A/N: Longclaw: Things are starting to really heat up. Just a little more setup and then buckle up for the ride of your lives!

Good news! My Rhaegar/Lyanna story has finally been published! It's called My Father's Son! Everyone be sure to check it out! :D

BRuh4: We're getting close people, it's all about to kick off. There's so much stuff we've been waiting forever to show y'all and it's finally getting close. Hold on to your hats.

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Chapter 16: Fire and Blood

Fire crackling in the hearth, Sansa was going over grain reports with Rickon when there was a knock on the door to her solar. "Come in," she called, slightly apprehensive despite not needing to. Nevertheless, she relaxed when Osha entered. "What is it?"

"Old man Wolken said to give ya' these," she drawled, tossing two folded dispatches. "Came in today by raven. One's from the White Wolf… other's some kind of bird."

Sansa grabbed Jon's first. As she read it, a smile spread across her face. "The Twins are officially part of the North now, and he's sending Arya back home."

"Arya's coming home?!" Rickon's eyes widened with happiness. Both had been ecstatic at the news that their long-lost sister was alive after all, and further reuniting House Stark where they deserved to be filled them with glee. "And the other one?"

Picking it up, she noticed the Mockingbird atop it. "Littlefinger," Sansa breathed. "This won't be good. Probably wants to discuss an alliance."

"Wait, Sansa. Wouldn't someone who was married to our aunt be perfect for Jon and the King?" Even with him growing into a tall, burly northern warrior, his grey eyes still shone with an innocence that was lacking in Jon's or Sansa's. "I mean, the pack sticks together, right? Mother was always saying that about us, and her family was always close as well."

What can I say to that? Honestly, she envied Rickon for his boyish naivete - such as she was before heading south to King's Landing. Sharing a look with Osha, Sansa's eyes flickered to the door. Silently communicating to the wildling woman.

"Alright, little Lord. Time for your swordsplay lessons."

Rickon groaned. "That's supposed to be two hours after lunch."

"It has been two hours after lunch." She pointed to the hourglass resting on Sansa's desk. "You know that Ser Willem is waiting in the courtyard, and ya' need to be able to defend yerself. Now go. Shoo." Rolling his eyes, Rickon nevertheless complied. Standing, giving Sansa a hug that was promptly and lovingly returned, and stomped out the door.

Sansa sighed. "Thank you for that."

The wildling woman snorted, plopping down in the seat that Rickon left and crossing her arms. "Now what was that all about?" She pointed to the unopened dispatch. "Kin ye' can't trust?"

"That's putting it mildly." Sighing once again, she broke the seal open with a knife and unfurled it. Reading the contents.

Dearest Sansa,

It brings me joy to find out that your brother has secured the Twins. Walder Frey deserved to die for how he betrayed your family. How he betrayed your mother - of whom I loved since I was a boy. I count down the days till you put down the lion as you did the Flayed Man and the bridge.

Why did Sansa have the feeling that Littlefinger would rather be writing the exact same words only with a condolence for the death of Jon? Because you're not an idiot. Jon was truly one of a kind - Sansa figured that even if he were here, that she'd be given the same level of authority - but it was still easier to deal with the opponent one knew as the sole bargainer. Pursing her lips, she read on.

Now that the Riverlands will undoubtedly declare for Stannis, the more… cautious Lords of the Vale are certain to drop their reluctance to my urging to side on behalf of those that avenged the deaths of Jon Arryn and my beloved Catelyn. I will be sending a raven to the Stag King for a parlay in Harrenhal personally, as the castle is still mine. But I don't fear that such a meeting would go as well if you were not there, my little bird. Shouldn't be too hard a journey if you push it.

Sweetrobin is eager to see his beloved cousin again… as am I.

All my love,

Uncle Petyr.

A shudder of revulsion passed over Sansa's body at the salutation line. That the man who used her to drive her aunt insane and then sold her to the Boltons… She was only barely healed from that alone. Now, he was trying to claim he cared for her. Sansa wasn't fooled, but Petyr Baelish wasn't someone she could dismiss or have executed. Will have to tread carefully.

