The storm was still going on and there was no sign that it would end anytime soon. It was raging all night and Visenya couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned and stood up to pace around the room until she finally gave up. She never had trouble falling asleep during a storm. Maybe today was different... She had the impression that she managed to fall asleep for a short while and then woke up because she saw something terrible.

Past? Future? She had no idea, no memory of the images that cut through her mind like a sword's blade. She didn't remember fragments of the screams of burning people or her own screams, she didn't remember feeling like she was dying.

It should be dawn in about two hours, and the storm wasn't letting up. Visenya, on the other hand, had already given up trying to sleep, got dressed and left her room. The castle wasn't noisy even during the day, but now the silence was almost deafening, especially combined with the unexpected booms of thunder.
She went to the dungeons because she knew no one would look for her there. She leaned against the wall and slumped down, finally sitting on the ground. The rain and thunder were even fainter here...

It was perhaps the only place in the castle where the weight on her shoulders seemed to become lighter. She occupied the chambers where her father and all the other heirs had once lived, and thoughts of them haunted her there almost all the time. In the throne room she also thought about them, even when she walked through the corridors they did not leave her alone.

But here? In the dungeons? She didn't think anyone in her family before her just came to sit here, looking like a rebuked child. Here she did not feel the burden of the name, 'the greatest dynasty this world has ever seen'. She didn't have to be strong, she didn't have to think, she could just close her eyes and relax from everything. After all, who would look for the Queen in the dungeons? If someone was even looking for her at this hour...

Only now did she feel the weight of what she had committed to and wanted someone to take the burden off her shoulders. To wake her up when it's all over, when the war is over and this whole chapter is closed. In Essos it was simpler, she wasn't connected with those lands, they didn't know her there, the people were different.

She didn't know how long she sat by that wall, but when she got out and looked out the window, the sun was shining through the storm clouds. It looked like the rain would soon end and the beautiful weather would return. May the clouds disappear from her thoughts at the same time...

"Your Grace?" walking through the corridor leading to her chambers, she came across Tyrion. "It's very early for you."

"The thunder woke me up, I needed to take a walk." she replied quickly, partly lying. He could see it, her coat not fully buttoned, her hair pulled back in a lazier way, more of a Meereen style, where most of it was down. "I don't associate you with being a morning person either."

"It happens to me sometimes, especially when things require it." she nodded and there was silence for a moment as they walked confidently towards her room. "Do you want to continue meeting in the morning, or would you rather wait until breakfast?"

"I'm not hungry." she replied immediately, entering the room. Tyrion entered right behind her and closed the door.

He was worried if she was okay. He didn't miss the fact that she had slightly dark circles under her eyes - as if she hadn't slept at all - and, of course, her clothes were sloppier than usual, which she was now fixing. She stood in front of the mirror and buttoned the buttons up to her neck, then reached into her hair to gather the loose strands into one four-strand braid.

"You know we can trust each other?" he addressed her directly. Her hands near her hair stopped for a moment, but she quickly continued her work. "We only exchanged a few words, but I see you're acting different. What is it?"

She didn't say anything, but it wasn't because she didn't want to, it was just... She didn't know how. She reached for a piece of string and tied the end of the braid, wondering how to put into words what and why she felt that way.

Was she really overwhelmed by the weight of her family's history? Maybe it was a responsibility for every person who followed her? For decisions that will affect the lives of thousands? Or maybe she was afraid for the future?

Or maybe all at once?

"Is it about your conversation with Stark last night?"

She almost froze at the suggestion. Almost. She reached for her coat and buttoned it around her shoulders, immediately adjusting the way the slit sleeves lay along her arms.

"Where did you get this idea from?" she muttered, slowly running her hand over the clasp that now held her coat.

This couldn't be it. She may have felt strange in his presence or when their hands briefly touched, but he wasn't on her mind. All she could think about was what their next step should be, that's all.
But this suggestive question made her start asking herself the same question.

"You left Daario in Meereen."

Was he implying that she...
No. He can't be serious. I won't discuss this with him any longer.

"Are there any news from him?" she asked, already turning away from the mirror. Now she looked much more like the version of her that had boarded the ship to Westeros in Meereen. With her hair tied up, in full costume in her new style, only she looked tired, although she tried her hardest not to let it show.

"You're changing the subject. I know from experience that this means I'm right."

"I know from experience that people who are too curious don't get answers." she replied in a slightly malicious tone because she didn't manage to stop herself. "Why are you so interested in this?" she had already mastered her tone when she asked this question.

"I am your Hand, I am here to advise you. How can I do this without knowing everything?" she sighed. She couldn't deny he was right, but on the other hand she knew he wasn't entirely right about what was bothering her. "You asked me for honesty, and now I'm asking for the same."

"I don't know." she finally said, or rather, she almost shouted it. "The entire dynasty and the fate of thousands of people rest on my shoulders, but there's nothing to worry about, after all, I already ruled the city once, right?"

With a heavy sigh, she walked to the window. The rain had stopped now and the clouds were slowly thinning out, soon they should completely reveal the blue sky. At least the weather wouldn't make her terrible mood worse.

She guessed that was what she was most afraid of in her life: That she would fail. And after tonight, she had a feeling somewhere in her heart that this how it all will turn out. She couldn't come to terms with it.

