It is done… the beast is under control.
I suggest you leave the capitol immediately, unless you want to become a bony roast.
Euron Greyjoy, King of the Iron Islands
Smiling softly to himself, Qyburn dropped the small slip of parchment into the fireplace behind his desk. Returning to his scribbling orders onto the various dispatches. An order to fully man the scorpions on the northern and western walls. One to lower civilian rations by one third, and to correspondingly double the guards at all the gates to make sure the smallfolk couldn't escape. Execution orders for another hundred rioters and illegal food distributors.
Each received his signature - carrying the weight of the Queen herself. While the rest of the Seven Kingdoms belonged to the Targaryens, King's Landing was still under the rule of Cersei of House Lannister, and Qyburn did his best to carry out her wishes.
At least in most respects, that is.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door. "Lord Hand," called out Ser Arys Oakheart.
"Come in, Ser Oakheart," Qyburn said offhandedly. Kingsguards arriving were a dime a dozen during his days. However, when the door opened in walked Oakheart and Boros Blount, both flanking the door and standing with their hands on the hilt of their swords. Holding position as the thing that used to be Ser Gregor Clegane walked in - carrying Her Grace Cersei Lannister in his massive arms. Qyburn was on his feet in seconds, bowing. "Your Grace, I am of the highest joy that you have recovered from your sleep."
Sour-faced, grimacing in pain with each jolt of the Mountain, Cersei didn't shift her gaze from Qyburn even as her guardian set her down in the chair across from her Hand. "How long was I out for, Qyburn?"
He took a seat once she did. "Two weeks, your Grace. Your condition was… quite serious. It took most of my healing knowledge to keep you alive without resorting to the same means as Ser Gregor."
"I am glad you didn't mutilate me." She didn't sound glad. "Where is my child?"
A sigh left the ex-maester. "A beautiful, healthy boy was born, your Grace. Ser Jaime named him Tywin, after your father." Something flashed in Cersei's eyes. Something resembling… love? Affection? Sentimentality? "However, the child is not here."
The flash left, replaced by the same look of bitter madness in the emerald eyes. "Where is my child, Qyburn!"
"...three for you. Gold shall be their crowns and gold their shrouds…"
The words haunted her, killed her inside. All three of her children - Joffrey, Tommen, Myrcella - dead with golden shrouds. But little Tywin, he was going to be the one. The one to prove that bitch Maggy the Frog wrong…
"Ser Jaime… he gave the child to Daenerys Targaryen."
Already pale, it was as if all the blood had drained from Cersei's face. "Please tell me that Daenerys Targaryen is still in the Black Cells." Her voice was simply… flat. Gaunt. Hollow.
"She escaped to her bastard lover. The same day as the Targaryen forces completely annihilated our army on the south bank of the Dusken River."
There was a terse silence for several moments before a pitched scream shook the entire Red Keep.
"I still can't believe it, Jon." Daenerys snuggled back against him, wiggling her ass into his crotch. Enjoying how he groaned. "I would have sworn she was the traitor."
"She betrayed our oath in the Godswood, but it wasn't malicious." Hand resting on the swell of her stomach, Jon stroked it lovingly. Feeling their babies grow within. They both rested on Rhaegal's warm back, the great dragon curled up in the countryside. Resting after the skirmish. One last moment of calm before they would need to return to their army. "I know she'll need to have a long way to go to earn our trust back."
Dany shrugged. "This is a start." Turning in his arms, she kissed him sweetly. Looking into his eyes. "So we both know what we'll do?"
Jon nodded. "Aye, we do." Kissing her again, it quickly grew heated. The familiar ache burning within. The King surged forward, pushing her onto her back. "I want you, Daenerys."
Checking their connection, Dany could tell Rhaegal was asleep below them. "This is so naughty…" Making love on dragonback, not something she ever thought she'd partake in. "What do you do to me, Aegon…" His breath was so hot on her ear and Daenerys loved it.
"We're blood of the dragon," Jon smirked, one hand fondling her breasts as he licked from her ear to her neck. "I'm sure Aegon the Conqueror had his fun atop Balerion." Thinking of his ancestors, the beautiful Rhaenys and Visenya enjoying their husband from dragonback only spurred on his lust for the delectable Valyrian beauty below him. Sucking on her throbbing pulse, growling like the wolf that he was.
