A/N: While this may not be entirely satisfactory to some, perhaps most, of you, I believe it's better than leaving it without an end when I only had 2-3 chapters left to write on this anyway. While it was a bit troublesome to write, I hope it's at least somewhat decent. I apologise for taking this long to wind this up when this was all I had to do.
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Daenerys Stormborn dreamt often. She dreamt of many things. At times, she dreamt of her home. That quaint place with the red door, tucked away from the world, away from all its many pleasures and horrors, where the servants looked after her and her brother. Those days were behind now.
At times, she dreamt of her brother, whom she had loved, who had harmed her, and then been given a crown of gold by her Khal. She dreamt of dragons, of creatures of white-ice whose blood flowed blue. Those creatures always ended up swallowed by dragonfire as of late.
Yes, Daenerys Stormborn dreamt often.
That had been a good thing. At times, she reminisced for them, recalling better times. At times, she grew afeared, yet gained hope for the future all the same.
As of late however, her dreams had been the cause of naught but cold sweats, languid mornings, and an uneasiness that left her, and all those who followed her, worried and unable.
They had begun when she left the ports of Yunkai, from Slaver's Bay, past the Isle of Cedars onto the Gulf of Grief where the great remains of Old Valyria smouldered for all the world to see. She had felt a foreboding then, and took the wise counsel of her advisors in avoiding what was left of the dragonlords, and a great kingdom that spanned much of Essos.
Now, the queen and all at her call; the Dothraki and the Unsullied and all those that chose to bend the knee and were capable of taking up arms, sailed through the Summer Sea, set for Westeros.
Her home, her birth right, her throne.
She meant to do what Aegon the Conqueror had done before her. If need be, through dragonfire, as he once had.
The Seven Kingdoms were hers to rule.
Then, those dreams began.
She dreamt of dragonfire, but not as before. That dragonfire came for her and her dragons, her fleet and all those she held close, the cities she liberated and the people she freed.
A great black shadow swept over all. It came for her last.
She saw lightning rage in the skies, the earth split open, the seas parted and the mountains shorn. She saw skies of blackened smoke, and burnt earth, and fields of broken swords and shields. She saw plains of yellow grass dyed red by the corpses of men and beasts.
Daenerys Stormborn saw ruin untold.
And then, a figure would emerge from the shadow cast. Always. With eyes that were a black abyss, smouldering with those same red-hot flames that destroyed all her creation. Yes, 'he' would inevitably appear, in all her dreams.
She could never see him, never make out what he was, but she knew that he was never a man.
An ancient evil. Some forgotten god. An unintelligible monstrosity beyond the understanding of mere mortals. All that, and then some more.
That day was much the same.
She woke in her cabin choked for breath, hair dishevelled, drenched in cold sweat that made the fabrics of her gown cling to her skin. Torrential rain hammered away at the hull of her flagship. Even from her bed, she knew her vessel would struggle to maintain its course amid the tall waves crashing against the wood. She could hear them vividly.
From past the window, she saw lightning dance across black skies. A moment later, thunder roared. Perhaps the dream was the cause, but she winced at the sudden noise.
She must have made some startled sound in her momentary fright then, as Missandei was opening the door the moment she gathered herself. The former slave-girl Daenerys had taken as confidante and advisor supported herself against the doorframe, apologetic face paler than usual.
"Forgive this one, Mhysa."
Daenerys' gaze warmed at the sight of her.
"Missandei. Where has this storm come from? I recall clear skies."
Missandei's golden eyes wavered at the inquiry. She lowered her head. "I do not know, Your Grace. I awoke to the thunder as well. I can not help but think it is an ill sign. Your dragons..."
"What of them?"
"They are terrified, Your Grace." Missandei spoke slow and quiet, "They can scarcely take flight."
That was strange. Immensely so. Her dragons had never been afraid of storms. The wind and rain never impeded the beat of their ever-mighty wings. They were creatures born of fire. To them, the cold had never meant harm or fear.