"If you think things will get better someday: They won't." you really can't console. "A lot has fallen on you, and even more will fall once you take the throne. But you are not alone." she wasn't looking at him, but she felt him approach her and gently grab her hand. For a moment she wanted to tell him not to do such things, but she changed her mind. "You have to finally share this burden with someone, otherwise it will crush you." he let go of her hand and started walking away.

Well, she wanted honesty, and she got it.
How could she share this with anyone when the decisions were hers?

"Tyrion." she stopped him with her voice when he was already at the door. "Let's all meet in the map chamber in an hour. We will finish yesterday's discussion." he nodded, smiling gently - as if comforting - which she reciprocated and he left.

She didn't spend that hour in her chamber, but in the one where they were supposed to meet. Everything still looked the same as in the evening, the figurines stood the same, there was even some wine left. She sat down in her seat at the head of the table and waited, and everyone showed up even earlier than she asked.

I wonder if it is the chair Stannis sat on when he planned attack on the capital.

"I know what we'll do." she raised an eyebrow when Tyrion spoke first. She was about to say the exact same thing, but now she was intrigued by his idea. "My previous plan didn't turn out to be the best, I know, we didn't anticipate the attack of the Iron Fleet..."

"The Iron Fleet, which has reached the shores of King's Landing." Varys interjected. "Apparently Euron doesn't care that much about meeting you when he can't dictate the terms."

Getting there from Blackwater Bay when the Iron Fleet is stationed there will not be an easy task if she chooses to do so.
It seems that this is the end of the negotiations for the return of the prisoners... It was a bit painful that nothing came of her attempts.

"Well, that's his problem. I intend to carry out my threat." she rested her elbow on the armrest and rested her chin on hand. "What did you come up with this time?" she said to her Hand.

"Attack." he surprised her a little, she didn't expect that he would propose an attack on 'his' people - even though he swore to serve her. "The army that Cersei sent to Riverrun to help the Freys - according to the information we know - is to stop near King's Landing, probably in case of a siege of the city. My brother, Jaime, leads them."

She felt sad for a moment at the mention of Jaime. She didn't like him, but she didn't wish him dead - but if that was the price for the Iron Throne... She was willing to pay it.

"I suggest we show them that this is not a war they can win." he continued. "We will let Jaime escape from the battlefield, he will definitely go to the capital. He has a golden hand, your army will easily recognize who not to kill. He's intelligent, even if he doesn't convince Cersei to surrender, the army won't stand behind her anymore."

"I would argue with this 'intelligence'." what he proposed didn't sound bad, but she wasn't convinced. She had a feeling that what she and Stark had discussed yesterday would have been easier and faster, even with the Iron Fleet, there would have been a place for a few people to slip through unnoticed. "We can just kill Cersei herself." she straightened up in her chair, resting her clasped hands on the table. "Varys knows the secret passages under the keep. No one in the city likes her, the Lords barely tolerate her, if at all. No one will think I did wrong."

"My advice is not to stab someone in the back if you don't want to be treated that way." he said it in a calm tone. He really wanted her to be well-regarded among people. However, he could not hide the fact that he also wanted to protect his brother from death... Although they did not even discuss killing him.

He knew Cersei was evil. He felt bad for her several times throughout his life because she loved her children, and he himself loved his niece and nephew. Now they are just cold bodies. And Tommen... For all he knows, he committed suicide the same day Cersei blew up the sept. It couldn't have been an accident, it was his mother's fault that he killed himself...

There seemed to be nothing he wanted to say to his sister. The only thing they had in common was their surname.

"And if your plan fails... Will you take responsibility?" she asked. After her last failure, she was more sensitive to what she agreed to.

There was silence - or more precisely - the unbearable kind of silence. It reigned until Varys decided to speak up.

"It's not a bad idea, Your Grace." he agreed with his friend. "I can tell my birds to whisper a few good words about you in the city, and it will open itself to you when the army that would be able to stop them surrenders."

Of course he would support his plan.

There were two ideas to end the war in her head. She knew that everyone was waiting for her final decision now, not in the future - near or far. One way or another, people will die. She remembered her conversation with Hizdahr: 'Has anyone ever achieved anything great without killing and cruelty?'

"Alright." she said finally. "We'll send the Dothraki, they'll do best in an open field. I'll be there too." she added the last sentence even though she knew perfectly well that no one would like it.

"What? I'm sorry, my Queen, but you can't risk your life. The Dothraki will be enough." this was exactly the reaction she expected from Tyrion. She could even see, by looking at ser Arthur, that he was thinking exactly the same thing, even though he hadn't said a word.

"You said to show them they can't win." she calmly quoted his own words. "So that's what I'm going to do. I won't be alone, I'll fly on Maelia. Nobody will do anything to her."

"Dragons are not immortal."

"One well-aimed arrow is enough to kill you, you don't have to get rid of the dragon to do so." All in all, but she didn't expect Varys to express fear for her life.

Perhaps I shouldn't have doubted his intentions...

"I appreciate that you're worried about me, but I don't need it." she stood up from her chair and everyone else who was sitting did the same. "I've been through a lot and no arrow will destroy my future. I try to trust you, so trust me also."

