Gladium/osterreicher: Winter sensed Euron's magical shenanigans and Jon 'listened'. Good on him.

ol-11: Three reasons. First, it plays into the 'they see you for what you are not what you claim to be', as in exterior people would likely see Jon as Daeron, a Targaryen with a dragon, rather than a Stark. Second, it is a useful way to remind oneself of Jon's parentage. Lastly, I find it cooler.

chris: Sansa is in Sunspear and Arya is in Winterfell with Rickon and Catelyn.

Needing: The dragonbinder horn is too weird. Why would Euron give it to Victarion when Euron knows Vic would try to tame a dragon himself with it? Not really making sense, I think dragonbinder is a dud.

Goxo: Yeah, Euron, after all, was just a human with a god complex. Sure, he could muster up a lot of shenanigans with magic, but when that's gone, he's just a regular dude in armor, who has a god complex and thinks he's invincible.

Duesal: Feeding into the above comment, Euron was never meant to be the villain because it didn't tie into the story. Euron is too cartoonish. The 'bad guys' of this fic aren't villains per say, they're people trying to defend their family/interests (the trio Tyrells v Targaryen-Martells v Starks-Tullys). I didn't want Euron to come in and be an annoyance in the middle, so sending him off in a humiliating and unexpected way is always nice.

Sage: Pretty much. Euron wanted to be a god, he ended up being brought back to reality with a blade to the neck.

Reader: Jon has had things going for himself but he also wants to head back North as soon as possible, and Willas hasn't said his last word just yet.

Nura: Responding to this comment to set the record straight, Quentyn is bi-curious. As in he does not feel attracted to men as much as he is to women (I mean, it's pretty obvious Quentyn likes women more, this story has him be, either explicitly or not, with Myria & Samira Jordayne, Nymeria & Tyene Sand, Valena Toland and Jeyne & Delilah Fowler, that's a lot even for a sexually active person), but likes experimenting.


Daenerys

Daenerys tapped lightly on her knee as Missandei stood there, in front of her, motionless. Was she judging her? Did Missandei think she was a monster too?

It all had started so well, and yet, everything had tumbled down so fast. Volantis, once the Queen of Cities, was now a ruin. A heap of twisted stone and burnt homes. The first daughter of Valyria, gone, killed by the wrath of one of its descendants.

Only a few buildings stood. The Temple of R'hllor, guarded fiercely by the Fiery Hand during the sack, which protected many inhabitants. What people now call the 'Dornish Quarter', a few estates and buildings preserved by the Dornish contingent. And, of course, the Black Walls, with their massive shadows now overlooking a dead city.

Daenerys sought to bring peace, freedom and prosperity. She had brought carnage, sadness and destruction.

She had thought that, as Khalessi of the Great Grass Sea, having proved herself above these vain horse lords, she could have been able to control them and lead them to a new path. She thought that, as the Breaker of Chains, she could have inspired these pesky sellswords to put aside their desire for gold into something more.

She was wrong.

In the end, people's desires stayed the same. The Dothraki were a bunch of looters, killers and rapists, just like she saw at Lhazar, with her Sun and Stars. And she was not Drogo. She could not control her horse lords like he could.

The Sellswords were unreliable as ever. All they wanted was gold, riches and women. The rest was nothing to them. Windblown, Second Sons, Golden Company…all the same.

She wanted Volantis to be the crowning achievement of her coming to Essos: the liberation of the slaves of the first daughter of Valyria, before setting sail on a new conquest: her birthright, the Iron Throne, in Westeros.

It was not to be.

Instead, between the ashes and the sorrows, she would have to fight to ensure that people forget the Volantene disaster.

First of all, by dealing with the Dothraki. They had betrayed her, like so many before.

The leaders were put to the sword, and the others returned to their lands. Only a handful remained. A few dozen faithful, whom she could perhaps find a place on one of the ships leading across the Narrow Sea. A few men, but mostly women and children, too scared to go back to a life of servitude.

Then, the sellswords. Nothing much that she could do to them, either. Some of them fell in battle, others just scattered after taking their loot. However, her resolve against the Golden Company remained strong. She had thought that perhaps she could trust them, but there too, she was wrong. They had betrayed her, just like so many before them. And like so many before, they would fall in turn.

Viserys betrayed her for a crown, he had gotten a crown of molten gold.

Mirri had betrayed her for revenge, she had contributed to the birth of dragons.

Hizdahr had betrayed her for blood, he had died last.

Daario had betrayed her for gold, he ended up with it shoved down his throat.

