She had waited for Christer Renel where she had said she would, in the royal chambers. She had thought that when she finally entered the Red Keep again, she would claim the Iron Throne... That this place would be her home, that she would feel something, anything.

But this was not her home, the Iron Throne was not hers. The city she looked upon from the great balcony was not hers. Not while her enemies still lived.

"Cersei has escaped, with the Greyjoy fleet, with what army she had left, even her servants, and that means she intends to return." she said, not even glancing over her shoulder at ser Arthur. She stood with her hands rested on the stone railing, until she slammed them against it in frustration. "And she will not do that until she can challenge me. When I have a moment of weakness, or she gathers an army and creates a weapon able to kill my dragons. It looks like I have won, but I feel everything crumbling in my hands."

She had similar feelings in Meereen, when the city was slowly killing itself, and none of her efforts were working. Even though the situation was different then, because there were two groups of citizens fighting each other - plus the Sons of the Harpy - and nothing like that was happening here, the result could have been the same. They would tear the city from each other's hands until one finally won, but would there be anything left of the city?

She had managed to save Meereen, from what she knew from Daario's letters, the city was doing very well, prospering. In addition, her wish to free the people in Lys and Volantis was also slowly coming true.

When everything will be over here, she would have to fly there, see how Essos is doing, how Daario is doing. Unfortunately, for now, nothing like that was even on the horizon.
Frustrating.
She missed those people, how they looked at her, how they treated her. She felt needed, she felt that her actions made sense, and not... that everyone was just trying to fight her and grab as much as they could.

"I doubt people will welcome her back with open arms." Arthur said, trying to comfort her somehow, or even calm her down? He could see how tense she was, all nervous that nothing was going her way. It wasn't the first time this had happened, but each time it did it seemed to be more and more frustrating.

"So she'll force her way in, when I'm not here to do anything about it." she replied skeptically, tapping the barrier with her fingers until Arthur stood next to her and could see this gesture of nervousness and impatience.

"She lost, now she's just postponing her final fall. Even when you didn't have the throne yet, the continent was already united under you." Of course, he was aware that the fighting wasn't over yet, but at the same time he was convinced that it wouldn't be long. If Cersei dares to return to the country at all.

Out of hatred for her, not out of love for me - she wanted to say, but she held back that unpleasant thought. Especially since she was chased by another one, which she decided to share:

"Not whole." she wouldn't have looked at him if she hadn't heard a muffled snort of laughter at her words. She frowned. "What?"

The amused smile - which he tried to cover with his hand until he saw that it was too late - said enough. They both knew what part of the continent she meant when she said that. And she didn't like his smile at all, and even more so when he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively after a moment.

"I-" she stopped, feeling her cheeks burning. She quickly turned her face the other way to hide it.

She was embarrassed not so much by Arthur's clear suggestion, but by the fact that he must have noticed in her behavior that she was not indifferent to this specific person. For her, these were only small gestures, furtive glances, at most single words that could be interpreted in too many ways to talk about unmasking feelings. Besides, she herself did not even feel as if some great love burned in her heart. That's it, she liked to look at him, talk to him, based on what she knew she considered him a good person...

She omitted one thing, which did not escape Arthur's attention: That these furtive glances and small gestures were mutual. She could not see everything, after all she did not have eyes in the back of her head to see Robb looking after her, sometimes until she disappeared from his sight - and by the way, sometimes she did the same. Apart from that, she did not even react much to what she could easily notice. She kept telling herself that it was only her imagination, that she was definitely delusional and she added deeper feelings to the gestures of an ordinary, friendly relationship.

With Daario she had no problems determining that he was looking and behaving towards her in a specific way.
Like with Jaime, it didn't take her long to figure it out.

But there was one thing that connected the situation with these two men: She didn't love either of them.

Finally, Visenya cleared her throat and found the words that would go through her throat without admitting something she wasn't convinced of herself.

"I was supposed to make alliances, yes, I even told Daario that: 'If I want to rule Westeros, I must make alliances. And we all know that the best way to do that is through marriage.' I don't think I ever told you what he told me..." she bit her lower lip for a moment, remembering those words herself. "'You are the Queen, not a prize for the highest bidder.'" those words had been running through her head relatively often lately, especially since she had received a letter from him... Of course, it was mostly a love letter, because what else could she expect from him? He remained faithful to her, he followed her orders, but at the same time he loved her as much as ever, even though she had left him. It still hurt her. She wondered if it was a good decision, after all, maybe if she had taken him with her, she wouldn't have turned to- "I thought I'd marry Loras and thus win over the Reach, but he's dead. His sister too. The Tyrells will die with Olenna. I don't have many candidates left, do I? Robin Arryn?" she grimaced. "He's a child."

