Chapter 2
Daenerys sat in the library on the east side of the castle, looking out over the mountains where her dragons made their nests. Viserion and Rhaegal were circling in the sky, while Drogon rested below. She wanted Drogon to be well-rested for tomorrow's mission to Blackwater Bay, where she planned to confront Euron Greyjoy and his fleet. The mere thought of him stirred a murderous rage within her. In every one of her lifetimes, Euron had either injured Viserion or killed Rhaegal. This time, she would tear him apart and feed him to her dragons. And if she had to go back in time again, she would make sure to destroy him, no matter what else went wrong.
Daenerys had spent her sixth life investigating the mysterious cycle she was trapped in. She had consulted the red priestesses of Volantis, searched the ruins of Valyria, and spent years studying at the Citadel, but found no answers. The only constant in all her lives was that if she failed to conquer Westeros or defeat the Night King, she was sent back in time. Perhaps she needed to achieve an overwhelming victory and fulfill her destiny. Perhaps she was meant to rule, conquer, and dominate the world before she died, or else be forced to repeat her life over and over again.
This was the only explanation Daenerys could think of.
She realized she needed to learn everything she could. She had been clever enough to survive this long, to devise war strategies and capture cities. But she lacked the ability to read people, to use them effectively, to speak to other rulers diplomatically. She had relied solely on the fear her dragons inspired. People feared her dragons, not her. In her fifth life, she had tried to win over the people of Westeros, to prevent the tragedies that had befallen her. She even learned to wield a sword so that her loyal Jorah would not die. He survived, but she was poisoned by Varys, who hoped to control Jon Snow after crowning him.
Daenerys did not want to be like her brother, who believed that the people of Westeros were eagerly awaiting the return of the Targaryens. She thought she was not that naive, but in truth, she had been. She believed they would welcome her with open arms, even though they knew nothing about her and had suffered under bad kings and queens for decades. This time, she did not care for their welcome. She wanted only victory. She would create her own legacy, her own house. Daenerys Targaryen was no more. She would become Daenerys of house Stormborn.
Daenerys immersed herself in books on the history of Westeros and Essos, war strategies, the War of the Five Kings, and anything else she could find. She devoured information all day in the library. Stannis Baratheon, it seemed, had been an avid collector of books on strategy.
"Your Grace… Your Grace," Daenerys heard someone call.
Missandei stood there with Tyrion.
"Yes?"
"A red priestess named Melisandre is here to see you, Your Grace," Missandei replied.
"Melisandre?"
"Yes, Your Grace. She served Stannis Baratheon before his death," Tyrion added.
Daenerys had almost forgotten about her. She had not met this red priestess in any of her lives except the first. Melisandre was the one who had spoken of the prophecy that Rhaegar had pursued. She remembered now that Melisandre had told her Jon Snow was the prince that was promised.
"What does she want?"
"No idea, Your Grace. She says she will speak only with you."
This priestess could be useful to her this time. "I see. Bring her here."
"Yes, Your Grace." Missandei left to fetch Melisandre.
"Your Grace, you should be careful with her. She led Stannis Baratheon to his death. I heard she even burned Stannis's daughter as a sacrifice to her god," Tyrion warned.
Daenerys looked at Tyrion. He was no longer useful to her. She thought she needed someone familiar with Westeros as her advisor, but now she knew more than he did.
"Tyrion, you are no longer the Hand of the Queen. Stay here until Grey Worm brings your brother. After that, you can leave my council and Dragonstone. I have no further need for you."
Tyrion was left speechless, sensing that Daenerys was not in the mood for questions. So he waited.
Melisandre found herself once again standing in the library of Dragonstone, but this time before a queen instead of a king. She had heard of Daenerys—who hadn't? She had brought dragons back into the world, abolished slavery in Slaver's Bay, and united the Dothraki. Now, Melisandre believed Daenerys's assets could be crucial in the coming war and in aiding the prince that was promised. The Lord of Light would guide her.
"Queen Daenerys, I was once a slave. Bought, sold, scourged, and branded. It is an honor to meet the Breaker of Chains," Melisandre began, waiting for the queen to acknowledge her. But Daenerys remained silent, prompting her to continue.
"I have come to warn you of the great war that is coming, Your Grace. Have you heard of 'The Others'?"