"So I gather that he's shittin' out of his mouth as he talks, huh?" Osha may have been blunt and rather… libertine regarding courtly manners, but the new Sansa appreciated it. There were no airs with her, and she was proven loyal to House Stark. With Jon leaving her in charge, Sansa had come to trust Osha as her unofficial 'Hand.' "I'll take your silence as a yes."

"Petyr Baelish… he is a coward who gets his way through blackmail, secrets, and trickery."

"Those kinds of men get their teeth kicked in up in the True North. Or fed to the shadowcats."

A chuckle left Sansa's face. Oh, would that be satisfying. "As tempting as that may be, Littlefinger also has the entire Vale on his side."

Osha blinked. "That's a big deal, right?"

"One of the two Kingdoms that still has an intact army. Probably could secure Stannis and Jon twenty thousand men at least. Probably more." She folded the letter. "I'm going to have to pack."

"Don't tell me you're actually acceptin' his offer? Probably a trap."

"Aye, a trap, but I doubt he thinks I'm anything more than a broken shell leaning on Jon for support." Sansa stood, brushing at her skirts. "I'll bring Lyanna Mormont, Alys Karstark, and Wyman Manderly with me. Easier to disguise myself when the she-Bear does the talking for the both of us." She scribbled some words on a piece of parchment, folding it for the rookery. "I'll get to pick up Arya."

They both left the solar, walking across the balcony overlooking the inner courtyard. "And you don't trust the White Wolf to do the negotiatin?"

Did she trust Jon to do this? Could the darker, stronger Jon Stark do what the beaten, honorable whelp on Snow couldn't? It was clear to Sansa. "I love Jon, but Littlefinger would chew him up and spit him out. I have to go."

"Get out there! Fuckin' cunts, go!" Enjoying the procession of gloomy and terrified noblemen, Daario Naharis gestured with his sword. The Second Sons shepherding the line of prisoners began knocking them about. Fists flying and whips cracking. "Now you know what the whip is like, assholes. Go faster!"

Jeers and spit from the other sellswords followed. Reluctantly, the trembling prisoners increased their speed. Truth be told, the stone cold Unsullied lined along the walls terrified them far more than the gregarious sellswords. The bloodthirsty Dothraki screamers that seemed to be everywhere were worse than the freed slave soldiers...

Three screeching bellows from the stands of the fighting pits made many stumble upon the ground. Yelps of fear joined with the pungent stench of soiled garments among the stalled prisoners. Amber eyes watching them with barely contained rage, it was the three great dragons that scared them the most. Ones that single-handedly forced the surrender of the attacking fleet. That led the attack of the Dothraki to butcher the Sons of the Harpy to the last man. And now they watched over them, lambs to the slaughter.

Herded into a single open space, a raised platform housed their one hope of salvation - or alternately the angel of death herself. Daenerys Targaryen was a beautiful woman, hells, considered by many to be the most beautiful woman in the world. In the fine silks of vibrant color that she normally wore, she was breathtaking. The black Targaryen battle dress was no less breathtaking, but also exuded a shroud of majesty and terror to all comers that stood in her way.

The collection of masters, merchants, other assorted noblemen, sellsword captains, and handlers of slave soldiers knew they were witnessing Visenya Targaryen reborn.

Daario bounded up the steps to stand by Daenerys' side, only to be rebuffed by the silent Grey Worm, who guarded her direct flank with Ser Barristan. Looking at Daenerys for assistance, and finding none, Daario nodded in resignation and took a place next to the Imp and Lord Varys. Waiting for the Lady Missandei to begin. "You stand before Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, First of Her Name, The Unburnt, Rightful Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Protector of the Realm, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons."

Silence followed, pierced only by the coughs of the prisoners and grunts of the dragons behind the platform. "Gathered masters," began Daenerys in High Valyrian. "You have engaged in the mass suffering of human beings for your entire adult lives. Profiting from it. Against my better judgement I granted you mercy each time I was victorious. A mercy not repaid to me or my subjects…"

"Foreign whore!" One rather brave young master shouted. "You and your eunuchs and sellsword cocksuckers will never subjucate us!" Drogon's angered screech silenced him.