Finally, she turned her gaze back to ser Arthur. He no longer had that smirk that made her blush and feel stressed, but his gaze was still the same: 'I know.'

And the fact that he knew all this simultaneously stressed her, embarrassed her and... lifted a certain weight from her heart, that all her feelings weren't suffocating inside her.

"I see how you look at me." she wrinkled her nose, grimacing at him and taking on a slightly sarcastic tone, as if to give this conversation a lighter tone. "I'd like to... I want to prove that I can rule on my own, that I don't need any man by my side, because then everyone will use him to question my rule. But I'm afraid that I'll have to prove my worth for the rest of my life, which wouldn't happen if I hadn't been born a woman... But then I'd be dead long ago." she laughed, but there was no amusement in it. Oh well, she wanted a more cheerful tone of conversation, and she had just killed it herself. "Do you think that... I can really change the world? Because I'm slowly starting to doubt it myself..." she confessed, fighting the overwhelming urge to lower her gaze.

"Yes." He smiled warmly at her, coming closer and putting his hand on her shoulder. "You'll raise a new generation, according to new rules, and for them, what is currently hard for some to accept will be completely normal."

She realized that breaking the wheel she had once discussed with Tyrion would be more like letting it fall apart under the influence of the passing time than by her actions. All she could do was try to slow it down enough to finally stop - but not with one powerful one at the top crushing the others, but to let it fall to the ground and finally break apart.

She was about to respond, but she heard the doors to the chambers open and someone enter. She dropped the subject and left the balcony, ser Arthur right behind her.

"My Queen." greeted her the man she had only seen twice in her life, and she owed him so much. "It is an honor to meet you, Your Grace."

"It is my pleasure. I have never been able to thank you properly. If it were not for you, I wouldn't be here." she smiled gently, even though looking at him reminded her of Selaria.

She hoped that wherever she was now, she was happy and not in pain.

"My Queen... Can we talk in private?" he asked quietly, stepping a little closer but still keeping his distance.

She glanced over her shoulder and motioned for ser Arthur to leave them alone. She saw no reason to fear Christer. After all, if it weren't for him, her 'great journey' would never have even begun. He had no reason to hurt her now. Even if Selaria had always been reluctant to talk about him, she didn't feel threatened in his company.

"What is it? Do you have any problems? How can I help?" she asked. She wished she could repay him for his help all those years ago, but she couldn't think of anything. He didn't seem like the kind of man who would simply want gold in exchange for his 'services'.

"Truth be told, I've been dying to see you, Your Majesty. Who you really are, since you've managed to shed the disguise you wore to survive after all these years." he surprised her with these words, but she did not comment on it in any way, except to raise her eyebrows slightly. "You have changed, my Queen, only for the better, of course. You are as beautiful as your dragons, especially the one you managed to hatch in your old chamber in this Keep."

If his previous statement had surprised her, this one left her dumbfounded. How... How did he know? She had only spoken to ser Arthur and Missandei about where Maelia came from. Selaria certainly could not tell him, it was their secret. But it was the only possibility...

She didn't know much about her old servant's mysterious brother. She had no idea, for example, that he was the one who had indirectly given her the dragon egg.

"Thank you." she replied after a moment, catching herself at being silent for a bit too long.

She remembered how, when she had given him a letter to send to ser Barristan, he had told her something like... That this would be his last help? What had he done before? Who was he for real?

Maybe she shouldn't feel so comfortable around him, even though he was kind to her?

"Wine?" she suggested, wanting to ease the atmosphere that - at least in her opinion - had suddenly become thick.

"Thank you, I don't drink. Wine dulls the senses." he politely declined, smiling gently the whole time, as if kindly, but she felt uneasy looking at this smile. "I don't want to take up your precious time, especially since you'd probably rather spend it with someone else. I beg you for a moment, though, because I want to give you some advice - even though you've heard the best one from Lady Tyrell."

"Yes?" she wasn't happy that he had refused her, then she would have an excuse to go somewhere and relieve some of the tension that had already gathered inside her. And now... she had to stand. She kept her hands clasped in front of her and tried not to think about all the questions that came to her mind when she thought about Christer.

She wasn't even sure if she wanted to hear this advice.

