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Chapter Text

Author's Note: I don’t own Game of Thrones or any of its characters. I own the plot of the story and a few characters, which are my creations.

Summary: Daenerys's scared purple eyes met those of the Khal. He had dark purple, almost black eyes that met hers. There was a kindness in his eyes. He was not what she envisioned; his skin was tanned and his body tattooed with scars and tattoos, each scar and tattoo had a story to tell. 

Prologue

The Tower of Joy, the Prince’s Pass: Dorne 

281 AC.

'Promise you will protect him after. Promise me you will protect my son. I know Ned would care for him. But I love my brother too much to ask him to do this. Go with Oswell and keep him safe.... Promise me," Lyanna begged him.

"I promise, does he have a name?" Arthur questioned as he held the babe in his arms.

'Yes, Maekar Targaryen is his name, the second of his name. Promise me you will look after him, Arthur." The queen was dying. The babe had done a lot of damage when he was born.

“I promise, my queen,” Arthur answered. Looking down at the newborn king. Maekar II of his name. His hair was a carbon copy of his mother's, save for the three streaks of silver in it like Princess Rhaenys's hair had been. Arthur swallowed the heavy lump in his throat as he thought of the princess.

Lyanna smiled weakly, her strength waning. The king let out a small cry and opened his purple eyes. Dark purple, like Rhaegar—so dark you could think they were black. “Let me touch him one last time, Arthur.”

The Sword of the Morning knelt. The newborn king in his arms. With both his father and brother dead. Maekar was next in line. Lyanna rubbed her thumb against Maekar’s cheek. The babe quietened at his mother’s touch.

The gods were cruel. The king would grow up without his parents or his siblings. Not for the first time, Arthur cursed the Mad King. Had Rhaegar been hasty in running away with Lyanna and marrying her, along with Elia? Perhaps.

They’d left notes behind, Lyanna had told him. But why had they thought that Lyanna had been kidnapped and raped? It did not matter who had done what and what had led to the events of the Rebellion. It was over.

It was only he and Oswell left. Lord Commander Hightower had passed in his sleep two moons earlier, not long before the Battle of the Trident. 

“I love you, my little dragon,” Lyanna said as she passed.

Arthur held the king in one arm. Closed the queen’s eyes. Tears would be no good to them. Ned Stark would be looking for his sister. Dayne was sure Stark would not do anything to the boy. It was too dangerous for them to remain in Westeros.

Queen Rhaella and Prince Viserys were holding up Dragonstone. That would be the most likely course to take, but dangerous as well. Information since King’s Landing had fallen to the Rebels had been limited.

Dragonstone could have already been taken, and the queen and the prince taken prisoner or worse. Arthur prayed their fate was not the same as that which befell Princess Elia and her children. What sort of monster murders children in front of their mother and then rapes and kills her afterwards?

Fucking Lions. Tywin Lannister and his mad dogs. Arthur kept his cool as he left the Tower of Joy. With the king in his arms. Oswell sat at their makeshift camp, cleaning his sword as Arthur approached.

“The Queen”

“Gone to meet the Stranger. We are all the King has now, Ossie.” The king slept soundly in the arms of the Sword of the Morning. 

“Queen Rhaella still lives, I pray; both she and Prince Viserys are safe.” There had been rumours that the queen was with child again. What happened to Babe was unknown to both the Kingsguard. 

“I will pray for them as well.”

“Stark will be coming for us soon to find his sister.” Whent cautioned.

“He will,” Arthur grunted. “We need to leave soon. Send word to the village to prepare her body for burial.”

“We may not even have time for that, Arthur,” Oswell noted a cloud of dust in the distance. Perhaps it was Stark who came for his sister, perhaps not. 

“We’ll have no choice but to kill them to protect the king.” 

“Stark won’t hurt his nephew,” Oswell interjected.

“Aye, perhaps not. We cannot take the risk. I promised the queen to care for him and protect him. We are all he has. We don’t know if Queen Rhaella or Prince Viserys is still alive.

We know what happened to Princess Elia and the children. The King is the only surviving son of Prince Rhaegar, the rightful King. I made a promise I intend to keep. We need to leave soon.

The longer we delay, the more endangered the King is.” Arthur finished.

“You take the king and a few wet nurses and go east. Get as far away as you can, Arthur. I will stay and guard the queen’s body till her brother comes for her. You are my brother. I need you to do this for me.

You are all the king has.” Arthur knew what Oswell was hinting at.

“No, we go together.”

“Someone has to stay and guard the queen’s body. We are the Kingsguard, and we do not flee. But you are not fleeing; you are making a tactical retreat. The king needs you. You are a Kingsguard; you swore to protect the King. That babe is the rightful king.

Promise me, Arthur, you will run and don't look back.” Oswell wasn’t backing down.