Jorah had betrayed her for love, he did not make it three steps into the camp before a horse kicked him between the legs, causing him to die before he had even taken a step towards her, writhing in agony.

Those who betrayed her always ended up dead. And she, Mother of Dragons, Breaker of Chains, continued to live.

But who was left, of the faithful?

Ser Barristan? He never cared until the Usurper discharged him of his white cloak.

Aegon? She never knew him, while it seemed he knew of her. Where was he all these years? Where was he when the Golden Company massacred the inhabitants of Volantis?

There remained…the Dornish. Prince Quentyn, whose loyalty never wavered, who helped her people when they needed it most, even if it was not their fight. Who gave her the means to get a crown in a golden seat. A fleet, an army, a family…

And Ned? Sweet, caring Ned, who reassured her between hugs and kisses after that fateful day when Volantis burned. Why couldn't she trade him for Aegon? Where was Aegon to reassure her after she had almost collapsed while looking at the bodies piled up in the Volantene streets? Why would she have to discard a man who had never treated her with anything but love and respect for someone who had barely spoken to her?

Truly, the gods must play a sick joke on her. When she had happiness and greatness within her reach, it was to take it from her.

A small noise made her jolt from her dreams.

The door of the small mansion of the Dornish Quarter she had taken her rooms in opened, revealing Ser Barristan, in pristine white armor.

"They're waiting for you, Your Grace."

Daenerys nodded.

It will soon be time to leave Essos behind for good. To sail to Westeros and reclaim her birthright. To finally rule on the Iron Throne as she should have.

But before, the final settlements would be made here, in Essos, to decide the future of the continent. Or part of it.

Daenerys straightened up, and, accompanied by Missandei in her wake, left the manse under guard.

It was not a long march, under mostly intact roofs, to the great market, where a table had been put up.

The dozen or so participants stood up as she arrived, curtsying slightly.

There were the Dornish, of course: Prince Quentyn, his paramour, Ned, and a few other lords. But also, the Stormlanders: Monford Velaryon, Davos Seaworth and Shireen Baratheon. Finally, Aegon and a few captains of the Golden Company, accompanied by the ever-so dull Jon Connington.

"Shall we begin?" she asked as she sat down, urging everyone to do the same.

"Your Grace, I am pleased to announce that the entire fleet is ready to set sail." Lucian Toland rose up, his red hair flying in the soft breeze. "But we will have to be quick. The Winter storms are upon us and we must take advantage of the good weather."

"The Golden Company will voyage directly to Yronwood, except for the captains wishing to attend the wedding between the new King and Queen," another Dornish lord with the sigil of a panther said.

"When is the wedding due?" Aegon asked.

"The preparations are already underway" Prince Quentyn nodded. "It shall be three days after your arrival in Sunspear, if it suits you?"

Three days? Daenerys had hoped for longer.

"It suits us," she instead replied with a twinge of regret.

"Then we will move onto the more delicate subjects…" Jon Connington frowned with the air of someone who had eaten something rotten. "Namely the preposterous Dornish territorial claims!"

"Our claims are reasonable," Prince Quentyn said with a sly smile. "Nothing more than the annexation of traitorous houses into Dornish territory."

"I'll be damned if I ever cede a piece of my Stormlands to your kind, Dornish!" Jon Connington stood up, furious.

Prince Quentyn frowned but remained calm.

Besides him, his paramour laughed.

"Your Stormlands, Ser Connington? Forgive me, I did not think the Baratheons were so quick to be ousted of their position."

This caused an uproar close to Shireen Baratheon. Even Monford Velaryon, usually quiet, voiced his disapproval.

"You cannot give the Stormlands to this…this disgrace of a man!" the Lord of Driftmark fumed, "he was exiled for having failed his King!"

"I have never failed King Aegon, the sixth of his name!" Jon Connington shot back.

"Peace, Lord Velaryon," Aegon cut in, "my grandfather was…a monster. Order or not, his word should have been moot since we all knew his madness. Lord Connington's loyalty is not in question."

Daenerys twitched. Aegon had been careful to mention her father's word being null due to his madness, or supposed as such. But she also knew that one of her father's orders was to have Rhaegar disinherited, which would make Viserys heir…and mean she was Queen, therefore before Aegon in the succession!

She had to make it clear who was in charge before she let them rip their throats out over it.

"No one will have the Stormlands."

A sudden silence passed over the room, as every head turned to her.

"What?" Jon Connington angrily asked.

