigued to see faint surprise, then horror, dawn on Jaime's face, and wondered what other secrets this strange man had. But she knew she had to get to the Great Hall for the trial.

The Hall was filling up as Daenerys got there, but it was mostly guards, including Yohn Royce – none of the northern lords and ladies were present. Then again, Dany reflected, they probably had little to do with Littlefinger before he came back to Winterfell after Jon's victory over the Boltons. The tables in the hall had been pushed back to leave a few spaces to sit, but cleared the room. To her surprise, Jon was sat at a table near the back of the hall, while only Sansa and Bran sat together at the high table, with Maester Wolkan standing to Bran's left. Jon was sat with Davos and Tyrion and was whispering to both of them intently. She moved to sit with them.

"Everything alright?" as she sat down, and ignored the hushed whispers of "Your Grace".

"Sansa and Bran have planned out everything," Jon told her. "I'm not exactly sure how they're playing it, but Sansa's asking all of us to just go along with it, and that it'll work."

"Alright," she replied, although she noticed Davos looked sceptical, and Tyrion kept looking curiously between Sansa and Jon and back again.

Daenerys had every intention of conforming with the others, but when Littlefinger entered and stood at the front to one side, she almost spoke up, especially since Arya was not yet present. When Arya did arrive, escorted by two guards and standing in the middle, Dany wanted to shout out. Why was she standing there like she was the wrongdoer? Even Jon looked a little worried. Littlefinger was smirking. Only Sansa and Bran were impassive.

"I don't understand," she whispered to Tyrion. But her Hand had a gleam of understanding in his eye.

"I do," he replied softly, faint pride gracing his face. "The player is about to be outplayed."

Daenerys turned her gaze back to the scene, now even more confused and slightly nervous for Arya's safety. The two guards that escorted Arya now moved back to the sides, leaving Arya standing all by herself in the centre of the hall. The door was closed, leaving the only light being the dwindling candles and the sole window.

After a few more seconds, during which Littlefinger smirked some more, Arya looked to Sansa.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked, voice devoid of any emotion.

"It's not what I want, it's what honour demands." Sansa, on the other hand, just sounded bored and unaffected, as though her sister was a burden.

Without missing a beat, Arya shot back, "And what does honour demand?"

"That I defend my family from those who would harm us. That I defend the North from those who would betray us." Daenerys looked to Tyrion again, but his gaze was transfixed on the two Stark sisters.

"Alright then," Arya replied, with the slightest edge to her voice. "Get on with it."

After a short pause, Sansa did so.

"You stand accused of murder. You stand accused of treason." Daenerys heart dropped. Technically both were true of Arya. She did kill a queen, even if said queen wasn't the rightful one. And who knew how many, exactly, that Arya had killed over time? Dany didn't really want to think about it, but her anxiety was now growing.

But it quickly abated with Sansa's next sentence. "How do you answer these charges… Lord Baelish?"

A/N: You must've known I would leave this on a cliff-hanger… (although you all do know what's going to happen next, with only a slight change from canon to reflect the different characters in the room who were not there.) Leave a review and give me some pointers of points to include. What didn't you guys like about Littlefinger's death on the show? How can I make it better? Let me know :)

This chapter is going to be the first of two parts again, similar to Arya's previous two. I might do the same with the last two chapters as well, meaning this fic will be 26 chapters in total as opposed to the previous 23. Needless to say, the next part will be in Dany's POV too.

I will try to update soon, but I do have exams coming up which hinder productivity quite considerably, I've found!

Please review and tell me what you think, a big thanks for reading and I'll see you all next time.