“I wish you good fortune in the wars to come, brother.”

“And you as well.” Oswell and Arthur embraced.

Arthur prepared to leave with the king and two wet nurses, Wylla and Lenda. Arthur had the king strapped to his chest as they rode away, leaving Oswell there with the queen’s body. 

They stopped briefly in the nearest village, sending some people to prepare the queen’s remains for her brother. Arthur sent a silent prayer to the gods to watch over Oswell and protect him.

Somewhere in Essos - three years later, 284 AC.

Maekar Sand played in the village square with his friends. Maekar had known no other life than this small village. His father was a Westerosi, as was he.

Maekar didn’t remember his mama; she’d died when he was born.n He spoke the common tongue and Valyrian. His Papa taught him when he was not busy working in the village smithy.

Maekar noted a cloud of duty growing bigger and closer. Soldiers prehaps. Maekar paid no mind as he continued to play with his friends. Suddenly, there was yelling and screaming. 

“DOTHRAKI,, A man yelled in broken common tongue.

“Maekar”, Maekar’s father, Arthur, the village blacksmith, called to him.

“Papa, what’s happening?”

“Go into the forge, get into the cellar and stay there. Do not come out till I call for you, understand” Maekar nodded and ran to the forge. Doing as his father asked him.

Arthur stepped back into the forge. Grabbing Dawn from a chest he kept it in. Drawing the Ancestral Blade of his House. Arthur, ever the knight, charged into the fray. One of the vows he swore when he was knighted was to protect the innocent.

Maekar stayed hidden, but not where his father had told him to hide. The thundering of hooves was faint in the distance but soon grew louder and louder. 

Suddenly, there were horses and men everywhere. They were not like any soldiers Maekar had seen. They wore no armour, presumably. Their swords were different from Ryon’s father’s sword. 

Some men stood up as they fired bows and arrows from horseback. Where these Dothraki few men had screamed before Maekar’s father ushered him into the forge.

Men and women of the village, even children, fell to the arrows and swords of the Dothraki. Maekar’s papa was in the thick of it. Maekar watched as his father cut man after man down with his sword. The sword with a milk-colored blade.

Maekar watched as his father continued to fight. Two arrows struck him in the shoulder. But Arthur continued to fight. Another arrow, then a fourth, struck his father.

Maekar grabbed the dagger from the table near him. He kept the dagger close to him.

Maekar was unsure how long he had hidden with a dagger in hand. The screams died down after a while. Bile rose in Maekar’s throat. 

“Yer fought chek. Put zohhe yeri sword akka thirat.” The tall, tanned-skinned warrior stood over Maekar’s father. Who was kneeling and looking up? His sword was still in his hand. (You fought well. Put down your sword and live.

“Never. We don’t flee.” Maekar watched as his father made his final stand. Maekar felt red fill his vision as he stood from his hiding place. Dagger in hand, he ran from the forge.

Just as he left the forge, his father fell. He’d died a warrior with his sword in hand. Anger and rage filled Maekar’s young body as he let a snarl of anger running towards the tanned-skinned man, dressed from the waist down with a funny-shaped sword in hand.

The men who had attacked their village spoke in a language foreign to Maekar. They raised their weapons as Maekar charged at them.

“Maekar, stop.” Maekar stopped; the dagger fell from his grasp. His father was still alive. He was badly hurt. Losing a lot of blood

“Papa”

“Come here, my son.” Maekar knelt by his papa’s side. “I love you, son. I promised your mother I would protect and look after you. I will see her soon enough when I go to meet the Stranger.

Never forget what you are and who you are.”

“I love you, Papa,” Maekar cried.

“Do you speak the common tongue?” His papa addressed the man who had asked him to surrender. 

“Vazzo. I speak some of the common tongue, speak Andal,” Vazzo said in broken common tongue.

“My son. I promised his mother on her deathbed that I would protect and look after him. I only ask that you do right by the boy and look after him. Fulfil the promise I made but cannot keep. I go to meet my gods.” Maekar’s father asked the man called Vazzo.

“The boy will be cared for,” Vazzo replied in the common tongue.

“Thank you,” Maekar’s father smiled before he succumbed to his wounds. 

“Prepare Jin andal's khado; mae fought akka died ven jin warrior akka jif tikh buried ven ato” Vazzo spoke to a few of his men close to him. (Prepare the Andal's body; he fought and died as a warrior and should be buried as one.) Maekar understood a word or two at most. Was he to go with these men?

His father had entrusted him to this Vazzo. 

“Boy, you have a name.”

“Maekar,” Maekar answered Vazzo.

“Maekal. Your father entrusted you to me. I am a man of my word. You will be well cared for, Maekal…. I have two boys your age, Arro and Daekhovo. So you won’t be alone.” Vazzo’s common tongue was better than he let on.