Of a regal demeanor till then, Daenerys' fair skin curled as she smiled. One of half triumph, half… satisfaction. "You are correct there, good master. I will not subjugate you." She let her words hang. "My mercy has reached the end of its tether. In its place will rests fire and blood." All three dragons hooted shrilly, deafening ears.

Realization dawned on the prisoners. Many pleaded for mercy, many shouted their innocence, still many just collapsed onto the ground in fearful heaps. Only a few stood tall. Stoic in the face of death.

Daenerys at least had some respect for them. The others were no more than insects. Not bothering with them anymore, she turned to her children. "Dracarys."

Maws opening, all screams of the condemned were drowned out in the sheer fury of the dragonfire. Shooting out to envelop them in a cloud of red-orange that bathed all around it in a searing heat. Missandei and Tyrion, Varys and Daario, even the hardened warriors Barristan and Grey Worm looked away from the carnage, but not Daenerys. She stayed to watch the whole thing unfold. Watch the might of her dragons unleash fire and blood upon her enemies.

Tyrion and Barristan counseled mercy the night prior to the battle upon her return, but Daenerys refused. "Did they give mercy to the children they crucified? To the innocents they slaughtered?" She'd asked them. The answer spoke for itself, and Daenerys gave the same mercy back to them.

It was over in barely a minute, nothing but a pile of ash remaining where three dozen men once stood. The dragons let out one collective roar before leaping into the air, massive wingbeats propelling them out of the fighting pits. Once they had disappeared, Daenerys calmly motioned to her bloodriders. Hands resting on her abdomen, she descended the steps and walked towards the exit, advisors in tow.

Barristan exchanged a glance to Tyrion as they followed their Queen into their Queen's solar. Daenerys strolled out on the balcony, leaving everyone inside. She stared out over Meereen, seeing her children dance with each other in the distance. Her palms rested on the barrister before her, her eyes shot over to the still smoking ships of the former masters. The sight did provide some relief, and witnessing the destruction of the masters was an interesting feeling as well. Never had she fully enjoyed using her dragons for death, yet watching the masters burn down to their bones allowed her let a breath she'd been holding for some time.

Then her eyes set West, over the vast sea, unable to see to the other side. She wondered what lies on the other side. Tyrion had told her some things, but none of that portrayed enough to actually know. She couldn't relate to his words. Still it excited her somewhat, being able to finally cross the sea. The unknown of what she'd find there unsettled her though. Oftentimes she'd call Westeros her 'home' despite the fact she'd never set foot there. After being born on Dragonstone, she was taken directly across the Narrow Sea for safety. Of course, she had no memory of her ancestral seat. The only things she knew about Westeros was the things she'd been told. Which felt unnatural given she was supposed to rule over them.

Feeling a presence behind her, she turned. Tyrion stood there, he spoke, "We are going to begin now, My Queen."

Daenerys didn't answer, only shifting to go back inside, her dress whipping. All of her advisors sat around a long table in her solar, she didn't sit, just resting her hands on her chair at the end. Everyone looked to her, she said, plainly, "Don't let me hold you all up."

Everyone of importance inside her camp gathered there. Ser Barristan, Tyrion, Grey Worm, Missandei, and Daario. With two new additions, some days ago brought the arrival of Yara and Theon Greyjoy. They fled their homeland after their uncle Euron took over. They offered Dany their ships in exchange for help in securing Pyke. The extra ships were very welcome at the time, so she accepted. They all took a seat before her, she still stayed up.

Tyrion cleared his throat, laying palms on the table, "With the new ships from the Greyjoys, we'll be able to transport the vast majority of our troops."

"Everyone?" Dany asked, smirking slightly.

"Yes, My Queen," Ser Barristan answered. "Dothraki, Unsullied, and… the Second Sons."

