The Crow's Eye was late. If he stayed away much longer it would be too late.

"That cursed pirate should know better than to make us wait," Aegon grumbled in the council meeting. "We are King and Queen, and he has tried our patience enough as it is,"

Queen Regent, nephew - if you truly are of my blood at all.

"You forget that he's a King too," Dany said, though truth be told she was weary of Euron Greyjoy's antics too. He had left a week ago to some mystery location, promising to be back in time to greet them alongside Aegon and Dany. They were due to receive the envoys from the Iron Throne any day now, and the man had not returned.

"The petty King of a sorry set of barren islands, which produce rapers, reavers and thieves but not much else," Aegon scoffed.

Again, true, but Greyjoy was more than that and they both knew it.

"He has Viserion," She replied, the words bitter in her mouth. "He can do whatever he pleases,"

Dany had felt a multitude of emotions upon landing on Dragonstone for the first time, her house's ancestral seat, and before that the westernmost outpost of the Valyrian Freehold. She felt triumph, relief, satisfaction, sadness for the family she never knew, grief for all they had lost, and determination, to bring House Targaryen back to its rightful place as rulers of the Seven Kingdoms.

That had all been quickly overshadowed, however.

Whilst she rode Drogon above the fleet, both Rhaegal and Viserion had flown on ahead, attracted by the volcano that still existed on the island. To her surprise, whilst his brother made for the highest peak of the island, Viserion had landed on the cliffs beside what looked like from dragonback the tiny figure of a man. Instead of flaming this man or eating him whole, the dragon had lain down like a tame dog and allowed him to lay a hand on his snout.

She had rarely known horror such as that in her entire life. Nor such rage. Fury burned through her veins and gripped her stomach tight, as Dany watched one of her dragons be mounted as tamely as a plow-horse by this stranger.

Even Aegon could not ride any of them, he who claimed to be (and believed himself) the son of Rhaegar. He had tried, once, but Rhaegal had spat a torrent of blistering flame at the spot he had been in moments before Lord Connington snatched him out of the way. Everyone was wary of her children, after what happened to the Dornish Prince.

Dany would be lying if she said she was sorry that her supposed nephew had not claimed one of her dragons, even though he was resentful of the fact. For whilst it would no doubt be helpful in battle having more than one that could be controlled, her true power came from her ability to ride Drogon. Although, her army was much larger than Aegon's, seeing as there had not yet been word from Dorne. He had the Golden Company, as well as the other sellsword bands they had picked up, though they were fickle and would go to the highest bidder. She had the Unsullied, her freedmen and the Dothraki who followed her after her display of power in the Dothraki Sea, after her dramatic exit from Daznak's pit on Drogon's back.

The Greyjoys were harder to place, as they technically fought for both of them. Though since Victarion had sailed across the world with the Iron Fleet to find her, she supposed they were hers if push came to shove. The Ironmen loved displays of power, besides, and what was more powerful than a dragon?

But Aegon's claim was better than her own, and that was dangerous. She refused to be relegated to a meek and obedient Queen who acted as an arm-decoration whilst her husband played ruler. Drogon kept her from being so.

So that was why, when Dany had seen Viserion spread his wings and roar before taking flight, a stranger clinging to his back, she panicked.

She had urged Drogon forward to meet the swiftly rising white dragon. Though her mount was considerably more obedient now than when he had taken her flying off across the Dothraki Sea and refused to listen to her at all, she could still only ask rather than tell him to do things, and he would not do anything he didn't choose himself. In this, however, their minds were united and there was no question of where they were going.

For one heart-stopping second, she thought her dragon wasn't going to stop and they would go barrelling into Viserion and his mystery rider, sending both of them crashing into the sea below. And part of her - the part that had rejoiced in seeing the crucified slavers in Meereen, the part that had screamed with joy when Drogon had flamed Kraznys mo Nakloz and Khal Jhaqo and his bloodriders, the part that had loved Daario for all his danger and ruthless brutality - would not have minded.

But Drogon stopped a short distance away, pulled his head back and spewed out a torrent of blistering flame, aimed at the man on his brother's back. The roaring inferno seemed to last forever, and Dany could feel the heat from where she sat, hot even for her high tolerance, and revelled in it. Viserion of course would not be harmed - fire could not kill a dragon - but as for whoever dared to mount her dragon, they would pay by fire and blood.

The heat and fury of the battle outside Meereen came back to her then. The screams of the Yunkai'i as Drogon raked through their legions with the same fire, the satisfaction of defeating the foe she had struggled against for months in mere seconds, her enemies tripping over themselves to surrender and kneel before her in chains.

Quaithe's words to her on the Dothraki Sea were at the forefront of her mind. Remember who you are, Daenerys. The dragons know. Do you? Whilst she normally tried to suppress that disturbing side of her, and would no doubt be ashamed later, in that moment, Dany knew exactly who she was, even as Drogon's flames abated. She was the blood of the dragon, a conqueror, a Targaryen Queen -

The man wasn't dead.

She realised that when what she had taken for a scorched shell suddenly moved, raising a gauntleted hand to his face as though examining it. It was only then that she took note of his armour. Dark, scaled, as easy to wear as silk, with smoky patterns and the distinctive ripples of Valyrian steel.