"You heard what I said, Lord Connington. No one will have the Stormlands. I have decided to incorporate the Stormlands into the Crownlands. The Paramountship is abolished. All Dornish claims will be agreed upon, except for Harvest Hall of which I keep the decision to see if Lord Selmy will bend the knee to me," Daenerys exclaimed for all to hear. "Jon Connington, for your services, you shall be rewarded with Griffin's Roost. Shireen Baratheon, for your services, you shall be rewarded with Storm's End. That is my word on the matter."

"Your Grace, I must protest!" the young Baratheon girl stood up.

"Protest all you like, but your family was confirmed in its position by the grace of my ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror. It has only repaid itself in treachery. By putting you into the chair your ancestors have occupied, I am only rewarding the fact that you did not personally raise your banners against me. However, your house has abused of mine's friendship. Let that be a reminder of who the dragons are."

Ser Davos Seaworth then shook his head.

"The Marchers will not stand for this."

"That is not your problem to resolve." Daenerys looked him down with a determined eye. "Now, Dorne will also be granted the Stepstones…"

Suddenly, Aegon stood up.

"Aunt, I think we need a break. My men are famished, and we have yet to eat or drink on this day."

Daenerys was surprised, but a few nods came around the table. With a heavy heart, she relented.

As men and women left the table, Aegon stayed, instead moving towards her.

"May I speak with you?"

Daenerys looked him up and down, and nodded. "Come."

The two of them made their way to a small room in a house along the market which could accommodate the both of them comfortably.

"What are you doing?" Aegon asked her.

"Rewarding our allies and consolidating our power." Daenerys frowned.

"Without consulting me!" her nephew angrily replied. "We are to be wed, to be King and Queen, to rule together, and yet you take such a decision without even consulting me?"

"I did not find it fit to inform you." Daenerys shrugged.

"Daenerys, we are to rule as equals." Aegon sat on a chair, looking at her in the eye, "you cannot make decisions as if I was a mere consort. I will not be treated as such."

"And you will not, you have my word."

"Then start by not treating me as a stranger!" Aegon stood back up, approaching her.

Slowly, he moved his body towards her, looking into her eyes, taking her hands with his.

"We are the last Targaryens, Aunt. We have to be united, in blood and in spirit. We cannot let ourselves be distracted by others. Nothing matters but us."

Daenerys looked into his eyes. They were glimmering. What with? Hope, sadness, regret? All three?

Nothing matters but us.

It's Viserys who had the same words, when they were on the run.

We are the last Targaryens.

The words resonated within her. How long did she feel alone? How long has she been wanting a family? Had Aegon not done enough by proving himself worthy of bonding with Rhaegal?

"You're right." Daenerys nodded. "Forgive me, Aegon. The past moons have been trying for me, and you are absolutely right. We are the last Targaryens. We are the blood of the dragon and we need to be closer than ever if we ever want to stand a chance of reclaiming our birthright. However, you speak of being close. Where were you, Aegon? Where were you when I needed you?"

"You have no idea how much I wished to be with you. I did not learn of your existence until recently and when I met you…" Aegon stopped for a moment, "I struggled to even get close to you. And then, Rhaegal…it all happened so fast, Daenerys, I did not have a moment to breathe or even get to know you. And when I did, you escaped me every time."

Aegon drew closer to her, his body was almost touching hers entirely.

"We will rule together, we will thrive together and we will make our family and ancestors proud, I swear to you, Daenerys."

Daenerys looked up at him, with a frown.

"Volantis must not happen again, Aegon."

"I swear it won't. I'll give the order to cut down Strickland for you if you wish."

"No need for that…yet."

Aegon stayed silent, as if something weighed heavily upon him. Finally, his cheeks turned slightly red, and he barely managed to blurt out a couple of words.

"May…may I kiss you?" Aegon wondered, awkwardly chuckling. "It's just, we are to be married…"

Daenerys curved a slight smile. Poor boy was greener than grass.

She leaned in and placed a small kiss on his lips, enough to make him blush.

"Will you leave the Dayne boy?" Aegon asked when their lips parted.

Daenerys made a face, but nodded. She knew that she would have to abandon Ned, as hard as it would be on her. Ser Barristan and Prince Quentyn had already made that point clear: if she wanted a paramour, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms was not the position she had to aim for.

"Yes. When we are married, I shall take no one else to bed but you."

"That's…reassuring." Aegon let out, quickly realizing his foolishness. "I am sorry…"

"I am not a whore, Aegon. I know where my duty lies."

"I did not say such."

"But you thought it."