"Drogon as well?" Daenerys could not contain her surprise. Yet, she never doubted Missandei's words.
Missandei only gave a hesitant nod.
Then, Daenerys was up. With Missandei's help, she combed her hair to a what befit a Queen at the bare minimum, then donned gold-white robes, with sleeves that flowed down only faintly past her shoulder.
Then, and only then, did Daenerys finally begin making her way up the long stairs to the main deck.
She would have to question her captains. The weather...
"Are all vessels accounted for?" She asked.
"Some have strayed, Your Grace. But, much of the fleet is there. It is strange how there is such little loss with how harsh the storm is."
"Then we must be thankful."
They fell into silence, and stepped under open skies onto a scene Daenerys could never have imagined. There, on the fore, stood an impressive man in a dark cloak. His white hair was that of a Valyrian, and his features were just as sculpted, if not entirely unnatural.
Calmly, he watched the dark sky even when nearly a dozen Unsullied had already encircled him. The points of their spears needed only be disturbed by a crashing wave to pierce through his throat and his heart, yet, he was not worried. He was not worried at all. An easy smile played across his face.
Suddenly, those bright red eyes found her and Daenerys Stormborn found herself unconsciously clenching her fists. A frustration which she knew to be unreasonable began welling up within her heart at the ease with which he had startled her.
She held up a hand to halt her soldiers, then approached as the rain drenched her robes and her hair once more. He had startled her. Yes. That was no reason to stop. She was the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Her resolve remained unshaken.
If a man's gaze was all it took, then she was not fit for all those that followed her back.
"Name yourself."
The white of his teeth showed when his smile widened. He craned his neck.
"Karl."
"Karl." She repeated, letting the odd word linger on her tongue. "What business have you with me, Karl?"
He straightened his back.
"Hm, what's this? Nothing about how I'm here? Or how about I should be kneeling in front of you?" He gripped his shaven chin, "Colour me intrigued. I came here expecting a Targaryen."
Missandei stepped ahead, hands held over her belly, "Kneel for Daenerys Stormborn, the Unburnt, Queen of Mereen and Astapor and Yunkai, Queen of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Shackles, and Mother of Dragons."
The odd man, Karl, lightly pressed a finger against the spear nearest his neck. His action was rebuked by Unsullied wielding it roughly shoving his hand away and taking a step closer.
"Stingy. Mother of Dragons, though... Well, I'm all for insulting dragonkind by calling those disgusting maggots of yours dragons." He chuckled lightly, "Good going."
Drogon came tumbling down from the dark skies, and crashed against the deck, going right through because of his incredible weight into whatever awaited below. She heard her child screech and howl as if it was throwing a tantrum.
Before her instincts got the better of her-
"Shut up."
Drogon's cries died down the moment the stranger spoke for a reason Daenerys was sure she would not like.
"Don't sour my mood by reminding me of those creatures." Karl shrugged his hands, "Really, people never get when someone's just being courteous. Daenerys, and whatever other titles you've seen fit to give yourself."
Her hair stood on end when he began addressing her, and her heart drummed against her chest.
"Turn back. Westeros doesn't want you. I've made Stannis Baratheon king. From..." He smiled at Missandei, "what I see, your people treasure you. Turn back. Rule over what you've conquered as you please."
"What?"
"I don't want another war to start plaguing the smallfolk so soon. I've long taken that particular matter into my own hands."
"Who are you to-"
"I've grown bored of that sort of thing. I am Karl." He put a hand against his chest, "And I will sink your fleet here. I'll slaughter these pitiful creatures you name my great enemy as well."
The other, he raised as a fist.
Suddenly, the raging storm came to an immediate stop. No more rain came down. The tall waves became still water. Flame-coloured lightning danced across the still-black skies.
Daenerys could scarcely believe what was before her.
It was the same creature. She knew then. He was the one she had seen in her dreams. That unreachable monstrosity that became reason for many sleepless nights and uneasy mornings.
There, the Queen lost her words.
She was not capable of... What was she supposed to do?