Daario eyed the Queen, feeling confident, but much to his dismay she looked away. Though she said, "Good."

"Where are we headed with said ships?" Yara spoke up.

"Dragonstone," Tyrion said.

"Doesn't Stannis hold it?"

"No, not for months, he needs the men elsewhere," said Barristan. "He used it as a stronghold for many years but it never meant enough to him to keep men there to hold it."

"He needs all the men he can get with him," Tyrion added.

"And where is he?" Dany inquired.

"Somewhere in the Riverlands, we don't know specifically," Tyrion shrugged. "But he's most likely headed to the Vale to try to secure them to his side."

"Will he be able to?"

Tyrion sighed, "Most likely. His relationship with the Starks will be quite helpful I imagine."

"The Vale has the most intact army in all of Westeros along with Dorne," Barristan pointed out. "Neither of them have been in a battle since the Rebellion. We're negotiating with Dorne, while we have no contacts in the Vale"

"Doesn't matter," Dany said, tone unwavering. "Just more for Drogon."

Several of her advisors seemed uneasy at such sentiment. "Well… they won't outnumber us, it's just that the Vale has quite the calvary," Tyrion said.

"Better than thousands of Dothraki on horseback?" Dany asked, somewhat incredulous.

"I don't know, my Queen."

"Unlikely," Dany shook her head.

"What about Jon Stark?" Theon spoke up over everyone. "He just took the Twins, I heard."

"He's sworn to Stannis," Tyrion frowned. "I knew that boy once. But he's changed a lot since then."

"What'd you mean?"

"Well for starters he was a bastard."

"Is he not now?" Yara snorted.

"Stannis legitimized him," Theon told his sister.

"From what I hear he's quite the military leader," Barristan smirked, adding his voice to the discussion. "Tearing through the Boltons and Walder Frey."

"I heard he hacked through Walder with his own sword-"

"Enough about this Stark," Dany snapped. "If he's as good as you all say he'll bend the knee to his rightful Queen. If not no matter, him and Stannis are no match for Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal."

"Why don't you just take those three dragons and fly them to King's Landing?" Yara snorted. "The war would be over rather quickly, with Cersei at least."

Dany began to open her mouth to speak, but Tyrion was faster, "At the loss of hundreds of thousands of innocents. They'll be no one left for her to rule."

Yara scoffed, "No one would miss all those swineherds."

Tyrion pulled a face, "What? Women and children all-"

Dany held her hands up and raised her voice, "Enough! I will not take my dragons to the Red Keep. I don't want to rule a people that hate me, or that are nothing but a pile of ashes." Her… satisfaction from earlier only applied to her enemies, not helpless civilians. All her life, she's tried to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.

Tyrion looked at Dany and nodded, "Yes, the people will choose you. They can't choose you if they're dead."

"As we did," Missandei added.

Dany locked eyes with her best friend for a few moments, saying all she needed. Then actually began to speak again, "Once we make land, then what?"

"By the time we reach Westeros, it will have taken us at least a month if not more if the winds aren't kind," Yara told her.

"By then, Stannis will have likely secured the Vale," Tyrion surmised.

"Where will he go next?"

"Further South? We will know more when we land."

Dany huffed suddenly and turned her back, "Get everything ready, I want to leave as soon as possible… That's enough for today."

No particular order everyone began to shuffle out of the room, though Dany needed to speak with one of them in particular.

"Not you, Naharis."

She walked back out onto the terrace, waiting for Daario to follow, which he did. When she felt his form behind her she turned to him, Daario moved to stand next to her. The two of them had enjoyed many intimacies of late. But all that had to stop now.

"I hoped you'd wanted to see me," Daario purred, stepping closer to her.

But she put a hand on his chest, "Ser Barristan wants me to leave you here, Lord Tyrion as well."

He laughed, "But you told them no."

"Not because of the reasons flooding your brain right now," Dany said, taking her hand away.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You'll come with us West, but you won't share my bed."

Daario scoffed, backing up, "You're letting those dusty cunts tell you what to do?"