"This is not a matter of trust, but of your safety. Why take the risk?"

"Because I am the Queen and I must be willing to risk my life for the good of my people."

"The Dothraki should have reached the shores of the Crownlands yesterday. I should be getting off soon." she and Missandei descended the stairs to the beach. Apparently she should see something in the caves before they start mining dragonglass.

"Are you sure? I'm sure they'd be fine on their own, and you sent Tyrion with them to keep an eye on everything just in case. You shouldn't take the risk."

"You should find someone else to worry about besides me." she said it lightly, even though she knew perfectly well that something was going on between Missandei and Grey Worm. She just didn't realize that their relationship had already moved on to the next stage... She started to suspect it only when she saw her smile and the way she looked away. "Something happened?" she asked gently, smiling herself.

"A lot of things." this answer was enough to make everything clear between them. She squeezed her hand briefly.

She was very happy for her friend, that she had found someone in her life whom she truly loved. She herself dreamed of such a feeling, although perhaps her dream was slowly coming true...

"Issa mirre pactot, kostā umbagon." she said to the four Unsullied who were following them in case something happened. She descended the remaining stairs - Missandei behind her - and spoke to Robb. "What should I see?"

*"It's okay, you can stay."*

For some reason, he barely heard the question because he was focused on how she pronounced the words in Valyrian. It reminded him of Talisa writing a letter to her mother in this language. Maybe it was about three years ago, but he still remembered her voice and her accent sounded slightly different. She didn't emphasize the 'r' as much as Visenya, but either way they both sounded beautiful when they spoke this language.

It is said it's the only language suitable for poetry.

"Something that might convince you."

She raised an eyebrow but didn't comment. They walked most of the beach, in silence, before reaching the entrance to the cave, where someone was waiting with a torch so they could see where they were going inside. Fortunately, the passages were wide enough so that they didn't have to squeeze through, but you had to watch your step all the time so as not to accidentally trip over something.

When they reached the first larger space, where a fireplace had already been set up and lit...

"It is beautiful." she said, walking to one of the walls and gently running her fingers along the obsidian. The glow of the flames was reflected in it, which was pure delight to the eyes of everyone who saw it.

"I want to show you something else." she looked from the wall to him. Well, she should have known that he wouldn't drag her here just to show her something pretty...

"So lead the way." they slowly moved on, but Visenya discreetly gestured to Missandei not to follow them any further. They slowly walked through the narrow passages, the road leading slightly downhill. "What do you think makes a home?"

Firstly, she couldn't stand the silence between them because it then filled her mind with thoughts she couldn't stop, and secondly, she had been curious about his response since the moment he had mistakenly stated that she considered Dragonstone her home.
She stopped looking at her feet and instead looked at him, and he glanced at her every now and then as he answered her question.

"They say that people make a home, not places... But for me, personally, there is no home without both." she thought exactly the same, although she didn't say it.

A place without people is empty walls without a soul, and people without a place are a soul without a body, without the possibility of rest and a sense of safety.

"So where is your home?" she asked another question, squeezing sideways through the narrow passage.

"At Winterfell, when my sister is there, my half-brother... The ones I have left." she felt a twinge in her heart at the words 'the ones I have left', but it wasn't visible on her face in the limited light. Although a part of her still envied him any family. "And yours?"

It's a pity that she couldn't accept her closest friends as family, no matter how much love she treated them with, her soul was drawn to what she couldn't possess. Neither now nor ever, because it has not existed for a long time.

"I don't know." she had had a similar conversation with Tyrion once, now just as then she liked to think of King's Landing as her home. Although now she was beginning to have doubts as to whether she would feel comfortable in the Red Keep, since she already felt overwhelmed by the past here. "Maybe I don't have it at all."

"Everyone has their own place in the world. And you can create a home, you don't have to be born with it." he tried to comfort her, because he could hear the emotions in her voice. In fact, he began to feel sad as they talked about home for a longer time. First he was hurt that he would never cuddle up to his mother like he used to and that he would never hear her scolding Bran for climbing, and he would never be scolded by his father for fooling around with Theon. The times before his father left for King's Landing will never return. Just like the missed opportunity to create a home with the woman he loved.

By the way, Theon... He still felt hurt by his betrayal. He didn't even know what happened to him, was he still alive? If so, where is he now? What is he doing? Does he regret it?
He doesn't even know if he would be able to talk to him, what emotions would gather in him if such a meeting took place... Would he be ready to accept his apology? Or would he still demand his head? After all, apologies cannot fix the past.

"Can you create something when you don't even know how it looks like?"

Her words deepened the depressed atmosphere even more, but there wasn't much time to think about them, because she wasn't looking at her feet and finally tripped and fell forward, cursing.

She had already accepted that she would either hit the walls or the ground and closed her eyes, expecting to fall, but she heard something fall to the ground, and then hands grabbed her tightly under her arms, and her own hands rested on Robb's torso, before she caught her balance, braking on him.
He helped her stand on her feet, still holding her, and then her hands were on the sides of his face, and with just a small gesture she could cup his cheeks.

She didn't want to be so close to him, because in such a position it was easy to get lost in those blue, like the cloudless sky, eyes. Besides, her own irises were wonderful, it was impossible not to look at such an exotic purple, especially when surrounded by fair skin and silver hair.