Maekar numbly nodded, going to his father’s body. He took his father’s large, bloodied hand in his. He pulled the ring from his finger. The ring he always wore. 

The ring was too big for his small hands. He held the ring tightly in his left hand. Maekar watched as his father’s body was burned; he was alone in the world now, an orphan. These strange men who had fought his father and raided the village were taking him in.

The man, Vazzo, spoke in the tongues that Maekar didn’t understand. Vazzo had Maekar’s father’s sword brought with them. Vazzo lifted Maekar onto the back of his stallion. Vazzo climbed up behind Maker, urging his horse forward. 

Maekar’s future was uncertain in a strange land and among strangers who would become his people.

Chapter Text

Chapter 1

Illyrio Mopatis's Manse, Pentos, Essos 

299 AC

Daenerys Targaryen stood on the balcony of her rooms, looking down at the city of Pentos below them. Daenerys had dreamed many times of home. Westeros was where she was born six moons after her father was murdered by one of his Kingsguard, stabbed in the back.

Her good sister was forced to watch as her children were murdered, and then she was raped and then killed. Viserys ranted about it often enough.

They had been forced into exile after their mother had died birthing Daenerys. They’d had a normal life in Braavos, a house with a red door with lemon trees. 

That all changed when Daenerys was seven and Viserys was ten and four. Ser Willem Darry died from a short illness. The servants stole what little money they had and some of their mother’s jewellery. 

Viserys began to change after that. 

“Daenerys,” Dany flinched when she heard her elder brother’s voice.

“Daenerys,” He called again, his voice closer this time.

Daenerys turned and walked back into her chambers. The slaves/servants prepared a bath for her.

“Ah, there’s our bride-to-be.” Viserys carried a dress in his hands. “Look, a gift from Illyrio. Touch it. Go feel the fabric.” He spoke to Daenerys as if she were a child. “Isn’t he a gracious host?” They had been guests of the Spice Merchant for almost three years now.

“We’ve been guests here for almost three years. And he’s never asked us for anything.” 

“Illyrio’s no fool. He knows I won’t forget my friends. When I come into my throne,” Dany was not as naive as Viserys was to believe the people of Westeros, especially the nobles, would welcome them back with open arms.

Daenerys tried not to flinch when Viserys stripped her of her clothes. “You still slouch. Let them see you have a woman's body now.

“I need you to be perfect today. Can you do that for me? You don’t want to wake the dragon, do you?” 

“No,” Daenerys answered timidly, just wanting to be rid of Viserys. He made her skin crawl the way he looked at her. 

“When they write the history of my reign, sweet sister. They will say it began today.” Dany wanted to scream that he was no king, nor was he a dragon. He was a monster. 

Daenerys got into the scalding hot bath. “Princess, it’s too hot.” Daenerys couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread at meeting her soon-to-be husband.

A marriage that Illyrio had brokered. A Dotharki Khal. He spoke Valyrian and the Common Tongue, Illyrio had said. His name escaped Dany’s mind as she sat in the scalding hot bath.

Once the bathwater had grown cold. Daenerys stepped out of the bath. Servants and such came forward. Dressing the princess and preparing her for her meeting with her soon-to-be husband. 

Khal Maekal. 

A few hours later.

It was mid- to late afternoon when she stood with Viserys and Illyrio in the back of his manse, awaiting the arrival of Khal Maekal. Her husband-to-be had a large Khalasar of over 30,000 men. 

“Where is he?” Viserys demands to know like a petulant child rather than a king. 

“The Dothraki are not known for their punctuality, my king. Khal Maekal is on his way. His scout came a few hours ago. He will be here, my King.

The distant, faint sound of horses' hooves grew near. It grew louder the closer the horses came. Moments later. Seven riders appeared in the yard.

Daenerys’s eyes widened at the large white wolf that ran alongside the group of horses. The wolf was as big as the stallion Khal Maekal rode.

The horse was dark as the night sky. It was all black save for the moon-shaped marking on its forehead and one lone white sock on its back right leg.

 “Idde Khal Maekal,” Illryio began in Dotharki, switching to the common tongue. “May I present my honoured guests? Viserys of House Targaryen, the Third of his name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. He serves as the protector of the realm. and his sister, Princess Daenerys of House Targaryen.”

Maekar sat on his stallion, watching the Beggar King and his sister as Illyrio spoke to him. She was a pretty thing, even from where he sat on his stallion. Ghost huffed and rubbed his face against Maekar’s foot for pats.

“Do you see how long his braid is? He’s a Westerosi like us. He was taken by the Dothraki and raised as one. Now he’s just as savage as his people….. They say when a Dothraki is defeated in battle, he cuts off his hair to show the world his shame.