Surely not.

But what else could repel dragon fire? A Valyrian steel sword was worth a King's ransom; a full suit of armour must be worth his entire kingdom. So rare that she had never heard of such a thing before. Who was this man?

She had no time to do anything but gawp however, before the thief - perhaps unwisely - pulled off the helmet to reveal that he was grinning.

Still speechless, she stared at the man who had stolen her dragon and survived Drogon's flame.

He was surprisingly handsome. Pale, tall and lean, with black hair, a black beard, and a patch over his left eye. His right eye was blue, and oddly enough so were his lips; she recognised the blue tinge from Qarth, where the warlocks drank shade-of-the-evening by the bottle and it stained their lips. Handsome may have been her first thought, but dangerous quickly followed.

"Good day, your Grace," He greeted her with a wide, deranged smile, glancing down at the ships below. "A beautiful sight, seeing my fleet from an angle I'd only dreamed of,"

"Crow's-eye," She breathed, understanding now. This was the brother Victarion spat at the mention of, the King of the Iron Isles, who had sent the Iron Fleet halfway round the world to find the dragon queen to ally themselves to.

"So my little brother did tell you of me," He smirked. "I wasn't sure he would. He's said nothing good, I'd imagine,"

But Dany wasn't in the mood to make idle conversation.

"How have you done this?" She demanded, to cover her fear. "How did you survive the fire? How has Viserion not killed you?"

"A suit of Valyrian steel," Euron Greyjoy said it carelessly, though his smug expression - like a cat who'd cornered a mouse - betrayed otherwise. "Though I wasn't sure how well it protected from dragon fire until now, so my thanks for testing that so soon. And as for the dragon... did Victarion not show you my gift?" He raised an eyebrow, amused.

"The horn? But that - he tried it, it didn't work, it only killed the slave he had blow into it,"

She had been angry indeed during her first meeting Victarion Greyjoy, when he had tried to steal one of her dragons using a supposedly magic horn forged in Valyria that bound dragons to its owner. She had had to forgive him in time, as they needed the Iron Fleet to get them to Westeros and he seemed more resentful of his brother than of her, though had not forgotten.

"It worked," All trace of amusement was abruptly gone, that deranged glint growing in his one visible eye. "Just not for him - he was never the owner. That horn was forged in Valyria using blood magic, and one must pay the iron price to own it,"

"The iron price? You mean - "

"They all think I went to Valyria," He scoffed. "I travelled far further than that, to Asshai-by-the-Shadow. I wrenched that horn from the dead arms of its previous master, his blood on my sword, and it became mine. As does the dragon it calls," He smiled at her horrified silence. "Do not worry, Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen. I come as a friend," Why did that sound so awfully mocking? "Surely it can only be a good thing to have two dragons you can control? I'd try for three, but the horn only seems to bind one,"

"You've bound my child with blood magic," Her voice was low. "Twisted him so he doesn't know his own mind,"

"How do you think the Valyrians first claimed their dragons?" He asked, unconcerned. "I learned much in Asshai. It's only since Valyrian mages wove the magic into the blood of the dragonlords that these horns and rituals became obsolete - that explains a lot of the incest in your family,. They really had to keep the blood pure," He laughed. "I had hoped to marry you myself, though I see the whelp claiming to be your nephew beat me to it,"

"I thought Victarion - " She broke off.

Of course, the brothers hated each other, why would Victarion bring her back for Euron when he could have her himself? Neither of them would have her at all, of course. She had stared at Victarion incredulously when he proposed his offer back in Meereen, and though there had been plenty of grumbling when she refused - she was dealing with the arrival of Aegon at the time, and even then knew she would have to marry the boy to tie their claims together - he could do little in protest seeing as she had agreed to come back to Westeros with him.

And she had three dragons, which were convincing in scaring off unwanted marriage proposals.

Euron had said nothing, eyeing her with a quirked smile. Absurdly she was reminded of Daario, who she had left behind with his sellsword company in Slaver's Bay. Though his man was infinitely more dangerous than Daario could ever be, she knew already. He was seated on Viserion for a start.

The thought came to her then that perhaps she should have married him rather than Aegon. With two dragons, the Iron Fleet, her entire army and a suit of Valyrian steel they would easily be able to crush the Golden Company.

But no, that was ridiculous. Whilst Aegon angered easily, was too trusting, and as impulsive as any boy his age - despite being older than she was, he always seemed much younger to Dany - he was brave, fairly intelligent, mostly reasonable and had never tried (dared?) to mistreat her as a husband.

But Dany had seen the look in Victarion's eyes the few times he had spoken of his brother. Hatred, yes, but deep down there was fear too. The Iron Captain was huge, fierce and brutish, a feared warrior, proven commander and tough as dragon hide even if he would never be the smartest man in a room. He fought sea battles in full armour because he had no fear of drowning. What kind of person could scare a man like that?

"You'll fight for me?" Dany asked Euron somewhat doubtfully.

"With you, my dear," He smiled. "There is nothing I would like more than to see you sit the Iron Throne,"

Your Grace, not your dear.