Daenerys could barely think straight. Gods… his mouth… Nipping and sucking and tonguing the smooth column of her neck, Jon's devouring of her quickly transformed the great Mother of Dragons into a swirling cauldron of lust. "Yes, Jon… oh my love…" He attacked her skirts, yanking up the thick ice blue of her dress. Just like at the waterfall.
Her smallclothes were already soaked. One of the benefits of being married to a dragon… they were always so passionate, love turning to anger turning to lust in an instant. Sliding the offending fabric off, Jon counted himself the luckiest man in the world. "I can't wait, Dany." He climbed back to Dany's eyes, catching the sudden intake of breath through her lungs. "I need to be inside you."
"I need you inside me," Dany purred, captivated by the violet eyes. Hands suddenly frantic, attacking his trousers. Pushing them down just enough to free his beautiful cock. Daenerys reveled in his groan when she wrapped her fingers around him. Pumping slowly, teasing him. "Don't leave me waiting, my King."
Growling yet again, Jon pinned her to Rhaegal's scales and sheathed himself with one thrust. Her moans music to his ears, starting a brutal pace. There was time for a gentle lovemaking - this was not one of those times. Their skin slapping together. Moans growing into screams before Jon crashed their lips together. Tongues frantically battling to hold in their noises. Not to wake up Rhaegal.
Fuck… Aegon… fuck! He was so good. So so good. Dany loved him - loved him more than anything. Loved his heart, his soul, his body. All her walls collapsed, just accepting him. Her King. Her husband. Her protector. Her love. And she could see in his eyes that he was the same to her.
They climaxed at the same time, never having broken their eye contact.
Love comes in at the eyes.
A cold wind blew across the floodplain of the Dusken, chilling the assembled Lords, Ladies, and senior knights of the Grand Council. Lord Varys still felt a sweat on his bald forehead. He was nervous, and had good reason to be. Mounted on a pike driven into the ground was a severed head in a northern helm. Mouth open as large gouges had been ripped through the left cheek. Beside it rested the King's direwolf, bathed in crimson blood. That explains the gouges. The highborns around him were largely confused, but some fully knew. Varys included.
Many of those wished to run, but were discouraged by the full assemblage of Unsullied, Dothraki, and Free Folk guards stationed around them. The three forces in the Targaryen Army completely loyal to the King and Queen - thinking them gods among men. None would be bought or swayed. At the front stood only a few. Missandei, Lord Hand Davos, Tormund Giantsbane, Lord Sigorn of Karhold, and Grey Worm.
Oh, this is not going to be good.
Out of the sky screamed Rhaegal. Green form diving by them in a blurr, a whistling crack of the King's Fury causing many to cringe or drop to their knees. What the Golden Company felt. What the Dead would have felt had they been among the living. The fear a dragon could induce was matched by nothing else in the known world.
Rhaegal banked hard, careening in for a hard landing. Slamming into the snowy ground with a poof - its roar bellowing far and wide over the plain. Lowering one wing, off came the King himself, taking the hand of the pregnant Queen gingerly and lovingly. They shared a deep, passionate kiss before making their way to the front of the assemblage. Hand in hand, but with a stern look on their faces. Dark Sister was on Daenerys' hip, while Jon carried both Longclaw and an empty scabbard. Varys didn't hope to determine what that meant.
Reaching the front, standing side by side, it was the Queen that spoke first. "Lords and Ladies, we have recently been informed of a plot on our lives and the life of my son." Rhaegal ambled till he was just behind his mother and father, enraged stare silencing any gasps or whispers that would normally follow such a revelation. "These cowards were waiting south of here with captured scorpions, ready to knock Rhaegal out of the sky as well as myself and the King. However, they failed." She looked to Jon, violet eyes firm.
Jon cleared his throat, looking like a dragonlord in his armor and sigil. "We interrogated the lead knight, a hedge knight from the North by the name of Eckard Snow. He informed us of the traitors, as well as the person he thought was the ringleader." He let a pregnant pause bellow before finally speaking again. "Sansa Stark of Winterfell, step forward!"