"You have so much power that you can't trust anyone. Anyone." he repeated, emphasizing his words. At that moment, the smile disappeared from his face and he took another step towards her, crossing the boundary of the appropriate distance. Fortunately, she had dealt with many people before and it didn't make her retreat in fear. "People are selfish, they will betray you at the slightest stumble, even for a small reward or even out of won't even have time to look away and the crowd will already turn against you." she felt him push something into her hands, a piece of paper, but for now she didn't take her eyes off his face.

Then he took not one, but two steps back.

She wanted to end this meeting quickly. She had already forgotten how strange she felt when she talked to him in the sept long ago.

She even forgot that she wanted to ask him how he managed to survive the sept explosion, where he had taken refuge? He wasn't there? Wasn't he hiding as a septon anymore? Where was he then? What did he do? Why did he have to hide at all? Even Selaria had never told her that. Just like years ago, after meeting him she had more questions than answers.

The only thing that was going through her mind was his 'advice' and that piece of paper he had pressed into her hands.

"Thank you for everything, my Lord." she finally said that polite formula that was tantamount to ending the conversation and asking him to leave the chamber.

"I am not a Lord, Your Grace. I am only a loyal servant of the Princess who was promised." he smiled and bowed deeply, still in this bow he left the chamber.

As soon as the door closed, she immediately took a deep breath, she seemed to hold it in since the moment this conversation went in a strange direction.
She almost immediately went to pour herself some wine, she needed a whole glass to somehow digest this.

I can't explain it, but something about him almost made my breath catch in my throat.

'If you ever come back here and need help, ask Christer Renel - that's my brother's name. He saved your life and if necessary, I trust he will guide you to your goal.' that's what she told me, before she ran away and we never saw each other again. A few years have passed, and I still don't know what to think about it, especially after this meeting...

She needed to catch her breath somewhere outside the Red Keep. She also didn't feel like talking about this conversation, so she quickly left, announcing that she was going to the Dragonpit - well, its ruins, and she wasn't walking on foot, but riding a horse. At first she wanted to fly, but she remembered that she shouldn't strain Maelia yet - no matter how strange it sounded in the context of a beast many times larger and heavier than her.

Even when she was already there, she didn't open the letter she had received from Christer. It was small, she unfastened a few hooks from the top of her outfit and hid it between her breasts so as not to lose it, in case she decided to open it after all. Okay, she saw a piece, but really not much, because only the initials: P.B.

She didn't think about who it could be, many people could have such initials, she might not even know them. She hadn't been here for a few years, a lot could have changed, and she didn't want to bother Varys with something like that - although he would probably know or find out somehow.

The Dragonpit was truly a ruin. It was slowly falling apart, but Visenya didn't even feel sad looking at it. It was a place that had played a big role in the demise of dragons. Walking around it, you could even see bones and skulls still lying around. They were small. Looking at her dragons, no one would say that the bones found in the Dragonpit actually belonged to a beast, rather a cat or a dog.

She crouched down and picked up one of the smaller skulls. It almost fit in her hand. It was the size of some of her dragons' fangs. Smaller than their claws. It was hard to wrap her head around how her ancestors had wasted these beautiful creatures that she loved with all her heart.

She raised her eyes and looked at the sky. The four of them circled the sky above the city, but not far from the Dragonpit, as if guarding her. She smiled to herself at the thought.

She didn't believe in any Gods, but at that moment she begged that they would watch over them, protect them from any harm. Then she laughed quietly to herself, because it was kind of funny to ask for protection for fire-breathing, flying beasts, as if they needed it.

"I haven't said anything yet and I've already amused you, Your Grace?" she glanced over her shoulder and saw Robb.

She thought he probably had some urgent business to speak about with her, and it soured her mood a little, but when she was quiet for a moment to let him tell her what it was, he didn't say anything.

"No, I just thought..." she began after a moment of silence, looking back at the sky. "...that it's a bit funny that I worry about dragons. Did something happen?" she added quickly, not wanting to dwell on the subject any longer, because she thought he wasn't interested.

"Ser Davos wanted to see the Dragonpit, and I decided to accompany him, and I noticed you were here, Your Grace. Nothing more." a lie. Ser Davos wasn't here, he came alone because he wanted to see her. All the way there he thought he'd come up with some excuse to talk, or at least understand himself why he wanted to see her.

But no. And here he was, standing in front of her and not knowing what to say.

"You can call me by my name when we're alone, you know?" she had taken a bold step towards a closer relationship shortly after hearing that she couldn't trust anyone. She even smiled.

