Queen in the North

Daenerys

Sorry that this is a kinda short chapter.

Drogon was faster than any horse. He seemed to know what she wanted the moment the idea came to her mind. 

High Garden had already been sacked by the Tarly's. The castle was left barren and pillaged as Cersei's army marched back to Kingslanding. The army was a sea of red and gold, the Lannister colors. When she was finished, red would be the only color left. 

They would be upon the troops momentarily. She could already hear the screams of terror. Drogon practically hummed with anticipation under her. "Dracarys." She whispered as the men were engulfed in flames. Their cries were music to her ears. Soon, Cersei would be the one screaming as her dragons cooked her alive. 

The ground was chaos as the troops scattered, commanders tried to control the terrified men, but their efforts reaped no rewards. The hoots of the Dothraki entered the chorus of carnage. It felt like mere seconds, but the battle had lasted nearly three hours before victory was declared and the prisoners were presented. 

She stood in front of the beaten men. "I know what Cersei has told you. That I have come to destroy your cities, burn your homes, murder you and orphan your children. That is Cersei Lannister, not me. I'm not here to murder and all that I want to destroy is the wheel that has rolled over the rich and poor, to the benefit of nobody but the Cersei Lannister's of the world. I offer you a choice, bend the knee and join me, or refuse and die."

The men slowly fell to their knees around her, making her heart nearly skip a beat in her chest. A few remained standing, one of which was wearing armor that signified his station. 

"Step forward, my lord." The man stepped up. "You will not kneel?"

"I already have a queen." He says. 

"Very well." Her Dothraki grabbed his arm and pulled him forward, in front of Drogon. 

A young man followed after the lord. "You will have to kill me too." He declares, trying to be brave. 

The older, presumably his father, turned to his son and snarled, "Step back and shut your mouth."

"Who are you?" Dany asked.

"Dickon Tarly, son of Randall Tarly."

Tyrion stepped forward, looking sickly. "You are the future of your house. Protect the future of your house, bend the knee." He pleaded.

Dany would have grimaced, but her queenly mask did not shift. Her hand was showing weakness to their enemies. Perhaps he was not cut out from the hardships of war. 

"I will not," Dickon said softly. 

Tyrion turned to Dany, no doubt to beg for mercy. She cut him off. "I meant what I said. I gave them a choice, they made it."

The Tarly's were pulled in front of Drogon, standing proudly in front of their executioner. 

"Dracaracy." The men turned to little more than burnt bones in a matter of seconds. Her heart races with the power of being judge, jury, and executioner. Tyrion had been unable to watch, displaying his weakness for all to see, but Dany could not pull her eyes away. 

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Time jump to when she arrives back on Dragonstone

When Drogon landed, she saw that Jon Snow and his dire wolf had been sitting on the nearby cliffs, watching the waves. He approached her dragon, showing no fear for the mighty beast, the dire wolf remaining behind him. She was about to call out a warning to the man when Drogon actually lowered his head and allowed the man to pet him. 'That is odd.' Dany thought, her dragons would normally cook anyone who approached them like that, except for Dany herself of course. 

She dismounted Drogon and began to walk towards the King in the North. Drogon turned away and lurched into flight. 

"They're beautiful, aren't they?" She asked.

"Wasn't the word I was thinking of... but yes, they are. Gorgeous beasts."

"They're not beasts to be. They're my children." For some reason, she found herself trusting this Jon Snow. She could admire and respect the man, even though he refused to bend the knee. 

Jon looked at her, silent for a second, studying her. "You were gone long."

"No."

"And?"

"And I have fewer enemies today than I did yesterday." She watched him, the way his brows drew together as he pondered her words. "You're not sure how you feel about that." 

"No, I'm not."

"How many men did your army kill taking Winterfell back from the Boltons?" She didn't know why she was explaining herself to him, but she needed for him to understand.

"Thousands."

"We both want to help people. We can only help them from a position of strength. Sometimes, strength is terrible." 

'And sometimes it feels glorious.' She mentally adds. 

Time to spark a debate: Did y'all agree with any going crazy at the end of GOT? I lowkey did and thought that it tied her story together very well, but it was poorly executed. If they started in season 7 or added more episodes to season 8, making it a slow descent then it would have been *chefs kiss*.