For the first time in a long time, she was concerned about the fact that she might not look good appearance-wise in someone else's eyes.

If the soul can speak, it does not do so with tongue, but through eyes, because they cannot lie.

"Sorry." she muttered, flustered, quickly moving away and passing him, picking up a torch from the ground.

She felt herself trembling inside, but she didn't let it show. It had been some time since she last saw Daario and she was no longer used to the feeling of butterflies in her stomach. However, she wasn't going to pay too much attention to it, there was no time for such thoughts, she had other things on her mind.
In fact, they were already in the place they were supposed to reach from the beginning. This space was smaller, but because of that single torch lit it quite well.

"What is this?" turning her attention away, she ran her finger along one of the grooves in the rock, wiping the dust from it. It looked like nothing she had seen before and she didn't know how to interpret the strange paintings before her.

"The Children of the Forest made them." either he wasn't bothered at all, or he's faking it as well as I am. I don't know what would be better.

"They're just a legend." she replied, but her voice was not convinced. And she didn't say a word as he gently grabbed the wrist of her hand in which she held the torch and led her to the wall on the other side. The glow of the flames also illuminated the dusty carvings, but these were of figures: the Children of the Forest and the First Men, together. They fought together against a common enemy.

The White Walkers were carved into the rock in a rather primitive way, but among them she recognized one figure from her dream, before she was kidnapped by the Dothraki.
She remembered his gaze, his cold breath. The anger in his eyes, how he wanted to touch her cheek, but decided against it at the last moment.

Morghon isado kessa obūljagon zȳha ybon - Death itself will bend its knee.
This was the prophecy Melisandre told her. She hadn't paid much attention to her words at the time, but now it made sense to her...
If she knew so many things about her father, her friend, and herself, maybe that was why she took her for the one who was promised.

Prophecies are a dangerous thing, especially when they predict greatness to you.

"Humans have fought the Undead before and won because they fought together." he felt the uncertainty in her voice, so he knew Visenya didn't mean what she said. He finally let go of her wrist too, while saying this.

"Dārilaros bona iksin kivio kessa maghagon se ñāqes." she said before remembering that Robb doesn't speak Valyrian. "The one who was promised will bring the dawn." she translated it this way because she didn't want to give the word 'Dārilaros' any gender. Besides, this sentence was even written in Valyrian, lower down, it also looked better than the other pictures, it must have been written later.

"Dārilos..." he tried to repeat the word after her, just as he had once repeated after Talisa, but he could hear that it didn't work. The girl's smile only confirmed it.

"Dārilaros." she said it again, slower, pointing to the letters on the wall that spelled the word. "You need to emphasize the 'r' more." she added when he repeated her again. "They would understand you." she giggled after the boy's next attempt.

To think that she used to be so afraid of saying something wrong in this language, and now the way she speaks it is a wonderful sound to his ears.

"How did you learn this language? Tywin let you, brought in a teacher?" she hadn't yet heard him ask about her past, or more specifically the part she didn't want to mention. She could have lied and evaded the answer, but she didn't. If they were to be allies, they had to trust each other, and that means honesty.

"I learned on my own, my maid - who was my mother's friend before her death - brought me books in secret. But I heard the pronunciation for the first time only in Essos, before that I only guessed what the words should sound like." she explained.

"Where did the idea to learn it come from?"

"It's my legacy, my mother tongue." she looked again at the word carved on the wall. "Now I think it was also a form of rebellion." she felt pleasure in doing something she certainly wouldn't be allowed to do.

"Maybe I don't know it, but you speak it very nicely." he couldn't bite his tongue, he couldn't hold back the compliment, just like it was with Talisa.

A part of him, that he tried to keep quiet, was glad to have her alone with him. At a moment like this, they were both ordinary people, not someone important. They talked more freely, they didn't analyze their words so much and how they could be interpreted in different ways.

He brought her here so that she could see these drawings and see that he was telling the truth, while he himself went completely off topic and asked about her past and complimented her.
But was it worth it? Was it worth it for the smile on this usually serious face?

"Kirimvose. Thank you." she didn't know why she said it in Valyrian first, she hoped he would try to repeat it after her? She looked at the drawings and then back at him. "They've already been defeated once, and now they'll be again. I will finish the war here and then I will take army to the North. We'll do it together, you have my word."

She could have used the opportunity and told him to bend the knee and that only then she would agree to fight. It would be cruel, but effective. But she wasn't cruel, she didn't play with the lives of people across the continent, because after all, it was at stake in the coming war. They could discuss political matters later, perhaps in the meantime there would be some solution, she would have to be consult about it.

It was obvious that Robb wanted to answer her, he even started to speak, but then she cut him off:

"Do you believe in destiny?" she asked a question that suddenly came to her lips and she couldn't hold it. The more she thought about the prophecy she had heard, about all her dreams and what had happened to her, the more she was sure that she had a big role to play, that Melisandre was not wrong and that she was the Princess that was promised. At the same time, there was also fear. Fear that she is over-interpreting everything, that it will soon turn into an obsession and drag her down, like her father.

That's why she asked. And she got the answer.