Not many people she told to call her by her name. Missandei, ser Arthur, Grey Worm, Daario - she let them, but they more often called her by her title out of habit or the desire to show her respect regardless of the circumstances. Sometimes Tyrion allowed himself to do so, but on the other hand, she had never told him that he could do that. But Tyrion was Tyrion.

Until someone addressed her only by her first name, she hadn't realized how much she needed it. It gave a sense of closeness, gave a certain intimacy to the conversation. It was no longer a distant conversation with a ruler, but simple chit-chat with a friend. She felt more at ease then, even though she was already used to hearing 'Your Grace' much more often than 'Visenya'. At first, she had troubles with it, and laughed to herself that her name had changed to 'Your Grace Targaryen'.

"So you must also call me by my name in private." she nodded. "So what are you doing here, Visenya."

I like the way he says my name. I wonder how the diminutive would sound in his mouth.

"I guess... I'm thinking." she replied, closing the distance between them. She stopped at the wall he was standing next to and leaned her back against it. She looked down at the skull she had been holding in her hands the whole time, before she held it out to him. "Zaldrizes buzdari iksos daor. A dragon is not a slave. And my ancestors locked them up here." when he took the skull from her, she turned her head and looked around the place.

She didn't know why she suddenly recalled that sentence in Valyrian. Using it in Westeros didn't make much sense, because few people knew it. Maybe this way she felt closer to her family? The dragons themselves? After all, they come from Old Valyria, where this supposedly perfect language also comes from.

No matter what the reason was, Robb liked listening to Visenya speak this language. Besides, he had already thought about it in the cave on Dragonstone, his opinion hadn't changed since then.

"I'm sure they had their reasons." he replied, sensing the sad tone in her voice.

"This place was the beginning of the end of my family." she cast a brief glance at the dragons in the sky. They were currently playing, pushing each other. "Terrifying, but extraordinary. They made us special too. And they locked their family symbol here, until it finally languished away and... You see for yourself." she pointed to the skull in his hands. "Dragons languished and they with them."

"But we can admire them as they were in their glory days. Thanks to you." he took a step towards her, but his crossing of the boundary of the respectful distance did not bother her, she did not feel uncomfortable, quite the opposite.

She wanted to say that it was not thanks to her, but especially her aunt, but she bit her tongue. The memory was still painful for her and she felt guilty, even though she had moved on and treated all four of them as her children.

Without them we were not exceptional, we distanced ourselves from the Gods and came closer to people - she wanted to add, but she felt that she was already complaining about it too much. No matter what she did, she would not change history.

Maybe there will be more dragons than the four that there are now. After all, she still has three eggs, maybe Maelia will lay even more?

"I'm afraid it won't be for long. Without someone of dragon blood to ride them, to take care of them... They will become savage. But I will try to make sure that they do not hurt anyone, even when I am no longer in this world."

She really spoke of them as her children, they were her children, he could see that now. The way she looked at them, the way she spoke of them, the dragons were close to her like family. He had been skeptical about it before, but finally he noticed this... something, this spark in her eye, also the smile dancing on her lips.

"You're an extraordinary woman, you know that?" he said, placing the skull on one of the stones, but not looking away from her. She really was... Different, in a very positive sense of the word. Like no one he'd ever met. He'd compared her to Talisa before, but... Visenya was something even more, just as good and unyielding, but much more ambitious. "You certainly won't be the last of your line."

He knew Talisa's story very well. She had a very good childhood, and what changed her life was the moment when a slave saved her younger brother's life. That was when she decided not to waste her life on balls and things like that, but to save people.

As for Visenya, her past was more complicated. He didn't know her very well, and certainly not from her own stories. Most of it was what Maester had once told him, or what he'd heard about her accomplishments across the sea from others. What Visenya had told him when they first met, when they weren't friends yet, were also pretty well-known facts: what had happened to her parents and siblings, where she'd grown up, how she'd escaped, freed the people of Slaver's Bay, brought the Dothraki, the Unsullied, and the Dragons to Westeros. There were certainly many things he didn't know about her. Good and bad, happy and sad.

But it was obvious that she had been through much more than his tragically deceased beloved, and yet she still had the strength to fight, to move on.

In that, they resembled each other. Two people broken by life, who thanks to others got back on their feet and decided not to give up until they won.

"I don't know..." she said, sighing at the end.