Just what was she supposed to do if all she saw was true?
"Turn back, Daenerys. It's unfair that I've not given you the chance to show you that you would be a better leader but... you are still Targaryen. Your dynasty fell for a reason. That said, I won't say that's the reason I'm not letting you land in Westeros. I've simply decided that I want the war to end."
He shook his head.
"No, that's wrong. I've decided to end the war."
Deafening thunder roared and the darkness of a black sky was gone. Flaming lightning rained down and crashed violently against the ocean. The incredible spectacle made men fall to their knees and plead with their own gods.
Daenerys knew it was for naught.
What use were unseen gods when one stood right before them?
Her legs grew weak.
"If you decide to return, I'll be waiting."
A flash of flame erupted from beneath his feet. It grew and grew and grew until it became so immense that there was little else to see past it. Then, that flame grew terrible wings and a horned head. Lightning flashed. A creature worse than any nightmare stood before her.
A dragon that dwarfed her own, whose blood was fire and lightning, visible underneath the cracks in the charred stone that was its flesh. Atop his head, there were six horns bent to look a jagged crown.
Its fiery eyes focused on her, and Daenerys Stormborn fell to her knees, lips parted.
-
"You will not take land and title as reward?"
I smiled faintly, my back against the rugged bark of some aged tree in the Red Keep's godswood. King Stannis stood before me, quiet and patient, his hands behind his back as he awaited my answer.
"Let me get this straight," I bit into the red apple in my hand, speaking as I munched, "You want to... give me a headache in exchange for my help?"
His crown was a simple thing, resting rather heavy upon his bald head as of late.
He let out a grunt at my words.
"How heartless." I sighed, "And even after I drove away the Targaryen Queen."
The King said nothing, for he knew that his throne was given to him for nothing but my whimsy decision to support him. That was why he complied and drove away the Red God from his kingdoms at my request. It was a necessary political move for a peaceful reign, but I liked to think it was my doing.
He even spared Tyrion Lannister.
"What will you do now?" He asked after a long silence.
"Travel some more. See Essos maybe. Bother Daenerys. Ah, don't worry. I have no intention of interfering with your little rule in any way. Oh-"
I bit my apple again.
"-unless you become a tyrant. Then I do the same thing I did with the others. I might even be there to see your kid crowned. Who knows."
The Ruler of the Seven Kingdoms inclined his head.
"I offer my gratitude. Westeros will remember you."
I waved my hand disinterestedly, "We'll see for how long."
That was just the way humans were.
My eyelids grew heavy and watching Stannis' leave, I found myself drifting to sleep. When I woke next, an familiar-yet-unfamiliar face was shaking my shoulders with a closeness I'd almost forgotten in Westeros.
Yes, that familiar face... of an idiot who called someone like me a friend, and his grumpy little lady who thought I was no good for even such an idiot.
"Karl! Karl, wake up!"
I could not help but smile happily.
Oh, there was even that child with them. Her red hair had grown terribly long, though my heart pained at the sight of the Scarlet Rot that had eaten away at much of even her face now.
Her lips trembled at the sight of me.
"I finally found you. Gah, I never expected you'd be inside Leyndell."
I stared up at him hazily.
"So... that's curtains for that adventure, huh?" I said to myself, sighing heartily.
"Huh? What're you talking about?"
"Nothing."
I shook my head and took his hand.
"Hello again, Tarnished."
"Yeah. Hello again is right." He pulled me to my feet.
I looked at Melina. "Heya."
She closed her one open eye and turned away with a huff.
"Disapproving as ever."
Then, I looked at the pained child I had once cradled. I could not help but smile further.
"You've grown a lot."
Suddenly, two arms wrapped around me.
One of metal. One of flesh.
Somehow, I had never expected Malenia to be tall enough to pick me up in the air this way.
"You've... returned."
The words came by themselves.
"I'm sorry I took so long."
-
I hope you enjoyed.
The few of you that will read this, I thank you for sticking along with me from the bottom of my heart.