Jaime, Bronn and the army were already well on their way to King's Landing, if all went smoothly they should be there in less than a week with what they had managed to grab from Riverrun and on the way. Things were looking good for them, no upcoming battle, it looked like the girl aspiring to become Queen of the Seven Kingdoms was afraid to send people into battle. It's good for them, they will have time to prepare - as much as they can...

Jaime still felt the bitterness of what happened that evening in the gardens. One moment he was kissing her, and the next his body collided with the cold water of the bay. An unpleasant experience. It made him question if he ever knew her at all, for real. A woman he had more affection for than Cersei, and she was toying with him to get what she wanted. Anyway, as it happened before, with that septa...

Right after she escaped, he thought that she had decided to start a new life somewhere else, far from the past and politics, to stay somewhere and decide for herself. But Maegelle - or rather Visenya - had gone much further, she had tried her luck and now she commanded possibly the largest army these lands had ever seen, and she had four dragons. A force that should not be ignored.

Their only chance was that she was not as cruel as they had told the Lords when seeking their support, and would want to keep casualties to a minimum. Because if she throws everything she has into the fight, or even only the dragons... They don't stand a chance. Yeah... It would be shitty to be in their place. But despite this, Cersei refused to give up.

He and Bronn were talking to Dickon when his friend suddenly noticed the sound of hooves in the distance, but still getting closer to them. Something was wrong... Something, or rather someone, was coming over the hill.

"Take shields and spears!" he hurried his horse and started shouting orders to the soldiers. There is no time to rest when danger is approaching them.

"Form a line!" Bronn rode behind him and gave further commands.

The people were surprised at what was happening, but they quickly came to their senses, put on their helmets, took their spears and shields in their hands, and positioned themselves as they were instructed. Archers stood at the back, prepared to support the front-line soldiers if necessary. They had to defend the wagons, the contents of which were increasingly needed in the capital.

From this distance, the approaching attackers were still small dots, but it was already easy to determine who these warriors were. Dothraki.

Only a fool would face the Dothraki in an open field.

"Go back to King's Landing." Bronn told Jaime as he rode up to him on his horse.

"I'm not abandoning my army." replied the Lannister without any hesitation in his voice. After all, she dared to attack openly... Well, yes, she has Varys, and he has spies everywhere, of course she knew where they were and what they were carrying.

"You are a commander, not a damn infantry. Those bastards are about to swamp us!"

"We can hold them off."

They cannot hold them off.

They both looked ahead at the same moment when they heard an inhuman roar for the first time in their lives. They squinted to see what was making the sound, even though they had already guessed what it was.

Dragon. Snow-white, shimmering blue in the sun constantly hiding behind the clouds. It was much faster than the Dothraki, approaching them inexorably, overtaking the ranks of riders. The atmosphere among Jaime's soldiers became even worse and morale was already low, but it was about to get even worse.
From time to time you could see someone sitting on the beast's back.

Well, there was only one person called the Dragon Queen in this world.

"Dracarys!" even this one word she said with a valyrian accent, which was immediately preceded by fire that poured over the soldiers like a flood, creating a hole in the formation, perfect for the approaching Dothraki.

The fire slowly consumed the soldiers in their metal armor, causing real agony and panic among those watching it. The burning ones tried to save themselves, but there was no way, they were already doomed to die in torture, rolling on the ground and trying to throw off their armor.

The Dothraki ran over their bodies, attacking those who stood further away.
In another place, horses impaled themselves on spears while trying to break the formation in another point. Jaime's shouts to hold formation were in vain as the dragon circled and made another attack, this time flying down the line, burning dozens of men before flying back higher. More screaming in pain, more reduced to dust, another hole in the line.

The horses, which had previously been watered at the stopover, were now running around in panic, fleeing as far as possible from the slaughter.
Because it wasn't a battle. There was no hesitation as to who would win and who would fall. Everything was clear to everyone.

Of course, there were losses on both sides, among the Dothraki, for example among those charging in the first line, but these losses were incomparably smaller than Lannister's. Several people attempted to take a few wagons and escape with them, and they were actually on quite a good path. The Dothraki could have chased them, of course, but the dragon did it much faster, punishing them for trying to desert.

First of all, Visenya held tightly to the spikes on the dragon's back and squeezed it with her legs so as not to fall when it flew quickly or when she leaned out. She mainly assessed the situation, only occasionally directing the dragon to break the formation of soldiers. She didn't even know how it was that Maelia knew exactly what she wanted to do, it was always some inexplicable connection, as if they were communicating telepathically. She didn't even have to shout 'Dracarys' all the time.

"Archers!" Jaime exclaimed, trying to improve their situation in any way he could. "Archers, line up!"

One arrow, one well-aimed arrow would be enough to kill her. Of course, it wouldn't end the war, but it would be a big blow to the enemy.
Did he want to kill her? He didn't know, he had very mixed feelings about her.

The archers formed a formation and, as ordered. First drew their arrows, then bent their bows and aimed at the dragon that was turning in the sky and heading towards them. Jaime waited for the moment when the beast would be low enough for the arrows to reach Visenya, but not so close that they would be attacked.

"Loose!"