What more could she do than return to land, and enter Dragonstone Harbour with the fleet as planned? She couldn't fight him; he wore Valyrian steel and she did not. It would be far easier for him to have Viserion flame her than it would be for her to knock him into the sea, and though Dany had a higher tolerance for heat than most, she wasn't willing to test it that far.

They met the furious Iron Captain at the docks, who looked ready to punch his brother in the face for the ploy with the dragonhorn. Though even Victarion knew better that to assault a man who had just dismounted a dragon.

"You knew it wouldn't work for me," He snarled nonetheless, and though he was much larger and a shade taller than Euron, he could not tower over him if he tried. "You set me up to fail - to serve your purposes,"

The Crow's Eye seemed amused at his brother's rage, his raised eyebrow silently asking 'and you're surprised?'. Dany had to agree with him there; within an hour of meeting this man, she wouldn't trust him as far as she could throw him.

"You hardly failed," He said. "You brought back Queen Daenerys - and my dragon," He cast a look her way, well aware of how her blood boiled at the fact he called Viserion his.

Victarion had simply stood there for several seconds, trying and failing to come up with a reply, then made a furious noise and stormed off to yell orders at his captains as they entered Dragonstone harbour.

The castle garrison had been left over from when Stannis Baratheon - the Usurper's brother and King of the Seven Kingdoms, for a few months - had held the island. They had (wisely) surrendered immediately upon seeing three dragons and the entire dreaded Iron Fleet bearing down on them, full of sellswords and Dothraki.

The common people of Dragonstone seemed glad to see two Targaryens in the flesh, however. Many of them must've had more blood of the dragon than Aegon, judging from the silver hair and Valyrian features that seemed remarkably common here. Dragonseeds, Ser Barristan called them, the descendants of centuries of Targaryen bastards. He'd told her not to expect such a friendly welcome anywhere else in the Seven Kingdoms.

Ser Barristan had been increasingly honest with her of late, at her own request. He had corrected her as to many of the falsehoods and delusions that Viserys had spent their childhood filling her ears with, which turned out to be numerous.

The smallfolk did not eagerly await the return of their rightful rulers, they simply wanted food on their tables and their children not to be slaughtered. Robert Baratheon had been a bad ruler but an immensely popular King, rather than hated and feared. Eddard Stark had not been one of the 'Usurpers dogs' but had been righteously seeking the return of his lost sisters and vengeance for the unjust murders of his father and brother. However, Tywin Lannister was indeed the worst kind of man, and a dangerous one besides.

The old knight had been greatly concerned - and rightly so - by Euron claiming Viserion, but like Dany realised there was little they could do about it aside from making sure he was their ally. For at this point, he would make a far worse enemy than even Aegon, as he could turn one of her dragons against them.

But even Ser Barristan's patience was being tried by the Crow's Eye's continued absence, so close to the arrival of the ship from King's Landing.

"He should still not dare to disrespect you," He remarked in the council meeting, agreeing with Aegon for once.

"We are his rightful King and Queen," Her husband agreed.

Not for the first time, Dany thought he was rather petulant when he was angry. There's very little Euron would not dare to do. He faced dragon fire without knowing for sure if his armour would fully protect him. The part of her that screamed for fire and blood wanted to simply kill him, steal the horn and take Viserion back, but the more rational part of her knew that was easier said than done.

"Ser Barristan," She said brightly instead. "Do tell me of all these angry lords coming to Dragonstone. We have a list now, of who they are sending,"

They had received the message that morning; the Lord Regent Loreon Storm, the Usurper's bastard son turned Lord of Storm's End, had written to them personally. Or rather, he had written to Daenerys, addressing her as the leader of both armies and having assessed her as the greater power of them both. Aegon had not been pleased.

"It's just a ploy," Lord Connington had told his charge with narrowed eyes. "They wish to sour you against each other - don't let this bastard's mind games work,"

Her husband was still disgruntled about that. Dany, on the other hand, had been both pleased and amused.

But that was besides the point. The letter had said that Storm was sending several representatives for all the great houses of Westeros to Dragonstone to talk with her. No doubt he wanted to avoid any kind of war between them, because without dragons he would undoubtedly lose. Though Aegon's conquest had been three centuries ago, Harrenhal's melted towers acted as a grisly reminder to all of the damage they could do.

"I don't think you told me who was coming, your Grace," Barristan said. "I'd be happy to tell you all I know, however,"

"No one important," Aegon scoffed. "They don't want to risk anyone too high-up. The Usurper's bastard is remaining cowering behind the walls of the Red Keep, with the King and Queen barely out of their swaddling clothes,"

"Tommen is a boy of thirteen, your Grace," The white knight corrected; he had no love for Aegon, Dany knew, and doubted his legitimacy, though would never say it aloud. "And Shireen is eleven. Both are intelligent and mature for their age. And you would be wise not to underestimate Loreon Storm. I knew him from when he was a boy. Few could beat him in the training yards even then, and like his father he has a remarkable talent for making friends. Useful friends. Bastards don't rise that high on luck alone,"

"Well none of them are coming, are they?" Her husband countered.

"Who is, your Grace?" Ser Barristan raised an eyebrow, a slight edge to his tone that would be unnoticeable to most, but not Dany.