Khal Maekal has never been defeated. He will give me my crown and my throne, and in exchange, he gets you.” Daenerys’s skin crawled at her brother’s words.

“Stand up straight and show him exactly what he will be getting for a queen.”

Maekar observed the Targaryen siblings as he sat on his stallion. The horse was restless. He didn’t miss the girl’s flinching when her brother whispered something in her ear.

Daenerys Targaryen was a beauty. Maekar had never desired a woman as much as he did the girl who would be his bride if negotiations went well. He would have her as his Khaleesi.

“Come forward, my dear,” Illyrio beckoned her forward. 

Daenerys's scared purple eyes met those of the Khal. He had dark purple, almost black eyes that met hers. There was a kindness in his eyes. He was not what she envisioned; his skin was tanned, and his body was tattooed with scars and tattoos. Each scar and tattoo had a story to tell.

He was taller than Daenerys by well over a foot. His shoulders were thick and broad. A beard covered the lower half of his handsome face. He wore simple trousers with hardened leather shoulder armour. There was a dagger on his belt on one side, while his sword was an Arakh. But there was another blade strapped to his back, a greatsword.

The two gazed at one another for a time. Khal Maekal whispered something in Dotharki to his blood riders before they rode off back to Khalasar.

“Wait, where is he going?” Viserys yelled as he ran down the steps. Dany wished he would trip and fall to his death. Khal Maekal was not what she expected. 

“But he didn’t say anything. Did he like her?”

“Trust me, your Grace. We’d know if he didn’t like her,” Illyrio answered matter-of-factly.

Dany followed behind her brother and Illyrio as they walked the gardens of Illyrio’s manse.

“When will they be wed?”

“Soon. The Dotharki don’t stay in one place for long.” Illyrio answered. Daenerys had felt something when her soon-to-be husband’s eyes had met hers.

He may look like a savage, but there was kindness in his dark purple, almost black eyes.

“Soon, you will cross the Narrow Sea and take back your father’s throne.

The people drink secret toasts to you and cry out for their one true king.” Illyrio, at least to Daenerys, was full of shit. He should have been a bard instead of a merchant.

“Is it true the Dothraki lie with their horses or fuck anything with a cunt or hole?”

“I wouldn’t ask Khal Maekal that,” Illyrio cautioned.

 “Do you take me for a fool?” If the shoe fits, Viserys. Dany thought to herself. 

“I take you for a king. Kings lack the caution of the common man. My apologies if I’ve offended you, my king.”

“I know how to play a man like Mekal. I give him a queen, and he gives me an army.” Viserys scoffed.

“I don’t want to be his queen. I want to go home.”

“So do I want us all to go home. But to do that, we need an army. Maekal will give me my armies. To take back what they took from us.

So tell me, sweet sister, how do we go home?” 

“I don’t know.”

“With an army provides by  Khal Maekal, I would let his whole tribe fuck you. All 30,000 of his men and their horses, too, if it got me my crown and throne.” Unbeknownst to the Targaryen siblings. A white wolf sat not far away, watching, hidden in the shadows. His master was watching through his wolf’s eyes.

Maekar lay in his tent warging into his direwolf. Watching his soon-to-be bride and good brother. Viserys took him for a fool. Maekar was used to people underestimating him. They had been his whole life. 

Daenerys was to be his wife. Once they were wed, Maekar would make sure she was protected from her brother. His bloodriders would protect her, as would Ghost. Ghost turned and returned to camp.

(Maekar)

Chapter Text

Chapter 2

Pentos—the Essos

299 AC.

Khal Maekal and Daenerys were wed at sunrise two days later. The whole of Khal Maekal’s Khalasar was present. Dothraki weddings were an all-day affair lasting from sunrise to sunset. 

Maekar and Daenerys sat side by side on a wooden bench. Viersys and Illyrio sat close by, a little away from them. Maekar’s wolf lay at their feet. Every guest who came to present wedding presents and gifts did so, cautious of the Great Albino Wolf.

Its blood-red eyes seem to unnerv some. The drums continued to beat. Dothraki women from Maekal’s Khalasar danced. The Dothraki did everything under the sky. Fucking, fighting, and feasting. 

Two Dothraki began to fight over the one woman. It ended with the loser being disembowelled by the winner. The Dothraki were a brutal, savage people. They were her people now, it seemed.

Daenerys was taken aback when her newly married husband took her small hand in his large, calloused hand. Maekal was taller than Daenerys by a foot and three inches. Standing an imposing 6’5. 

He may be a Dothraki Khal, but there was a quietness and gentleness to him. Perhaps this marriage would not be so bad. She had protection from Viserys when he lost his temper.

Dany was surprised when Maekal leaned across, kissing her temple tenderly. Daenerys felt her brother’s heated gaze at them. 