Arrows flew, forcing Maelia to swerve sharply to protect her mother. The arrows bounced off the scales on the dragon's chest, harming it in no way. Fortunately, none of them flew any further and didn't even have a chance to scratch Visenya. Although she had to hold harder with her legs so as not to fall off the back when it suddenly turned. Fortunately, her tightly tied hair was still in place, and only her clothes flapped in the wind.

She flew on, taking care of the other soldiers. She couldn't see much from this distance, but it seemed to her that Jaime was down there, and the plan was for him to survive and escape.

"There's Qyburn's scorpion over there." Jaime said to Bronn, nodding towards the wagon.

It wasn't a good time to test new things, but there won't be a better time if they don't survive. Maybe it will prove effective and they will be able to knock the beast out of the sky. If they could at least ground it... It all would be just a little bit easier.

"So go." his friend replied.

"I can't shoot with one hand." he waved his golden hand at him.

Bronn really didn't like it, but he had no choice but to take care of it himself. The only consolation is that if he manages to kill the dragon, he will probably go down in history.

In the sky, Visenya performed very well. She saw that there was not much left to do. She couldn't hear anyone giving up, but there must have been voices down there. She's about to stop it all. Just one moment more...

It felt comparable to the moment she watched one of the former Masters burn in the catacombs of the Great Pyramid. It was the same strange fascination, something that wouldn't let her stop. She knew she was killing people, and in a rather cruel way. But they also killed her people. This is what war is all about, fighting, killing enemies, completely dominating your opponent, beating him so badly that he won't get up again. The price she must pay to gain a position from which she can change the world.

She made a large circle in the sky, high up, so she could take in the entire situation. Chaos, flames, but there were no screams or the smell of burning skin from up there. Suddenly something whistled dangerously close to her. She looked behind her for a moment and saw something that looked like a crossbow arrow magnified many times over. It almost hit her in the arm and ripped it apart, or even straight in the chest or head.

That was the moment she first felt threatened during all this carnage. Ordinary arrows didn't impress her, she knew they wouldn't penetrate the dragon's thick skin and scales, so she was safe on its back. But this thing... It was much bigger.
She immediately started looking around to see where the shot came from. She saw what looked like an enlarged version of a crossbow and that's where she headed at Maelia, they had to destroy it.

At the same time, Tyrion watched everything from the hill. He saw how close Visenya was to dying.
It was hard for him to choose sides at the moment. When defending the capital against Stannis it was easier, he was also fighting for his survival, he knew that the chances were equal or even they were in a worse position. Deep down, he also hoped that he would prove himself and gain in his father's eyes. But above all, it was about the fate of the city and all its inhabitants.

Now he was experiencing carnage. Almost everything was burning, the Dothraki were moving around the battlefield on their horses and finishing off the soldiers, especially those who tried to escape. It was his idea, but he didn't say anything about using a dragon.
If one could do so much... What could all four of them do...?

"Come on, you son of a bitch..." Bronn muttered to himself after loading another arrow. The dragon was flying straight at him, this was his opportunity to hit accurately, he fired.

Visenya saw this huge arrow, but she was sure it would miss them this time too. She felt that this was not the case when the dragon jerked violently and she had to press even harder on its back to avoid falling. Luckily, she didn't see Bronn's smug expression, as that would only enraged her more, and she needed to focus on holding herself together.

They spun several times in the air as they fell, the dragon roaring in unexpected pain. She couldn't see where the arrow had hit, but even that thought didn't cross her mind as she focused all her strength on clenching her hands and legs. For a moment she wanted to close her eyes, just waiting for the collision with the ground, but she forced herself to look at the situation - fortunately, they did not hit the ground. Despite the pain, the dragon began to flap its wings again, settling low to the ground in front of the scorpion, which Bronn was no longer nearby. He managed to escape before the flames consumed the weapon.

There was no other choice and Maelia landed. Out of fear, no one approached her anyway, but it was always safer in the air. Visenya slid off her back with a little help and stood on the ground, checking where the arrow had embedded.

"My poor girl..." she said quietly, placing her hand right next to the injured spot. She had to pull it out, she hoped she had the strength to do so. "It's going to hurt a bit." she warned, grabbing the wood. From here it looked more like a spear than an arrow, but even spears weren't that thick and strong.

While Vis tried to pull the arrow from near the dragon's shoulder, Jaime watched from not far away. A few steps away from him, a soldier was lying dead with a spear stuck in his back, he rode up to him and pulled it out.
He wanted to throw it first, it was safer, it would give Visenya less time to react, she was facing the dragon anyway and couldn't see him. But he never threw with his left hand, the chance of him hitting her was small, very small...

Especially since he was about to throw it at her. It was complicated how he felt about her, seeing her for the first time in several years. She's grown up, that's for sure. She was twenty-one, a grown woman. He even saw that she wore black and red, the colors of her house. Until today, he had thought that she had the courage to declare war, but would not provoke a battle, and now he witnessed that she had even taken part in it herself.

He had to do it. If he succeeds, even if he dies, it will still be a big step for them. He must make an attempt - a very stupid one - but perhaps this time he will be lucky. He confidently grabbed the spear and urged his horse to move towards her.

"You idiot... You fucking idiot, flee...!"