"Olenna Tyrell," She replied. "Lord Tyrell's elderly mother, and the grandmother of Lord Storm's wife Margaery," An interesting choice of representative, but that was what she had been told. Dany had made sure to research the great houses of the Seven Kingdoms on her voyage west, and some of the different connections between them.

Aegon chuckled, but the old knight grimaced.

"She's known as the Queen of Thorns," He said. "I've never met anyone with a sharper tongue, not Tywin Lannister himself, and don't let her age fool you as to the state of her mind. Avoid engaging her in argument - I've never seen that end well for anyone. Though she's a tiny old woman, Lady Olenna could easily make both of you look like fools in front of everyone. The Tyrells may have supported your house during Robert's Rebellion but they are ever-pragmatic and have ties to the Baratheon dynasty now,"

Excellent. Dany would remember that, though her husband certainly wouldn't. Aegon was the type to only avoid touching a fire once he'd been burned, not merely warned.

"Thank you, ser," She said. "The Vale are sending Lord Royce and Lady Waynwood - what can you tell me of them?"

"Not much of Lady Waynwood," He admitted. "But Lord Royce is well regarded as a warrior and an honourable man. He rides well in tourneys and is one of the most powerful bannermen of the Arryns. Both are... advanced in years,"

"Are they only sending us old women?" Aegon raised an eyebrow. "Do they trust us that little not to murder their envoys the moment they set foot on Dragonstone?"

"They don't trust you at all," The knight warned. "For good reason,"

A silence.

"Ser Davos Seaworth?" Dany continued. "I don't recognise the house, but he's the Baratheon representative,"

"He was a smuggler," Barristan smiled faintly. "Who snuck a ship of food past the Redwyne fleet into Storm's End when the Tyrells were sieging it during the rebellion. By all accounts, he saved the garrison, including Renly and Stannis Baratheon, from starving to death. Stannis knighted him for his efforts, though chopped off the first joints of his fingers on his left hand for smuggling. Until Stannis' death, Seaworth was his right-hand man, and only friend,"

"Stannis chopped off his fingers yet he still was his friend?" Aegon raised an eyebrow.

"Don't ask me to explain that, your Grace," The knight said.

"A smuggler," Dany mused. That could be interesting. She wasn't sure what to expect from such a man treating with Kings and Queens. "What about Ser Brynden Tully, from the Riverlands? Lord Edmure's uncle?"

"A legendary warrior - in his prime, the Blackfish would have been a match for me," Barristan seemed pleased to hear he was attending. "He always refused to marry. I like him, he's a good man. But cunning too, as slippery as the fish on his sigil,"

"Another old man," Aegon mumbled.

"The west are sending Tyrion Lannister," Dany ignored him. "I'm not sure how to treat him. He was only a boy during the rebellion, though his father and brother's crimes are unforgivable,"

"You're right," The knight nodded. "But Tyrion loathes his father, who hates him in return for being a dwarf. From what I know of the Imp, he's a lecherous drunk, but clever too, underneath it all. More like his father than either his brother or sister. That is to say, ambitious and shrewd. Treat him with the respect his father does not and you may have a strong ally,"

Dany nodded, thinking.

"What I want to know," Aegon started. "Is why my uncle Oberyn and his bastard daughters are part of this retinue from the Iron Throne. I'd have thought they would approach us separately. Surely they mean to join us?" A flicker of uncertainly came across his expression and Dany felt a stab of pity for him. "They hate the Lannisters and Baratheons for what they did to my mother,"

"It's possible that they don't believe you're the real Aegon," Barristan said, rather more gently. "You have to admit, it's rather a shock to everyone. The Martells have believed Elia's son dead for over sixteen years now. They may yet come round after meeting you,"

That seemed to placate the young man somewhat, though he still frowned. Dany privately suspected that the unfortunate death of Quentyn Martell may have soured any relationship they may have had with Dorne.

Barristan took the opportunity of silence to ask a question of his own. "Who is the North sending, your Grace?" It was phrased too lightly to not disconcert her.

"Lady Rosennis Stark - the late Lord Eddard's sister - and her bastard son Ser Renan Snow," Dany narrowed her eyes as the knight grimaced. "Why that look? The new Lord Stark is a little boy, he couldn't have come himself,"

"No doubt his aunt is keeping him as far away as possible," He said. "I had wished they hadn't sent Lady Rosennis. She despises the Targaryens more than anyone else alive today, I am afraid. Poor woman,"

"Why do you say that?"

He hesitated, uncomfortable. "You know already that your father killed her father Lord Rickard and brother Brandon?"

Dany nodded. "It was unjust," She admitted. "Though they were wrong to demand anything of their King, and to threaten Rhaegar, they just wanted Lady Lyanna back. I'm prepared to apologise to Lady Stark, if it comes to it," The look on the old knight's face made her hesitate. "What aren't you telling me?"

Aegon had sat up to listen now, more attentive than he'd been this entire conversation.