Aegon bit his lip. "I didn't. I swear I did not have such vile thoughts of you, Daenerys."

Daenerys waved him off.

"Nevertheless, Aunt, may I offer you advice?"

"Of course."

"I think you are making a huge mistake."

"With whom?"

"Dorne."

"How so?"

"You are giving them too much."

"You would go against your kin?" Daenerys asked, surprised.

"They are my kin, but I also am a Targaryen. If we allow Dorne to get too much, then we might well be jeopardizing our position."

"Prince Quentyn has been nothing but loyal to me and House Targaryen. It is only logical that I reward him and consolidate our power."

Aegon took a deep breath.

"Strangely enough, I do not care much for the Marches. Prince Quentyn can have all the fun pacifying the area if he wishes to, and a few islands are not the main concern, however…" Aegon raised a finger in the air. "Prince Quentyn is smart. He knows what you want. What we want. And he knows that our window is closing if we are to reach Westeros. He is pushing his advantage by taking meaningless things for himself while distracting us with the Stormlands or the Reach."

"Then what are you concerned about?" Daenerys asked.

"The Stepstones, Aunt. I am worried about the Stepstones." Aegon sighed. "Prince Quentyn would have us conquer them for him."

"As he helped conquer our throne for us." Daenerys shrugged.

"Yes, Aunt, but the Stepstones command the access to the Narrow Sea. With them in his possession, Dorne would control all the trade coming from Lys, the Summer Isles, even as far as Yi-Ti, with places such as Braavos, Gulltown or…King's Landing," Aegon pointed out. "Giving the Stepstones may not sound like much, but it is massive. And Prince Quentyn knows it. This is why he distracted us with the possibility of annexing the Stormlands. Why would we care about a few rocks when we have Storm's End and Ashford?"

"Yes, why would we care so much? We will have the wealth of the Stormlands and even pieces of the Westerlands. Enough to consolidate our power for generations."

"But the trade routes are even more important. Especially after a pacification of the Stepstones, the area will be covered in trading ships!" Aegon pointed out, "We cannot let Dorne have a monopoly on that trade."

"I gave Prince Quentyn my word, Aegon. Breaking it will anger our only ally."

"Perhaps, but he also knows that he cannot afford to be too greedy, either. Dorne has only so much manpower it can put in to pacify the Stepstones."

"What do you propose?"

"Give him a few islands, but not all. He can hardly afford much more."

Daenerys nodded, Aegon's reasoning made sense.

"Very well then, let us do as you said. Together."

She flung her arm forward. Aegon was not long in taking it.

"Together."

Both of them reappeared at the table, but this time, Aegon sat next to Daenerys, instead of next to Jon Connington.

"Let us get rid of the last pesky obstacles before finally setting sail." Daenerys smiled slightly. "Aegon?"

"The Crown will confirm the Dornish claims over Nightsong, Starpike, Blackhaven and Fawnton. Harvest Hall will be granted depending on the attitude of Lord Selmy. Greenstone is likewise to be determined on the attitude of Lord Estermont," Aegon's voice rose. "As for the Stepstones, House Targaryen will give all of the islands west of the Grey Gallows to Dorne. All other islands will fall under the rule of the Crown."

Prince Quentyn's gaze darkened slightly, as his smile fell.

"Furthermore," Daenerys cleared her throat, "the islands shall only be granted to Dorne should they exempt Royal ships from any tariffs the prince would like to put on a right of passage or protection through the passes they now control."

The Prince's face fell almost completely, but he still tried to regain the advantage.

"That's…generous, but if we are to admonish tariffs on Royal Ships, we should get a larger piece of the islands."

"You get all the islands west of the Grey Gallows, and we shall confirm your claim on Greenstone, how does that sound?" Aegon cut in.

"That sounds…amenable, Your Grace." Prince Quentyn nodded.

"Good. Now I trust our fleet will sail on the morrow to Sunspear?" Daenerys asked with enthusiasm.

"By your command, Your Grace."

"Then we can close this meeting. Our current disputes are over, there is only the fate of our enemies to discuss, and it can wait till they have been destroyed or have bent the knee." Daenerys rose up, holding hands with Aegon.

"House Targaryen will reward its friends, and prove merciful to its enemies. But do not wake the dragons."

While leaving, Daenerys could not repress a smile. Aegon was right. The last Targaryens would have to stand together to face the obstacles ahead. And with her children, who could stand in their way?

However, before she left, she could not help but lock eyes with Ned, who looked at her with a twinge of sadness and…betrayal?