Again, there was no response. Daenerys simply stared at Melisandre, who felt a sudden chill in the air but pressed on.
"The King in the North, Jon Snow, is preparing to fight 'The Others'."
"Is that so?" Daenerys finally replied.
"Yes, Your Grace. He has faced them before, saved the people beyond the Wall, and even faced betrayal from his own men. He is now the King in the North, crowned by his people. This war will be a battle between humanity and death itself. He needs your help, Your Grace. He is the prince that was promised."
"Why are you here?"
"I just told you, Your Grace. I am here to warn you of the coming doom."
"That's not what I'm asking. What do you gain from this?"
"Nothing, Your Grace. I only wish to help the prince that was promised. That is why I came to Westeros. I thought Stannis Baratheon was the one, but he was not."
"Why not stay with your prince and help him as you did with Stannis?"
Melisandre did not answer at first. Daenerys did not press her, returning to her book instead.
"He exiled me," Melisandre eventually admitted.
"I see. Then why come here? If he exiled you, why are you helping him?"
"I believe he is the prince that was promised."
"Why do you believe that?" Daenerys had always wondered. Why did Melisandre think of him as the prince? She didn't know Jon Snow was Rhaegar's son. Was it because he survived Hardhome? Because he showed more determination than anyone else to fight the Night King? She wanted to know.
"I was able to use my Lord's powers again to save him. The Lord of Light willed me to save him, Your Grace. If my Lord wants him to live, he must have a significant role in the war to come."
"Well, that answer is not satisfactory. You may leave." Daenerys turned to leave the library. She had more pressing matters than this nonsense.
"Your Grace, you have a role to play in the war to come, and you will need Jon Snow to win."
Daenerys stopped and turned to Melisandre. "You are quite brave, Lady Melisandre. Do you realize where you are?" Her voice was cold, her face expressionless as she addressed Melisandre. Two Unsullied soldiers near the library entrance stepped forward, their spears pointed at Melisandre's throat, ready to strike at Daenerys's command.
"You stand before a queen and dare to give orders?" Daenerys continued. "I have a role to play in the war? Do tell, what role am I supposed to play?"
Melisandre swallowed hard but said nothing. One of the spears grazed her red necklace.
"What happened? Where is your courage now? You were supposed to die here in Westeros, weren't you? Then let me fulfill your destiny." Melisandre was shocked. How did Daenerys know about her death? And now that she thought about it, Daenerys hadn't even asked about 'The Others'. The spear pressed harder against her throat.
"I still have one more task before my end, Your Grace," Melisandre pleaded.
Daenerys studied her. She wanted total victory in all her battles, but she didn't want to commit unnecessary killings; she had done enough of those in her past lives.
"You will not be needed in the great war. My Dothraki will not participate. Neither you nor your Lord of Light can do anything against 'The Others'. Leave Westeros and return to Volantis. Spread the word that I will soon come to free the slaves and slay the masters. Release her."
Without looking back, Daenerys left the library. Melisandre had underestimated her. Daenerys had the ancient blood of Valyria flowing through her veins. Daenerys had magic in her blood. And she knew everything.
Melisandre pondered the true identity of the prince that was promised as she prepared to leave Dragonstone.
Daenerys flew over the ships near Driftmark, where they waited to capture Ellaria and Yara. Yara had gone with Grey Worm to deploy the Unsullied near Highgarden, as per Daenerys's orders. Ellaria was returning to Dorne alone, and Daenerys did
not care whether she lived or died. But this was her chance to kill Euron Greyjoy, and she would seize it eagerly.
She spotted the Silence below, waiting to ambush the ships near Driftmark. No one had noticed her. She descended swiftly, giving Euron no chance to escape.
Dracarys
He looked up screaming to find a huge dragon with a silver haired woman riding it destroying his ship. He screamed and screamed in pain. And before he even thought of jumping into the water, he heard the roar of the dragon very close above him and saw violet eyes staring back at him as he burned to ash. He didn't know why the violet eyes were filled with vengeance so strong. But all he could do was burn.
Daenerys burned the Iron fleet to nothing before returning to Dragonstone.
Euron was dead. The Iron Fleet was no more. Cersei had lost her favorite pawn. Soon, she would lose her head. And just like Missandei, she would die before her loved ones.