"I wanted to spare you from these truths, your Grace, but no doubt they'll be thrown in your face at some point in the next few days and I'd rather you were prepared than caught off guard,"

"Yes, quite," She said, though felt a stab of dread. How bad could it possibly be? "I should know,"

"Lyanna Stark's brother Brandon came tearing down to the Red Keep, demanding that the Prince return his sister or 'come out and die'. But Rhaegar wasn't there, and Aerys had him thrown in the black cells. Lord Rickard came south, preparing to fight a trial by combat for his son's release. But the King chose wildfire as his champion," The old knight swallowed and Daenerys' stomach clenched unpleasantly. "He burned Rickard Stark from the rafters of the throne room while Brandon tried to save him, strangling himself with a device placed around his neck which tightened as he struggled. Lady Rosennis was there already, a hostage of the King's after Harrenhal, and your father made her watch, though she was only five-and-ten. She screamed and fought, but the King had Jaime Lannister hold her back,"

He sounded distant, and described the memory so vividly, which made it all the more horrifying. He had been there, he had witnessed this personally. They said my father was a monster, that he was mad and cruel... She hadn't quite realised what exactly that meant; though she had met many monsters in her life, she hadn't made the connection to her own father.

She glanced at Aegon, to see his expression was resigned. No doubt he had been told exactly what the Mad King was already, his guardians not wishing him to grow up the same way.

"Well I can hardly blame her for hating my house," Dany found her voice. "But surely she will realise she has to set aside her hate for the sake of her remaining family? Her father and brother have been dead almost two decades," Her sister too, she remembered with a pang. She did pity this poor woman, despite the fact Lady Stark apparently loathed her house.

"Killing her family in front of her is one thing, your Grace," Barristan grimaced. "But the King, he... he had his way with her, too. Many times, and hardly gently,"

"My father was no rapist!" Dany exclaimed, horrified, as Aegon's eyes widened; apparently he had not been told that part. "Surely not, surely it was just - just a - "

"There was no misunderstanding," Barristan said, cold. "I guarded the door and heard it all. I am not proud of just standing there, but we swore to protect the King. It was our duty," He hesitated. "It was the same when Aerys visited the Queen. He treated her no better than Lady Stark,"

Dany had nothing to say to that. My father raped my mother. She had only ever felt love towards both her parents, sadness that she had never known either of them, but now felt something resembling hate rise up in her towards her father. The Mad King.

Ser Barristan continued, voice heavy. "All the Kingsguard did the same, standing outside the door whilst the Queen was brutalised and later on Lady Stark, though young Jaime Lannister was affected most of all. He was friends with Rosennis, you see, and though he had good intentions of being honourable, he was never one to accept blank-faced orders to do his duty when it seemed... a reprehensible thing to do. They were of an age, him and the Stark girl. I only ever saw her smile around him,"

"He loved her," Aegon realised.

"Is that why he killed my father?" Dany asked hollowly. Because that made it sound justified, killing the rapist and tormentor of the woman he loved, and to accept that would be... difficult.

"No one was sure," The knight said. "But then Lady Rosennis had a bastard son, Renan Snow. With Lannister green eyes," Dany was selfishly relieved by that; for a split second, she had thought she might have a half-brother to contend with. A nephew was bad enough. "He's eight-and-ten now, and along with the Kingslayer, he's the most talented natural swordsman I've ever seen, but unlike his father he actually has a head for politics. His closest friend is Loreon Storm, and his mother is Lady Paramount of the North - so not to be underestimated,"

Dany shut her eyes briefly. Excellent.

"And what of the Kingslayer?" Aegon asked.

"What of him, your Grace?"

"Is he allowing his whore, his bastard and his Imp brother to treat with us while hiding away in King's Landing himself?"

"Don't call her a whore," Dany snapped at him. "Or any of them a bastard or an imp, for that matter. That's hardly going to endear us to them,"

He looked fit to roll his eyes but didn't argue.

"From what I've heard," Ser Barristan said carefully. "Jaime Lannister is leading a small force of men at the Wall. Reports suggest that the Wildlings attempted a mass-crossing, united under a king for the first time in centuries, but Loreon Storm would not have returned south if that hadn't been dealt with,"

"Nice of them to deal with it for us," Her husband snorted.

Dany was inclined to agree.

*

That conversation gave her a lot to think about, most of it unpleasant. Having returned to her chambers to have Missandei held her change into a Dothraki vest and leggings, she went for a ride on Drogon straight afterwards, which improved her mood somewhat though could not clear her head entirely. And when she saw Rhaegal circling around the highest peak on the island, it reminded her that Viserion and Euron were still gone to gods know where. Would he even come back with her child? She had to hope that his desire for power won out.

Aegon was waiting for her when she landed.

"Are you alright?" He asked, reminding her that he was often kind underneath all the arrogance and bouts of sulkiness. "That can't have been easy to hear,"

"It wasn't," She admitted, though didn't elaborate much.

Though she got on with her husband well enough, despite finding his fits of petulance irritating, she had never opened up to him about anything personal. He was still too much of a rival to even consider it, which was not ideal considering they were meant to be a strong, united front.

However, a thought suddenly came to her, a reckless one but one that could perhaps could turn out to be a good idea.