Bronn had the same thought as Tyrion. He managed to grab a bow lying on the ground and take an arrow from the fallen soldier's quiver. All he had to do was take aim and shoot, but if he did that, this idiot would die immediately, and he couldn't die until he gave him the promised castle.
So he cursed fiercely again and ran to the nearest stray horse to ride to save Jaime.

Can't this retard see the huge dragon between him and her?

Visenya used all her strength to pull the arrow and didn't worry about anyone attacking her, she treated the sounds around her as normal sounds of battle. Nothing she should worry about.
It was only when she heard the sound of hooves approaching her that the thought occurred to her that this someone might be heading towards her with evil intentions. She released the arrow and turned, reflexively backing away as she saw Jaime charging at her.

So this is how he greets her. Well, maybe his feelings were never real after all.

Literally a second later she couldn't see him anymore because the dragon's head covered her. All she saw was an avalanche of fire and someone jumping at Jaime. He must have made it just in time and they fell into the river - at least that's what she could tell from the loud splash.
She didn't want to check if they were alive. According to the plan, Jaime was to escape...

Without further deliberation, she went back to pulling out the arrow, and after a few tugs she finally managed to pull it out completely. Immediately after that, the dragon moved its head and licked the wound a few times.

At least she learned that they had some weapons against her dragons and that she has to be careful in the future...

"Khalessi, kisha haronn firrado." she turned to one of the two riders who had ridden up to her.

*"My Queen, we have gathered the survivors."*

She moved her gaze to where he was nodding, at the group led by her warriors. The lucky ones, who managed to survive the battle, escaping the dragon fire and the Dothraki until the end of the fight.

The fire slowly died out, and a large part of the meadow was destroyed, covered with bodies or their ashes, parts of the wagons that also did not survive, burned as a result of the fight.

"Anha zin tikh jadat." she replied. "Ker anna jin hrazef."

*"I'm coming. Give me a horse."*

She could have flown there on Maelia, but she could clearly see that she was injured. She didn't want to strain her any more than she had to, and they still had to return to Dragonstone.
She might not weigh enough to make any difference for her, but she didn't want to risk it.

The survivors were gathered at the hill. There were several trees and a few stones on it - including the one on which she stood, and Tyrion took a place on her right. A dragon sat at the very top, consciously choosing this place to intimidate enemy soldiers - as if the mere presence of the Dragon Queen, of whom they had heard so much, on the battlefield was not enough.

All of them had dirty armors and had abandoned their long ago helmets. She saw both young and old among them. There were a lot of them, but compared to everyone she had seen before the battle began...
It really was a slaughter.

She had to speak. In such a way as to at least try to improve her image in their eyes after what happened here. They were afraid of her, it was visible in their eyes. The same fear she had seen many times before. She can't count to gain their love anytime in the future, not after what they witnessed.
She didn't want them to think she was cruel, but did she have any choice at the moment? Victims are everywhere. Olenna told her that no one in Westeros will listen to her unless they are afraid of her. And Tyrion talked about how no monarch can ever count on the love of all his people.

But she won't give up so easily, she will still have the opportunity to show them the better side of herself. The way she wants to be, not the way she has to be, as a means to achieve the ultimate goal.

"I am Visenya Targaryen." she started, raising her voice. Eventually everyone should hear it. "I know what the Lannisters told the Lords, and they passed it on to their people. That I have come here to destroy your cities, burn your homes and kill you, making orphans of your children and widows of your wives. That I'm a mad woman who came to get what she thinks is hers." she paused for a moment to make her next words come out louder. "Only one thing of all this is true: I will take what is rightfully mine, with fire and blood if necessary." another break. "But I don't want it to end like this. I don't want to murder and destroy, that's Cersei Lannister, not me. It was she who destroyed the Sept of Baelor, killing Queen Margaery, and thus contributing to the death of Tommen Baratheon." she used the name everyone knew him by, even though she knew he was a bastard. "This is all she has to offer: starvation, suffering and death. What some of you have known for forever. I propose something else: Bend the knee and swear to me, and I will make the Lannisters pay for all the wrongs they have ever done to anyone. I will end poverty and hunger, I will give not only your children, but also orphans, a better tomorrow. The cities across the sea are proof that I can do this, because the only thing I want to destroy is the wheel that the Great Houses spin, which destroys everyone it comes across." she finished her monologue.

For a moment, no one even moved, some looked at each other and wondered what to do. They were probably counting their chances of survival, after all, she hadn't told them what would happen if they didn't join her. Only when the first person broke down and knelt, the others followed. But still not everyone, just a small part of the crowd.

Well, the next part was convinced by the dragon's roar. A significant part.

But that still wasn't everyone. Some stood, someone even with his heads raised. Apparently he had too much pride or he believed in another queen and said he wouldn't break his word to her. Some of those still standing seemed unfazed by the dragon's roar.

"Please, step forward my Lord." she said to the one standing in front. "What is your name?"

"Lord Randyll Tarly."

"You won't bend the knee?"

"I already have a Queen to whom I swore an oath."

Wrong Queen.

"You also swore an oath to House Tyrell, didn't you? And you broke your word when your Liege Lady allied with me." she noticed.

"Do you really think it's worth fighting and dying for my sister?" Tyrion supported her. "The same one who killed the previous queen? The one that was ridiculed in front of the whole city? Which destroyed the sept? Or are you just saying that because you have ambitions to take the Tyrells' place?"