"No one tells me what to do," Dany warned, pointing a finger at him. "But they are my advisors for a reason. I wouldn't allow them to speak to me if I didn't value their advice. I can't be spending nights in bed with a sellsword."

"Why not? You don't think Kings and Queen don't have lovers?"

"Count yourself lucky I'm bringing you at all," Dany's voice turned stern. "I certainly don't have to. But I see no reason to leave men that fight for me here when I'll need them across the sea. You will serve as my sword, as you have before."

Daario crossed his arms, "I'll kick that fucking Imp."

"You'll do no such thing," Dany sighed. "Across the sea, I'll need to make allies, and the best way to secure an alliance is with marriage."

"Who are you going to marry now?"

"I'm not sure," Dany replied, turning her head to Meereen.

"Some old lord?"

"I hope not."

"You don't have to, you know?" Daario said, entreating on her space again.

She didn't look at him, "I've heard enough, you can go." He rolled his eyes and stepped off. When he moved away she added, "Send for Ser Barristan, I need him." Resting in her loosely closed palm was the pin for her Hand - the old knight was the only one she could trust to give it to.

There was a pause. "Yes, my Queen." His tone was frosty, bitter.

Daenerys realized out she really did not care much for the sellsword. She sighed and returned her gaze to the vast sea before her.

Feeling surprisingly anxious to cross it on the morrow.

Running his hands along the grey stone of the battlements, Stannis gazed upon the massive spires of Harrenhal castle. Stabbing into the sky. Harren the Black's attempt to defy the very gods themselves. Fat lot of good it did him. The gods struck him down, their fury being that of Aegon the Conqueror atop Balerion the Dread. Even now, the melted stone rested atop the ruined towers - a grisly corpse visible to all as a reminder of Targaryen greatness.

The same Targaryens and dragons that were due to arrive in Westeros some time in the future. Such was where Stannis' mind was - Davos spoke to his side, retelling tales of victories Stannis and his armies had won. How they ended up from a broken mess on Dragonstone into an army that had conquered everything north of the great Harrenhal castle.

Not enough. Never enough while the dragon exists.

"... and Lord Stark will be with us within the fortnight Lady Stark only days after from Winterfell."

The King managed to hear the last sentence. "Lady Stark?"

"Aye, the Lady Sansa. She told her brother that her presence would help with negotiations to secure the Vale's loyalty. With Lysa Arryn dead they'd be more inclined to break their neutrality and support our claim to the throne."

The Vale. Untouched masses of fresh troops, scarred not by war. Thousands upon thousands of them. If I am to defeat Daenerys Targaryen and her dragons, I will need the capitol. If treating with Petyr Baelish and giving into his demands was needed, then he would do what was needed. "Good. I look forward to hosting Lord Baelish."

Davos raised an eyebrow. "What are you willing to concede to him?"

"Whatever is necessary." The King took one last look out at the God's Eye, letting the gentle rippling of the dark water calm him. "I shall take my leave now. I suggest you do the same after a long ride here."

"Of course, our Grace."

He found her by the fire. She's closer to it than Melisandre. Stannis wasn't surprised. The true Queen of the Seven Kingdoms had been a more devoted convert to the Faith of R'hllor than he - even after he had seen the truth at Hardhome, she bade the life-giving flames a greater devotion. Stannis was hard, dispassionate in the face of his destiny. Selyse… she had the zeal and fanaticism for the both of them. "My Queen," he said, stepping close to her. Reaching to touch her shoulder. "You should get your rest. The delegates should arrive on the morrow."

"I can see in the fire, my husband." Her voice was faraway, eyes wide… almost alight. "I see greatness for you. For us."

Gently pulling her to him, Stannis gave his wife a kiss on the forehead. He hadn't laid with her in years, but still respected the woman who had given him his beautiful Shireen. Even if only Davos and I see it, she is beautiful. "I know, my dear. The sword standing athwart the world, bading the night to halt."

Her lips contorted into a wishful grin. "You will have a son, my King. A proper heir to claim your legacy."