"Do you want to come for a ride on Drogon?" She asked him. "I don't mind going up again,"

Aegon hesitated, which was unexpected. She thought he would be jumping at the chance to prove himself a proper Targaryen and ride a dragon, even if it wasn't his own, something she had never offered before.

"He won't flame, will he?" There was a rare edge of nerves in his voice, and though he stepped closer to the great black dragon, he stopped a short distance away.

"No," Dany smiled. "I've taken Missandei up on his back before,"

That was true, and the little scribe had loved it, closing her eyes against the wind with a smile and letting her fingers graze the clouds... but the knowledge that an eleven year old girl had done something he was scared of clearly pushed Aegon's decision.

"Alright,"

Dany grinned, offering a hand so her husband could pull himself up. He settled awkwardly behind her, strapping himself into the saddle like she showed him, and the moment Drogon moved grabbed onto her waist with an iron grip, curses spilling from his lips as the dragon took flight.

She thought he would perhaps get used to flying after the initial shock, but Aegon did not, remaining tense and cursing for the whole flight. Part of her was amused by this, urging Drogon into deep dives and rolls that had her husband screaming aloud - the dragon did not need much encouragement - though another part of her was scornful. You're no dragon, she thought as they landed and Aegon eagerly unstrapped his legs, sliding to the ground, relieved to have made it in one piece. But she smiled and took his offered hand to help her down, and didn't object when he pulled her into an adrenaline-fuelled kiss.

She knew he would visit her chambers that night; he did most nights. She didn't mind - her third husband was far better between the sheets than Hizdahr, who was too meek and lacked any fervour whatsoever - but he was also young, and rather selfish, and had to often be reminded to think of her.

It was times like that when she wished she had brought Daario west instead of insisting he remained with his Stormcrows in Essos. But he brought out the side of her that she often tried to pretend wasn't there; the part of her that rejoiced in fire and blood, which no amount of diplomacy or peacemaking would remove. She disliked who she was around him, what he brought out in her, and so he'd had to stay behind.

Remember who you are, Daenerys. Quaithe had known that side of her too. But Dany was determined to not let the legacy of her ancestors taint her rule. She was Mhysa, the Breaker of Chains, Mother of Dragons. She tried to do what was best for her people. Though Meereen had proved that her judgement with regard to that was... sometimes lacking.

She had wanted to flame Aegon, when he first appeared in the Great Pyramid claiming to be of her blood, with a better claim than her own. But - though she would rather die than admit it - a smaller, weaker part of her was simply glad that the burden of ruling would not fall solely on her. All mistakes would not be not hers to bear alone.

*

Dany had dressed up that morning, for the ship from King's Landing was only a few hours away. She wore her house colours, a black and red gown, and her three-headed-dragon crown. It was strange, wearing Westerosi dresses all the time instead of her wildly inconvenient Ghiscari tokar (not that she was sorry to see the back of her floppy ears) or even her Qartheen silks. The idea of having one breast bare in the Qartheen fashion for this meeting was ludicrous, however; not to mention the fact she would likely freeze. It wasn't even winter on Dragonstone, and yet the weather was already colder than Dany had ever experienced.

Missandei clearly felt similarly. As her handmaid and herald, it was not fitting for the girl to wear anything other than Westerosi fashions too, and the little scribe seemed to delight in the long, swishy skirts even though the dress was plain, and was grateful for the long sleeves and thick fabric.

"Do all servants in Westeros wear such things?" She asked Dany with wide eyes upon receiving her new dress. "The colour is beautiful," The dusty shade of pink went nicely with her dark skin and golden-brown eyes too.

"I suppose yours is nicer than a kitchen maid would wear," Dany smiled fondly. "But you are my handmaid, and my herald, and it is fitting that you look beautiful too,"

It was Missandei who introduced each of their guests in turn when they made it up to the castle from the harbour. Dany and Aegon received the envoys in the throne room, sat on chairs of equal size and stature.

Oberyn Martell stood alongside his bastard daughters. Obara was big and mannish, Nymeria sultry and beautiful, Tyene innocent-looking and fair, whilst their father was tall, lean and graceful. Despite their differences in appearance they all had the same dangerous glint to their eyes, if you looked close enough.

Olenna Tyrell was a tiny elderly woman dressed in green, flanked either side by two huge guardsmen. She looked so frail that Dany initially struggled to imagine how anyone could call her the Queen of Thorns, though her eyes were bright and beady.

Davos Seaworth was plainer dressed than the rest, a slight, ordinary sort of man, with greying brown hair and a pouch around his neck. Lord Royce was enormous for a man of his age, towering over even Ser Barristan, with a fierce, proud expression. Lady Waynwood was stern and austere in green silk. Brynden Tully was tall and lean, with a craggy, weathered face and eyes that looked like they would normally be laughing but were now deadly serious.

Tyrion Lannister, of course, stood out before his introduction. He had, perhaps wisely, forgone Lannister red, wearing blue and gold instead, and didn't look anything like the family norm of golden-haired, green-eyed and beautiful. He couldn't have been more than four and a half feet tall, with stunted legs, pale flaxen hair, a large forehead and a ruin of a nose that left a gaping hole in his face. He seemed to understand that his mismatched stare of black and green was unnerving.

Of all of them, however, it was the Starks that daunted her the most.