The Lady of Winterfell emerged from the crowd. Hair and dress immaculate and head held high. She would not cower or break. "Yes, your Graces?"
Eying Jon skeptically - the tiniest hint of her immense disbelief poking from under her facade - Daenerys nevertheless began. "We have evidence that you have conspired with treasonous factions within our council to assassinate us and place the crown of Westeros on your head."
"Lies!" Edmure Tully raced forward, face red. "You speak lies about my niece!" Two Dothraki bloodriders restrained him.
"Stand back, Lord Tully," Jon bellowed. "Lest you lose your head." The bloodriders shoved him back into place, still angry but quiet. Simply glowering.
"My apologies for my uncle," Sansa said. "Such evidence you have is correct. I have been conspiring to control the throne."
Gasps and incredulous shouts came from the crowd, Daenerys' eyes narrowing. "Anything else, my Lady?" Several pairs of eyes within the Lords and Ladies shifted, trying to find some way to flee.
Smirking, Sansa turned to the crowd. "What these conspirators do not know is that I am loyal to my King and Queen, and that I funnelled information to his Grace." A nod from Jon confirmed her statements. Dany really couldn't believe it - she had been so sure that any treasonous action would originate from Sansa. "A plot masterminded by Lord Varys, with Lord Glover as his paymaster and several Knights of the Reach as his minions."
"An outrage!" yelled the Lord of Deepwood Motte. "The Tully bitch lies!"
Jon, looking at Grey Worm, motioned with his hands. "There will be no trials. The evidence is damning. Seize them."
The crowd parted as the guards charged through. Thunder running it until they seized the names already determined previously - Jon and Daenerys stoic, eyes blazing with anger while Sansa only smirked. Enjoying as Lord Glover and several knights of the Reach began fighting the Unsullied… and getting their asses handed to them as a result
First tossed in front of the monarchs for their sentences were half a dozen knights - many from powerful houses in the Reach. "What do you scum have to say for yourselves?"
The ringleader, a bastard of House Hightower by the name of Lorent Flowers, glared. "There have been enough dragonspawn debasing the gods," he spat.
"Your Graces!" begged Baelor Hightower. "I had no knowledge of this!"
"The evidence seems to exonerate you, Lord Hightower," Daenerys stated. "But make sure you know where your loyalties should lay." The Lord of Oldtown nodded profusely. "As for all of you. Death by hanging shall suffice." She gestured to several gallows. "Grey Worm, make sure their necks do not break."
Grey Worm nodded. "Of course, my Queen."
Jon taking over, he walked to Lord Glover. "Anything to say before I pass sentence?"
"You little shit," hissed Glover, spit flying out of his mouth. "You betrayed everything your brother fought for… fuckin' a southern whore. A Targaryen whore! You weren't his bootlace."
"You're right, my Lord. I wasn't." Jon loved his brother - Robb was a far better man than he, but by the Seven he wasn't going to make Robb's mistakes. "Your family will be nothing but hedge knights. Your lands taken from you and given to the Free Folk rule."
This enraged the now ex-Lord. "Fuck you!"
Taking a glance at Dany, the grin on Jon's face was more frightening than Rhaegal. "As for you, my Lord. The traditional punishment of House Stark for treason… the blood eagle." Glover's jaw dropped, going pale… as did many others. "Tormund, Sigorn. Do it."
"What's the blood eagle?" Missandei asked Davos.
The Onion Knight glanced warily at her. "You really have to see it to believe it."
Lord Glover had been as pompous and arrogant as a Lord of a major keep could be in his dealings with the crown, be it the Northern or Targaryen - Edmure Tully and Wyman Manderly both confirmed it had extended to even dealings with Robb. Ever the image of a powerful, indomitable northern lord, it greatly amused Jon, Daenerys, and Sansa that he ended up crying and screaming like a little bitch as Tormund and Sigorn went to work on carving through his back. Unsullied, Dothraki, and Wildlings forcing the Lords, Ladies, and knights watched the whole thing, especially the traitors already having the nooses tied around their necks.
Both Free Folk chieftains were quite skilled - soon, everything was ready. Eyes burning with the same fury as Rhaegal's, Jon looked at his Hand. The Onion Knight nearly flinched with the pure dragonfire in them, glowing a bright purple. "Davos, do you have it?"