"It is of no consequence, wife. Shireen will marry and produce an heir whom I will adopt as my own. Our line will live on."

Selyse hissed, turning away. "My… daughter. I was too weak, under the sway of the false gods of my father and brother. The Lord punished me for that… punished me with a monster…"

The back of Stannis' hand silenced her. Bright red handprint marring her pale cheek. "Do not call my daughter a monster," he ground out. "One more time and you will die."

Silence roaring through the chamber for what seemed like hours, finally Selyse fell to tears. "Forgive me, my King… as I said, I am weak." Her head fell into her hands. "I just worry for you… about threats to you. Great victories have vaulted you back into true contention over your throne, and any even seeming weakness could destroy you. " Mood turning on a gold dragon, she snarled, pacing back and forth. "The lion bitch, currently sitting on your throne. The dragon whore, ready to finish what her mad father started… Jon Snow…" While each of the first two names were said with hate, Selyse saved the last for a particular venom.

Stannis furrowed his brows. "Lord Stark?" He had gotten used to a lot of his wife's rantings, casting demons at their enemies while holding up Melisandre as a great savior. Now though, Stannis was completely befuddled. "He is one of my generals, my Queen, not an enemy."

"He's plotting against you! I know that bastard is doing it!"

"He is not a bastard, my dear. I legitimized him…"

She waved it off. "That filth is still a product of the lust Eddard Stark had for a common whore. Give him a new name doesn't make him any less of a greedy, conniving bastard." Her eyes turned to him, wide with a wild fury. "Don't you see, my King… he is going to betray you."

Turning away, Stannis snorted. "You're as mad as the Mad King."

But Selyse wouldn't let it go. "No! You must listen to me!"

"You accuse my most loyal supporter of treason? You're delusional if you think the man that helped win my comeback… win the North, Riverlands, and now on the cusp of the Vale as well…"

"That's my point, my King!" Eyes hard, Stannis nevertheless turned to allow his wife to get the rant out of her system. Selyse jumped at the opportunity. "You won everything to get you here, but I hear what the men say. I hear them speak not of the Stag of Fire, but the White Wolf. The 'Wrath of the North screaming south from the wall like a blizzard.' Saving his siblings and avenging his father and brother. Killing all that wronged House Stark…"

"He's done that, and I am proud of the lad." Sincerity dripped from Stannis' voice. The boy was like the son he always dreamed of having. One he couldn't have, that Robert was too drunk to see he didn't have, and Renly was too busy buggering boys to care about having. "When Davos decides to head home to his family, Jon Stark will be my Hand and we will defeat the night together. Rebuild this broken land together."

Selyse stared at him as if he had three heads. "No… you don't see. He is slowly turning your men against you! Making them love him, not you! That bastard is doing what he's doing best, coveting a trueborn's birthright and stealing it…"

"I've had enough of this," Stannis growled. "Do whatever you wish. Sleep, brood, rant, or go to the Seven Hells for all I care. I am going to sleep, and won't hear another minute of this rubbish." Thankfully, she had the sense to shut up before he did something he'd regret.

Perhaps she is right… a little voice deep in his mind expressed.

Stannis shook the thought. Rubbish. The King fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

A/N: BRuh4: Dany is on the way people, for reals this time. I'm sure many of you have your theories as what's gonna happen. I can firmly say that you probably not even close. It's gonna be wild, and you're gonna be blown away. Not that we're trying to 'subvert your expectations' or anything, we're not. But you won't see it coming.

Longclaw: Yep, Dany is really DarkDany here. Bringing fire and blood to those that cross her. Granted, she is one of the heroes, so don't worry bout it ;)

Daario is not a character I like, but his going to Westeros will be very important.

Sansa here is what we've wished Sansa to be: loyal to Jon but conscious of the limitations they both have. He's the leader, she's the political power player behind the scenes protecting him. As for Osha and Selyse, we aren't lazy in finding roles for our characters like Dipshit and Dumbfuck.

Be sure to check out my new story, My Father's Son!

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