Renan Snow was tall, lean and fairly handsome, the youngest of the party, with dark hair and a sharp jaw. He moved with a warrior's - a lion's? - easy grace, and somehow, though he was of an age with Aegon, seemed so much older than her husband. There was something distinctly rough and... wild about him too, compared to the people from the south; something of the wolf of his mother's sigil. His hard, calculating eyes unnerved her even more than Tyrion's.

His mother was tall for a woman, and the most high-ranking one of the group, given that she was Lady Paramount of the North. Dany wasn't sure what she had been expecting from Rosennis Stark - a broken woman, perhaps, who had been sent there for her to pity, to guilt her for her family's sins? - but whatever that had been, the woman herself was far from it.

Despite the fact that Dany wore black and she wore Stark white, Lady Rosennis someone appeared... darker. She cut a thin figure, a silver direwolf on a chain round her neck and a dagger at her belt. Dark hair flowed freely around her shoulders, down a steel-straight back to her waist. Her long face was sharp-boned and hard; not beautiful, exactly, but strikingly distinct. There was something unflinching about her, something vicious. Her eyes - grey, like thousands of years of Starks before her - took in Dany and Aegon, and they hated.

Rhaegar took her sister. Aerys took her father and brother, and her dignity too. She'd kill us both with that dagger, if she gets half a chance. She's here to intimidate and accuse, not inspire pity.

Daenerys swallowed as she herself was announced, after Aegon. He had insisted on being announced first, and she had granted him that at least, to keep him happy. All eyes were upon them. No doubt they had already seen the dragons circling the island, though all had held their nerve.

A silence.

"What is your business here on Dragonstone?" Her husband spoke first, his voice strong and carrying well.

"You call yourselves King and Queen," Olenna Tyrell replied. Dany realised then why she was called the Queen of Thorns; she spoke to them like she was indulging a spoilt child. "We come to ask on behalf of Shireen Baratheon, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, by what right?"

"Birthright. The Iron Throne belongs to House Targaryen, who made the Seven Kingdoms into one," Aegon said, and Dany lifted her chin. "The Usurper, Robert Baratheon, stole it and slaughtered my brother, whilst the Lannisters murdered my grandfather, mother and sister,"

Rosennis Stark's eyes narrowed dangerously.That argument won't work with these people, least of all her. But her husband was looking straight at Oberyn Martell as he spoke, hoping to have some kind of support from those he believed his kin. She felt for him; at least she knew who she really was, even if she had no family left. It was somehow sadder to clutch at straws that may only turn out to be false.

"The Targaryens won the throne through the right of conquest," Tyrion Lannister spoke up, his voice careful and clever, assessing every move they made. "As did Robert Baratheon. So there is no question of it being rightfully yours. It belongs to whoever takes it,"

"Then we will take it," Dany said, stronger than she had intended.

"With fire and blood?" Oberyn Martell raised an eyebrow.

"You've no doubt seen the dragons," She replied, hoping that it wouldn't come to that. It was one thing using the dragons on hostile Dothraki, slavers and those attacking her first. It was quite another burning alive the armies of the people she one day hoped to rule, who had not provoked her, who she wished to love her, foolish though that may be. "I do not wish to harm innocent people - "

"Then leave," Rosennis Stark spoke for the first time, her voice cold and sharp as the dagger at her belt. She stared Dany down with the stony eyes of the Kings of Winter. "Return to Slaver's Bay and never bother us again. You come here with an army and three dragons, yet have the nerve to say you do not wish to harm innocent people. You'll do it nonetheless,"

"And which one of you will sit in it?" Olenna Tyrell asked with an air of bemused amusement, before Dany had a chance to respond to that, or Lady Stark had a chance to pull her knife. "You clearly can't even agree who should have the bigger chair here - there's no space for two squabbling children on the Iron Throne,"

"Myself and Queen Daenerys are united in ruling as we are united as husband and wife," Aegon cut in, his tone even, but she could sense that he was already close to anger. "Both equal,"

"I doubt that," The Queen of Thorns scoffed openly. "Where's your dragon, boy?" She smiled as Aegon had no answer, but thankfully kept his temper. "Your Queen has the larger army, and what's more, her dragons prove her a true Targaryen. We have no such proof for you, however,"

"I can vouch for him," Lord Connington stepped forward, lip curled in dislike. "I was handed the infant King Aegon after the Sack of King's Landing, and have watched the boy grow. Prince Rhaegar was my closest friend - why would I soil his memory by claiming a pretender as his son?"

"Who handed him to you?" Brynden Tully asked mildly. "For unless it was Princess Elia or Rhaegar himself, I'm not so sure that makes any difference,"

"It was Varys," Oberyn Martell, surprisingly, replied. "A talented spymaster, though my spies are better. I asked them to look into the man who had apparently saved my nephew's life, since his miraculous reappearance after all these years of being dead. My daughter Nymeria delivered,"

The young woman's full lips curled into a silken smile as her father gestured for her to speak.