Nodding, Davos reached into his cloak and pulled it out. "From the Golden Company prisoners themselves. It's the one, alright." In his hands was Blackfyre, the sword of the Targaryen Kings of old. Forged in Old Valyria, carried by Aegon the Conqueror and Maegor the Cruel as they killed and dispatched the enemies of House Targaryen. Now, unsheathing the smoky blade from its scabbard and wielding it himself, Jon would continue his ancestor's work.
He passed Tormund and Sigorn, the former nodding with determination while the latter gave a manic grin. Looking once more at Daenerys, fearsome in her blood red cloak and Valyrian-style plate armor, Jon met her fury with his. Took strength in it. Drew resolve from it. Dark smirk forming on his own lips, he walked till he could regard Lord Glover, the once haughty face covered in tears and snot - back chopped up into a bloody mess that exposed his back.
Eyes found Lyanna Mormont. "My Lady. Please…"
Lyanna spat at the condemned Lord. "Winter comes for you, cunt."
"I told you, my Lord. No one would ever threaten to take my Queen from me." Still sobbing from the unbearable pain, Glover slowly looked up to him. Seeing not just a Targaryen Dragonlord, but a King of Winter. The same that had fought the Red Kings and the Andals to a standstill. Hefting the sword of his house, Jon couldn't help but feel the same kinship with the blade as he did with Longclaw. "No man should enjoy what I am about to do, but I think the gods would forgive me this indulgence." Smirk only widening, Jon twirled Blackfyre in his wrist, raising it high before bringing it down hard onto Glover's ribcage.
If Glover thought he knew pain before, each swing of Blackfyre destroyed that notion. His pitched screams filled the air, even hardened Lords and Knights cringing at the splatters of blood. Blackfyre forged to hack through flesh and bone, but each attack upon Glover's ribs required precision. Slowing down the assaults, it took far more time - though Jon savored each swing. Grey Worm personally tossed ice cold water upon Glover's face, keeping him conscious for the whole ordeal.
Bones snapped with each swing. Edric Dayne paled. Tyrion turned away. Edmure Tully puked on the ground. Missandei closed her eyes. But Dany kept her eyes right on the traitor - Sansa as well. Both women victims of the worst abuse, veterans of the greatest atrocities upon the human body. They were desensitized to it - such scared them, but for now they would get satisfaction that the victim deserved it.
After over two minutes, the ribcage was open. Revealing Glover's chest cavity. Motioning to Grey Worm, the Unsullied commander reached in with gloved hands and a look of complete hatred on his face - nothing but contempt for the man that nearly killed his Queen. Helped nearly kill his beloved. Spat on the sacrifice of his friend Marden. Pulling out Glover's lungs and resting them on his shoulders… and damned if it didn't look like an eagle covered in blood, wings folded in.
Jon walked around to Glover's front, smirking one last time at his rival. "Winter came with fire and blood for you, Lord Glover." Not waiting for his eyes to look upon him, Jon brought Blackfyre down upon his head. Severing it. His violet fires looked upon the waiting knights on the block. "Kill them." Each Unsullied kicked the stools away, men collapsing, faces turning purple as the ropes slowly strangled them. Jon suddenly flashed back to killing the men that had betrayed him at Castle Black. He had felt horrible afterwards, while now he simply felt… satisfied.
Am I a monster?
Looking up at Dany, her stomach beginning to swell with their children, he no longer worried. She is my salvation. Together, they would keep their darkness at bay.
Glover dealt with, there was only Varys left. As they had discussed, Jon stepped back beside Daenerys - letting his beloved take the reins on this one. Unable not to smile lovingly at her, Dany leaned up to kiss him. "I love you," she whispered.
"I love you too."
Her smile and light disappeared when glancing back at Varys. Hardened Dragon Queen returning, Rhaegal letting out an enraged snort behind her. "Well, Lord Varys. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
"If you intent to ask for mercy, I wouldn't bother," Sansa commented with a huff. As much as she hated herself for betraying Jon's trust, at least it was out of a misguided form of love. The fact that someone would seek to destroy her brother and goodsister for power's sake disgusted her.