He wanted to press, to ask what she meant by 'I don't know'. Doesn't she want to have children? So who is supposed to inherit the throne from her? After all, she can't leave it to the dragons, no matter that they were her children in this... let's say, peculiar way.

But seeing her face, he decided not to pursue the subject. If she wanted to, she would open up on her own.

Besides, he couldn't expect her to talk about herself all the time, while he kept silent about his past and traumas.

"I thought my life ended in the Twins, when the Freys killed- slaughtered my men, bannermen, mother and wife, like they were pigs for slaughter. I regretted that they hadn't killed also me, I regretted every day that I had managed to escape." he confessed what still weighed on him and would for the rest of his life. He would never forget that evening, but he was slowly learning to live with these memories.

"I heard that... She was pregnant." she said softly, so much so that it was strange in his eyes, as someone who didn't know her as well as Missandei, for example. He wasn't used to experiencing this... so very gentle, too good for this horrible world, side of her personality.

He nodded, looking down and biting his lower lip slightly. Then he felt Visenya grab his hand and squeeze it lightly. She had already held his hand several times, as she had said that she would not build a new world using the values of the old one, as when she had placed his hand on Viserion's head.

"It seems that we were not meant to be." he finally said, swallowing the tears that had begun to gather in him. "I believe that wherever she is now, she is better off. My parents and brother too... All those who died and were close to me."

"Many people who serve you will die, but it will be their choice: to follow and protect you, even at the cost of their own lives. You cannot blame yourself for that. That is more or less what the first person I lost and could not easily recover from it told me." she opened up, finally remembering Selaria aloud. At the same time, she finally buried her in her heart, fully accepting that she would never see her again, that she was dead, but with that assumption she could at least take comfort in the same way as Robb did. It was so... Painful, but at the same time comfortable. "I didn't see it then, but now-"

"You see the purpose?" saying that, he looked at her, as if she could be the goal in herself. "In all that you do?" he finished for her, returning the squeeze of hands at the sight of her gentle smile.

"Yes, exactly." silence fell between them, but they were still holding hands. Until Vis gathered the courage to ask one more question. "If I may... What happened between you and Theon?"

He should have expected such a question from her, since she had seen him tugging at his former friend by the shirt on Dragonstone and was on the verge of beating him. He would have done it if he hadn't saved Sansa. That was the only thing that stopped him.

"He betrayed me when I was at war. He took my home, burned two children so he could call them my brothers, so people would believe. Supposedly he paid dearly for all when he was tortured by Ramsay Bolton, but... It'll be hard for me to ever forgive him, even considering he saved my sister from that psychopath." he shook his head, remembering those very distant times and how much his life had changed since then. He would never have predicted this. "I thought we were like brothers, and yet he betrayed me."

"I believe in second chances." she replied, stepping a little closer to reach out and grab his other hand. "Well, sometimes." she added quickly, wincing slightly. "It happened in Slaver's Bay, I gave them a second chance, and some of them still did their best to kill me. I thought, what did I do wrong? I didn't take their fortunes, they still wallowed in luxury, but some people just... don't change.

"And never have enough. But look where they end up."

She smiled. Their hand hold had changed slightly, now Robb was holding her hands as if he were about to raise them to his lips and kiss them, but instead he was stroking the backs of them and the knuckles with his thumb.

"Tomorrow we leave King's Landing. We will stop briefly at Harrenhal, where my allies will join us, and I will take them all to the North. As I promised, we will face the Night King, together." her heart beat faster not only at the thought of the slowly but surely approaching war with literal death, but also at the realization of how close they were standing.

Saying they would do it together sounded more like they were going to stand against everything not as two rulers with armies under their command but just... as them.
She felt a bit like in that dream in which she had danced with him. She still didn't know if he had experienced the same dream, or was it... Or was it him that had the necklace she hadn't found yet?

For a moment she thought he would actually lift her hands to his lips and kiss the backs of them - heck, even Robb himself was really going to do it for a moment, but he came to his senses and just squeezed them tighter before letting them go.

"Then it would be best to start preparing the departure. Your Grace." he bowed his head for a moment before leaving.

With those two words he had built up distance between them again, and for some reason it hurt her a lot.

He had only done it because he wasn't sure if he was ready to move forward in this area of his life, and if she wanted it. He couldn't trust what he saw in her eyes for a very simple reason - he didn't even looked into them. Because it turns out that you can drown not only in those silver curls, but also in eyes as purple as amethysts.

But it's worth noting that this distance hurt him as much as it hurt her.