"Varys was brother to Serra. Both of them are descendants of House Blackfyre through the female line. Serra died young but left her bastard son with her beloved husband, Illyrio Mopatis," She turned to Aegon with dark, lustrous eyes and had Dany been a more jealous woman - or cared at all for her husband - she would have been enraged. "Magister Illyrio has funded and supported you your entire life. Serra's son vanished after that first year - by all accounts, Illyrio loved his wife dearly and doted on that baby, he would hardly have had him killed,"

"Not least because he had a tenuous claim to the Iron Throne," Her sister Tyene said with a small smirk, not as sweet and innocent as she appeared.

"And there you have it," Oberyn eyed Aegon carefully but not unkindly. "You're a black dragon, not a red one. Why else would the Golden Company have broken their contract?"

Her husband's face had reddened indeed and Daenerys thought him fit to scream in rage. Jon Connington looked ready to strike the Viper's head from his shoulders.

"Traitors," The exiled lord said in the end when Aegon did not speak, voice cold. "You've betrayed your sister's memory in siding with her enemies, Martell, and coming up with these lies,"

"Dorne might've ignored the fact you're not Elia's son, for revenge against the Lannisters," Obara Sand spoke up, eyes narrowed. "Had your Queen's dragons not burned our cousin Quentyn alive,"

"The dragons were locked up underground," Daenerys cut that accusation off immediately. "For the safety of everyone. I am sorry for what happened, but Prince Quentyn - Gods know why - decided to break into their cavern and try to steal one. I was away from Meereen at the time, and came back to the chaos of two dragons loose in the city,"

"So the beasts are uncontrollable?" Yohn Royce asked gruffly. "What's stopping them from burning down a city, if they so choose?"

"Drogon is my mount," She said. "He will not anything of the sort unless I ask him," The threat was out of her lips before she recognised what she was saying.

"And the other two?"

She hesitated.

"We have found a rider for Viserion," Aegon spoke then, looking anywhere but the Dornish party.

Evidently none of them had expected that; Dany caught the glance shared between Renan Snow and Rosennis Stark, likely plotting the death of this mysterious rider already. You'd be doing me a kindness, my lady.

"Who?" Tyrion Lannister asked curiously.

"We'll introduce you later," Dany cut in with finality, glaring Aegon into silence, which did not go unnoticed.

A pause.

"We know you want the Iron Throne, Lady Targaryen," Lannister's use of the wrong title riled her, though she supposed it was the right title from his point of view. "You think you are owed it, and will likely take it regardless of what we say here. No need to discuss that. We simply came here to ask what you'll be willing to do to get it,"

"Not how many people you'd burn on a battlefield, or how many heads would roll in the Red Keep," Brynden Tully spoke before she could. "But what you'd do for the people of this realm,"

"What do you mean?" She frowned.

"There's a threat to the North that needs... fixing," Renan Snow spoke for the first time.

"I thought you defeated the Wildlings?"

"We did," Snow smiled bleakly. "Then we let them through the Wall,"

What? At this surprising revelation, Dany looked for any sign of dissent or anger at this decision from the others, and found none. How were all notoriously quarrelsome Seven Kingdoms suddenly in agreement, over this apparently moronic decision no less?

"Can I ask why?"

"A greater threat than an army of Wildlings could ever pose," His words chilled her more than she was prepared to admit.

"We'll explain more, once you swear that you will fight against this threat," Tyrion Lannister said, then added with dark amusement. "And prove yourself a Queen who would protect her people rather than one who simply wishes to reign over the ashes,"

"Are you saying," She started doubtfully. "That you'll simply give me the Seven Kingdoms, if I fight this mysterious threat for you?"

"With us," The dwarf corrected. "But otherwise, with some conditions, yes,"

Rosennis Stark's eyes shone with anger and hatred but she didn't object. Neither did any of the others; not sharp-tongued Lady Olenna, fierce Obara Sand nor quiet and watchful Ser Davos Seaworth. What has them so scared that they're all in agreement, that they should fight with a Targaryen nonetheless? Weren't they all at war a year ago, besides?

Dany glanced at Ser Barristan, who had clearly not expected this, to Lord Connington who had narrowed eyes, as though this was some kind of trick, to Aegon who hardly looked like he was paying this any mind at all, still dwelling on the public rejection from those he thought of as family. None of them were going to answer for her.

"I swear,"

*

Edited November 2024

I didn't intend this to be a Dany POV but it allows a different look at the characters, as well as revealing some of what went on in Slaver's Bay. Also how she's realising she's more of a conqueror than a ruler but trying to squash her 'fire and blood' side.

What do you think of Euron? He's based on the book version here - I cannot emphasise enough how show-viewers were robbed of this character; the mysterious, charismatic, sadistically evil pirate but instead we got cock jokes and an appallingly unnecessary last fight for Jaime.

Many people have high hopes for Aegon, but that cyvasse game with Tyrion in canon proved what kind of person he is to me; he's reckless (turns to Westeros based on some stupid comment from Tyrion that hurts his ego), can't control his anger (he flips the board when he loses the game) and petty (makes Tyrion pick up the pieces).

Quick side note, I haven't read any of the sample chapters for TWOW - I want to read the whole books when (if) it comes out (although Euron's Valyrian steel armour was too cool to leave out). Apologies if anything in this chapter disregards any of them.