“Kessa dōrī ōdrikagon ao arlī iā ilagon iā ondos va ao arlī. Iksā ȳgha lēda nyke,” Maekal whispered in Valyrian in Dany’s ear so softly she barely heard him. How had he known about Viserys and the times he had hurt her? (He will never harm you again or lay a hand on you again. You are safe with me.

“When will I meet with the Khal? We need to begin planning the evasion.”

Illyrio sighed, “Khal Maekal has promised you a crown, and you shall have it. But you must be patient, my King. The marriage between your sister and Khal Maekal must be consummated.

He needs to take her to Vaes Dothrak to present her to Dosh Khaleen; after that, if the omens favour war, there will be war. What is a few moons, a year or two at most?”

“I piss on Dothraki omens.” Viserys scoffed. “I’ve waited almost 18 years to get my throne back.”

Another fight broke out among Maekar’s men. A Dothraki wedding was considered a dull affair without three deaths. It seemed that Maekar and Daenerys’s wedding was anything but dull.

Viserys looked at Illyrio in wonder as he clapped as they dragged the dead man away. “A Dothraki wedding is considered a dull affair without three deaths. There have been two deaths already; I’d say this wedding will be anything but dull.”

The disgraced former Lord of Bear Island, Ser Jorah Mormont, approached the newly married couple. Books on Westeros in hand. Jorah did a double-take as he noticed the large white wolf with blood-red eyes lying at the newly married Khal and Khaleesi’s feet. 

A direwolf. The Sigil of House Stark. Jorah looked closer at the Khal. He was a Westerosi. His skin was pale yet tanned. His eyes were dark purple, almost black. But he had a strong resemblance to Lord Eddard Stark.

There had been talk of Stark lying with Ashara Dayne during the tournament at Harrenhal. The lad was certainly old enough, give or take a few moons. But there was another possibility. It was said that Stark’s sister Lyanan had died in childbirth.

The babe was stillborn. But there was the possibility that the child had survived. Varys would pay handsomely for this. A chance to clear his name and return to Westeros with honour and a pardon.

“Khal maekal, ishish jin, great stallion, akka mai bless yer ma jin thousand haj sons,” Jorah said in Dotharki, bowing his head. (Khal Maekal, may the Great Stallion and Mother bless you with a thousand strong sons.)

“I speak the Common Tongue, Andal. You have gifts for the Khalessi,” Maekar grunted. 

“Yes. A gift for the new Khalessi. Songs and Histories of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Thank you, Ser. Are you from Westeros?”

“Ser Jorah Mormont of Bear Island. I served your father for many years. I now hope to serve the rightful king.” Maekar watched Mormont with suspicion. Something felt off about Mormont. But there was another time and place for that. Today was his wedding day.

Mormont bowed his head once more and departed. Illyrio clapped his hands, beckoning for two of his slaves to bring forth a chest. Opening the chest to reveal three dragon eggs. One was deep green with golden swirls, another was pale cream with gold, and the third one was black with scarlet ripples.

“Dragon Eggs, Princess. From the Shadow Lands beyond Asshai. Age has turned them to stone, but their beauty still burns deep.” Daenerys picked up the green and golden egg. Dany swore she felt something inside the dragon egg move. They were warm in her hands, like they were alive or had awoken.

“Thank you, Magister.” Viserys glared at her with jealousy and envy. You are no dragon, Viserys.

Maekar spotted his head bloodrider and blood brother, Jhozzo. Jhozzo nodded to say that the preparation Maekar had asked him to make for Maekar and Daenerys’s wedding night was finished.

While the Dothraki believed everything should be done under an open sky, and they preferred to fuck their women from behind. Maekar wanted to do things right and get off to the right start with his marriage to Daenerys.

She was a virgin, and Maekar lost his virginity when he was thirteen. The sun was setting and getting low in the sky. It would be time to depart soon for their marriage to be consummated. 

Slowly, Maekar rose from his seat. Maekar held out his hand for Daenerys. She looked at his outstretched hand for a few moments before taking his large hand in her smaller one.

Maekar led the way as they walked through the crowds. Ghost trailed just slightly behind them. Jhozzo had come with their horses. A wedding gift from Maekar to his Khaleesi. 

His best mare. He named her Silverwing after one of Daenerys’s ancestor dragons. It seemed a fitting name for the mare he was gifting to his bride.

Daenerys was taken aback by the beautiful dapple grey mare that stood beside her. Maekal’s large black stallion.

“She’s beautiful. I don’t know the word for thank you in Dotharki.”

“There is no word for ‘thank you in Dotharki. Anna Athfiezar (my love). Your smile is thanks enough,” Maekar answered as he helped Daenerys onto the back of Silverwing.

Maekar mounted his stallion. 

“Make him happy. Or you’ll wake the dragon if you do,” Viserys hissed to Daenerys.