To her, these arguments seemed enough to change his mind, to avoid the worst. But they didn't seem to appeal to him.

"You can say what you want about her, but at least she knows the country and plays by its cruel rules. You, on the other hand, are a young idealist who thinks she can teach an old dog new tricks. You can not. You'll find out sooner or later." she absolutely didn't like the tone in which he spoke to her, but she didn't show it. She stood with her hands clasped in front of her and just watched, her eyes showing no signs of stress. "I won't fight for a person whose father and grandfather almost destroyed Seven Kingdoms. Everyone remembers them and they don't want a Targaryen here. Especially with a foreign army of savages."

She hated it when someone judged her through the prism of her family. Just as she hated the saying: 'Every time a Targaryen is born, the Gods flip a coin.' What are these stupid words and who came up with them? As if most of her family was mad... As if they were implying that she was crazy too.

"You don't know me, yet you judge me, my Lord." she finally said, quite calmly, although she was already starting to boil inside.

"I just saw what you did."

There was silence. She stared at him, silently considering her options. She can kill him, she even should kill him, after all, everyone is watching. If they see that they can oppose her and not suffer any consequences, they will start doing so too.

She couldn't argue with that, she didn't make good impression. But at least they didn't see her now as a girl to play with as they pleased. They learned that he was someone to be considered, someone dangerous.
She should have learned by now that people accustomed to this world learn not through kindness, but cruelty...

"He could take the black, Your Grace." Tyrion said to her, gaining her attention. "No matter what he believes in, he is a true soldier, and such soldiers are worth their weight in gold in the Night's Watch."

It seemed to make sense. She was about to agree to it, but then Randyll spoke again:

"You can't send me to the Wall, you're not my Queen."

"All right. I can send you somewhere else then." there was a threat in those words, and it was clear to everyone.

"Then you have to kill me too." suddenly someone else came out of the crowd, he was probably standing next to Lord Tarly earlier, she didn't remember. He was much younger, it was probably one of his first battles.

"Step back and shut your mouth!" Randyll shouted at him.

"Who are you?" she has already guessed that they must be close to each other, so they are probably family, and considering the age difference, they are probably father and son, or the man may be his uncle.

"A stupid boy." Randyll muttered.

"I'm Dickon Tarly, he's my father."

"You are the future of your house. This war has already destroyed one Great House, it doesn't have to destroy another. Bend the knee." Tyrion intervened. There was no need, she wasn't going to kill a boy who wanted his father to be proud of him in some twisted way.

"No." this was exactly the answer she expected from him...

"Your Grace, Visenya-" she raised her hand and silenced Tyrion before he could suggest anything to her.

'When the people began to oppose him, he destroyed their towns and castles. He murdered sons in front of their fathers. He burned people alive using wild fire and laughed when they screamed. He was so eager to extinguish resistance that he led to a rebellion that killed almost all the Targaryens.'

'Thank the Gods, you have your father's character.'

She remembered that conversation with ser Barristan about the Mad King. She also recalled every conversation she had with Arthur when she had doubts about the righteousness of her actions.

She had to impose punishment, but she couldn't be cruel. People need to get an example, but not in a cruel way, because sooner or later they will start to rebel.
She is not a monster and will not make the mistakes of the past. She swore to herself that she would fulfill her destiny and fix the world.

"Todo disse foz ato. Mae rizh akka ei fin tat vo kssoro tikh tihk arda." she gave an order to the Dothraki commanders.

*"Take just the elder one. His son and the others who did not kneel chain and they will be thrown into the dungeons."*

Tyrion was just starting to pick up a few words in this language, so he didn't know what was going on. Only after what had happened could he draw any conclusions.

Visenya glanced over her shoulder at Maelia, but then her thoughts took a different turn. No, he didn't deserve to die like that, despite what he told her. She won't burn him alive, it's better to have his head cut off. Fast and smooth.

"Lord Randyll Tarly, I, Visenya of House Targaryen, the First of My Name, Rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Khaleesi of the Dothraki, Queen of the Dragon's Bay, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons, sentence you to die. Do you have any last words?"

She expected her voice to shake, but it didn't. She stood there as if completely unmoved by the fact that she was about to witness another person die on her orders.

"In my last moment I pray that all of Westeros will not end up like Harrenhal."

In that moment she wanted to change her mind and burn him, but she just nodded at the Dothraki soldier. He had previously suggested that she was mad like her grandfather, reckless like her father, and now he was also saying that her great ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror, was no better after what he did to Harrenhal.

During the execution in Meereen, in the square, she could not watch Mossador die. She even flinched when she heard the blade decapitating the boy. Now... She only twitched slightly.

It made her think... Has she changed? Is she changing all the time? Is she slowly becoming cruel or is she still only making necessary decisions? After all, it was her idea to come here on a dragon and take part in the battle.
What is a necessary evil and what is her whim? Should she feel bad after how many people died today on her orders? How many was burned alive, screaming and begging for help?

On the one hand, she becomes indifferent to suffering, and on the other, her heart cries that she does not want to cause so much pain.

Kill or be killed, you either get used to it or your own emotions will eat you up from the inside.