"I don't intend to beg for mercy, Lady Sansa." Varys stayed even, proud and dignified even when condemned. "It wasn't supposed to be this way, my Queen."
Daenerys raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what way was it supposed to be, Lord Varys?"
"The Realm needed a strong ruler, but one who had constraints. Daeron the Good, Aegon the Unlikely. They ruled fairly and wisely, only without the harbinger of death… dragons."
"Their lack of dragons only invited war and rebellion," hissed Jon.
"And dragons nearly destroyed the realm countless times." Varys spoke with the conviction of a zealot. "I did what I could to make sure your dragons were taken." There was no hope left, so why not speak? "That you would win, but without dragons. Such is why I sent the plans for the scorpions from Dorne to King's Landing."
Eyes widening, Dany almost roared with anger. "You betrayed me before I even arrived in Westeros!"
"Tried to save you, and I failed. That is why I… shifted." He looked at Jon.
"Yet another King you fritter to after betraying the last one." Only worms like Glover or Janos Slynt drew more of his hate than connivers like Varys or Littlefinger. "Did you tell Qyburn of Dany's plans to go to Dragonstone."
Varys did not waver. "Yes." Ghost growled and Rhaegal roared. "It was the only way."
Sansa turned to her brother, only to nearly flinch at seeing him so enraged. "It was only when you embraced your Targaryen heritage that he turned to me, your Grace."
Feeling the anger surge within her, Daenerys forced herself to stay collected. Channelling the ice from Jon, her beloved Jon. Letting him ground her. When her eyes opened, the Queen of Westeros was a deathly calm. No flame in her eyes, but a powerful steel. "I promised you, Lord Varys, that I would burn you alive." Stepping forward behind her and Jon, swaying impatiently, Rhaegal growled - smoke puffing from between his bared teeth. "It isn't just Lannisters that collect their debts."
"No, I suppose they aren't." The Spider looked tired. Defeated, but unremorseful. "Lord Tyrion had told me that Jon Snow would temper your worst instincts, but I'm afraid you only stoked his. I weep for the Realm for that fact."
Jon tightened his hands on Longclaw and Blackfyre. Wanting to rend him apart as he did to Lord Glover. "You know nothing about me, Varys. If you had your way you'd have had me have a hand in destroying the one I love. The only one who I could ever hope to bring spring to this land with."
A look of amusement appeared on the eunuch's face. Mocking the two monarchs. "Perhaps without the monsters, that would be true." He gazed up at Rhaegal, then back to Daenerys. "Those beasts will enslave you to their evil, my Queen."
Daenerys matched his gaze with her steel. "A dragon is no slave, Lord Varys."
Nodding, Varys sighed. "Perhaps it is us that are the slaves." The road ended for him, nowhere else to go, he just wanted to rest. "Best get on with it, then."
Narrowing her eyes, Daenerys looked up at Rhaegal. "I, Daenerys of House Targaryen, First of my Name. Queen of the Andals, Rhoynar, and First Men, co-Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, sentence thee to die."
The King's voice was just as firm, if not as controlling of his anger. "I, Aegon of House Targaryen, Sixth of my Name. King of the Andals, Rhoynar, and First Men, co-Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, sentence thee to die."
"Dracarys." They said together, Rhaegal obeying his kepa and muna with maw igniting.
The gout of flame enveloped Varys completely, not even a scream managing to leave his throat before the searing inferno did its work. Unlike with the drawn out torture of Lord Glover, each Lord and Lady watched. Some grim, some nauseated, some nodding with approval, while most just watched. Accepting the new order. Standing tall, Jon found his wife's hand. Squeezing it, letting her know of his love. She squeezed back - even when fire and blood became necessary, their love was still strong.
In an instant it was over. Lord Varys nothing but a blackened stain on the ground. "Let it be known," Daenerys proclaimed, her voice booming. "House Targaryen is merciful, but pays its debts with fire and blood."
There was silence. A tense and uncomfortable silence, but after a time that felt like hours it was Sansa that broke it. "Hail the King and Queen." Without hesitation, she bent the knee to Jon and Daenerys. "Long may they reign."
Davos was next. "Long may they reign."
Soon, it was every Lord and Lady of Westeros present that knelt to the Targaryen monarchs. "Long may they reign."