Ghost bared his teeth and growled at Viserys. No one threatened his master’s mate and lived to tell the tale.

Maekar clicked his tongue, urging his horse onwards. Daenerys followed her husband as they left the wedding party and rode off for their wedding night. There is no privacy among the Dothraki; they believe everything should be done under an open sky.

Dany was unsure how long they rode for. They crested the top of a hill. A makeshift camp had been prepared for them. A large campfire roared in front of a large tent set up for them. Daenerys was taken aback; she’d expected Maekal to take her like his men had taken the women during the wedding feast.

Her husband was a man full of surprises, it seemed. 

“You did this for me. Why?”

“You are my wife, a Khaleesi, and deserve for your first time to be special, you brother. He is not kind to you. I noticed the way you withdraw and flinch when he is around you. I meant what I said: he will never lay a finger on you again nor hurt you.

If he does, I will tear him limb from limb and let Ghost have what’s left of him,” Maekar declared. 

Daenerys felt her heart swell with love for her husband at his words. Viserys was her brother. And a small part of her still loved him for who he was before he changed. Daenerys felt bold enough to reach across and pull her husband's lips to hers.

The kiss was innocent at first, but it became more heated and passionate. It took all of Maekar’s self-control not to haul her off her horse and bend her over and fuck her here. No, she deserved better than that.

Tonight would be all about Daenerys. There would be time for that later. Maekar broke the kiss. He dismounted his horse. Helping Daenerys down from Silverwing. 

“I will tend to the horses. There’s food and wine in the tent.” Maekar kissed her gently. 

Maekar made quick work of unsaddling and hobbling the horses so they wouldn’t wander off. Ghost stayed close by the tent, guarding them. 

Daenerys nervously poured a goblet of wine for herself to calm her nerves. She was nervous. Viserys had hired a woman to teach her the ways of pleasure. 

Doreah was to be one of her handmaidens. ‘Love comes in at the eyes,’ she said to Daenerys. Was Maekal in love with her? They had only met three days ago and were married mere hours ago.

The way Maekal looked at her was not just lust; there was something deeper there. His protectiveness of her was not just his husbandly duties but something else. There had been a spark lit between them when they met three days ago.

Maekal entered the tent just moments later. He silently removed his weaponry. His great sword, Arakh, and dagger. Maekal stood to his full height. 

Dany’s eyes were transfixed on the nasty scar just over his heart. How a man had survived such a wound and lived to tell the tale was remarkable. But Maekla was no ordinary man.

Maekal’s eyes were black with lust as he stalked her like a wolf stalks its prey. Dany felt nervous once more as Maekal approached her. 

Maekal gently took the goblet of wine from her grasp, setting it aside as he took her in his strong arms. “You have nothing to be scared of from me. I will never hurt you. I swear.”

Maekar wrapped his strong, thick arms around Daenerys’s waist, bringing her flush against his strong body. His cock stirred to life, becoming erect in his pants. 

Daenerys felt her husband's hard cock pressed up against her stomach. She blushed from nerves as Maekal reached behind her. To untie the knot holding her dress in place.

Maekal stopped and looked at her as if seeking permission to continue. Daenerys trusted Maekal. A slight nod of the head was all he needed. Loosening the knot keeping her wedding dress in place. It fell to the floor.

Daenerys wore no small clothes underneath. Baring her naked body to her husband. Daenerys blushed under her husband's lustful gaze.

Her breasts were not large but small and perky. Maekal didn’t seem to mind that they were not as large as most women’s breasts. 

Daenerys shivered under Maekal's soft and gentle touch. His hand was rough against her bare skin. 

Maekal kissed her this time. Walking her back towards the makeshift bed made of furs and such. Gently, he lowered her to the makeshift bed. Daenerys removed Maekal’s shoulder armor, flinging it behind Maekal.

Maekar settled between Daenerys’s parted legs. Maekar loomed over her, placing his hands on either side of her face as he kissed her once more. Maekar worked his way down her neck, finding all her weak spots. Kissing down her collarbone. Paying attention to her tits before he continued south.

Daenerys froze from fear as Maekal placed his hand on her thigh. “It’s nothing painful, my moon. Only pleasure.”

Dany took a chance to trust Makeal. He moved to lie between her parted thighs. What was he doing? Daenerys jumped slightly when she felt her husband’s hot breath close to her cunt. 

“Oh, qogralbar,” Daenerys moaned in Valyrian when Maekal licked her cunt from bottom to top. She ran her hands through his dark hair. Daenerys noticed something she’d never seen before. He had three streaks of blonde or perhaps silver in his hair. (Oh, fuck.)

Maekar pushed one finger, then a second and third. Working them in tandem with his tongue. Daenerys cried out in Valyrian as Maekar sucked on her clit. Gods, whatever he was doing to her…Daenerys had never felt anything like it. 

Her own fingers paled in comparison to Maekal’s long, thick fingers inside her at that moment. 

Daenerys cums with a scream loud enough, perhaps, to be heard back in Pentos or across the Narrow Sea. Maekal licked his fingers clean. Maekar rose from where he lay between Dany’s parted legs. 

He removed the last of his clothes. Daenerys's eyes widened when she caught her first glimpse of her husband's cock for the first time. He was very well endowed, or perhaps blessed by the gods.

His cock was long and thick. Upturned slightly to the left. It leaked, wept precum, and stood tall and proud. Dany gulped as her husband’s large cock swung back and forth between his meaty thighs as he walked back to their marital bed.

Maekal climbed back between her legs. Maekar kissed her once again. They kissed for a while before Maekar flipped them over so Daenerys was on top. She looked at him in surprise.

He held her by the waist as she straddled him. “Take my cock and rub the head between your folds,” Maekar instructed.

Daenerys, blindly, did as Maekal asked. She gasped when she felt the head of his cock drag through her fold. “Slowly lower yourself all the way down.

Maekal held her steady as Dany slowly sank down on her husband’s cock. There was a slight burn as he stretched her cunt as she took him inch by inch till she bottomed out.

Maekal bent his legs behind her. Taking her hands in his. Maekal sat up, kissing away the tears as Dany felt a hot throbbing pain as Maekal’s cock broke her hymen.

Once the pain subsided with Maekal’s instructions. Daenerys began to move. Riding her husband’s cock. Maekal fucked up into her slowly and gently, allowing Daenerys time to adjust to his cock inside her.

They soon found a steady pace that suited them both. After a time, sweat covered their bodies as they made love for the first time.

Maekar was getting close; his balls were beginning to tighten. Daenerys threw her head back and screamed in Valyrian as she cum on his cock. Maekar grunted as he spilled inside her a few moments later. 

Outside, Ghost threw his head to the sky and howled loudly. His master and his mate had mated and mated for life. On the other side of the Narrow Sea. Five other wolves howled as well. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 3

Pentos—the Essos

299 AC.

Daenerys woke content in her husband's arms, their first morning together as man and wife. They made love a second time on their wedding night. Dany observed her husband as he slept. His hair was free of its braids.

It was almost as long as Daenerys’s. Dany aimlessly ran her fingers over Maekal’s broad, scarred, and tattooed chest. 

“How are you feeling, Anna Athfiezar?” Maekar's voice was rough and thick with sleep still. His dark purple eyes, in certain lights, looked to be black.

“A little sore”

“That’s to be expected, the morning after one’s first time,” Maekar pulled Dany closer to him. Dany never felt safer and more loved than in her husband’s strong arms.

The Khal and his new Khaleesi shared chaste kisses on their first morning as husband and wife. The kisses soon turned more passionate and heated. Maekar growled as he flipped them over so he was on top.

His long, thick cock was fully erect and weeping precum. Maekar didn’t move till Daenerys gave him a brief nod of the head. Maekar took his cock in hand, rubbing the head of his cock through Dany’s sopping wet fold.

He slowly pushed inside her inch by inch. Dany flinched a little at some tenderness. Maekar stopped once he was fully inside her. Giving Dany time to adjust to his cock inside her tight cunt.

She squeezed his shoulder, signalling him to move. Maekar set a gentle yet hard, rough pace. Dany dug her nails into her husband’s back as they made love. Drawing a little blood, but neither cared.

They got caught up in the passion of their lovemaking. Maekar grunted as Daenerys’s cunt tightened around his cock, cumming mere moments before Maekar spilled inside her. He withdrew his softening cock and lay on his back, catching his breath.

“We don’t have to go back to the Khalasar right away.”

“No, we can wait a few more days before going back," Maekar agreed, pulling Daenerys to him.

Kingsroad, 299 AC

They’d been on the road south for some days now. Ned’s mind had been on Bran. But Lyanna was also on his mind a lot these days. Benjen had never believed the story of the babe dying with Lyanna on the birthing bed.

Oswell Whent disappeared soon after they arrived in Starfall. Eddard’s heart was broken once more. Ashara, who held his heart. Had died giving birth to his son William.

The boy survived and remained with his mother’s family in Dorne. Ned made no secret of his existence. Asking Robert to legitimise him as a Dayne. Vorian Dayne—Ashara’s older brother—wrote to him periodically. William was a knight now in the service of House Martell.

Benjen had searched high and low in Essos for Arthur Dayne and Lyanna’s child. Benjen learned that Dayne had died three years after the Rebellion. The Dothraki had raided the village they were in.

The boy named Maekar was taken by the Dothraki. He’d be ten and eight if he lived. Benjen had returned to the North after ten and four years of searching. Benjen had settled down and wed Alessa Umber, one of Greatjon Umber’s daughters.

“Gods, this is country,” Robert said, turning back and walking back to where Ned sat. “I have half a mind to leave them all behind and keep going.” Robert sat back down.

“Half a mind to go with you,” Ned uttered.

“What do you say? You and I on the Kingsroad, swords at our sides, a couple of tavern wenches to warm our beds tonight." Robert asked between bites.

“You should have asked me twenty years ago.”

“There were wars to fight and women to marry. I never had a chance to be young.” Robert broke up the piece of chicken he was eating.

“I recall a few chances.” Ned cracked a smile, rubbing his beard.

Robert wheezed with laughter. “There was that one girl. Oh, what was her name, that common girl of yours? Becca, with her great big tits, you bury your face in.”

"Bessie, and she was one of yours,” Ned corrected.

“Bessie. Thank the Gods for Bessie and her tits." Robert chuckled, reminiscing about the nights he’d spent with Bessie and her tits. “What was yours called, Elena or Sara? Your bastard’s mother.”

"Ashara!" Ned uttered, looking away. Memories of finding Lyanna dead in that Tower of Childbirth came flashing back into his mind.

"Ashara, that’s it. If fate had been kinder to us both, we would both be wed to the women we love and still love.”

“What good does dragging the past do, Robert? She’s dead; let her rest in peace.” Eddard looked away uncomfortably.

There was a slight flash of anger in his grey eyes. “If I weren’t your king, I would have sworn you would have hit me already.”

“The worst thing about your coronation. I’ll never get to hit you again." Ned changed the subject.

“Trust me, that’s not the worst thing.” Robert unrolled the scroll he’d been given last night, handing it to Ned. “There was a rider in the night.”

“Daenerys Targaryen has wed some Dothraki horse lord. What of it?" Ned rolled up the scroll, putting it back on the table. “Should we send her a wedding gift?”

“A knife, a sharp one. With a good man to wield it.”

"She is little more than a child,” Ned argued. 

“And soon enough, that child will spread her legs and start breeding."

“Tell me we’re not speaking of this." Ned will never forget the sight of Prince Rhaegar’s widow and children wrapped up, their bodies butchered. Little Rhaenys Targaryen was stabbed half a hundred times. Aegon Targaryen was still a babe at Elia Martell’s breast. His head caved in so badly that it was unrecognisable. And Elia, God's Elia Martell, was raped and then cleaved in half by the greatsword of Ser Gregor Clegane, Tywin Lannister's mad dog.

“It’s unspeakable to you. What her father did to your father and brother was unspeakable. What Rhaegar Targaryen did to your sister, the woman I loved, was unspeakable. I’ll kill every Targaryen I get my hands on.”

“You can’t get your hands on this one, can you?" Ned’s temper flared; he was not speaking of Daenerys Targaryen. But Maekar Targaryen, his nephew, who may or may not live

“This Khal Maekal, it’s said he has a hundred thousand men in his horde.” Ned’s ear pricked up. Maekal/Maekar—the names were similar, and his heart beat fast. Benjen had been right; the lad was still alive. 

“Even a million Dothraki are no threat to the realm. As long as they remain on the other side of the Narrow Sea. They have no ships, Robert,” Ned argued.

"There are still those in the Seven Kingdoms who call me Usurper. That Targaryen boy crosses with a Dothraki horde at his back. The scum will join him.”

“He will not cross. And if by chance he does, we’ll throw him back into the sea,” Ned argued, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

“There’s a war coming, Ned. I don’t know when or who we’ll be fighting. But it’s coming.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 4

The Dothraki Sea—299 AC.

A week had passed since Daenerys and Maekar had been wed in Pentos. The newly married Khal and Khaleesi spent five days consummating their marriage in privacy, a few miles from where they were wed and held their wedding feast.

A total of seven died during their wedding feast. A Dothraki wedding was considered a dull affair without three deaths. So their wedding feast had surpassed that.

A day was made for preparation for them to depart, beginning the long journey to Vaes Dothrak. They left their encampment on the edge of Pentos earlier that day. Ghost stuck close to Maekar and Daenerys’s side as they rode.

Maekar had assigned three blood riders to protect Daenerys much the same as his own blood riders did. Aggo, Jhogo, and Rakharo had grown up alongside Maekar; he knew and trusted them to protect his Khaleesi. 

Ghost was unofficially Daenerys’s protector as well. The direwolf silently followed his master’s new wife everywhere. 

They rode ahead of the Khalasar. They eagerly sought solitude. There was no privacy among the Dothraki. 

“It’s breathtaking,” Daenerys gasped in wonder at the vast plains before them. There were no roads, villages, towns, or cities before it. There was scarcely a tree, nor hills or mountains before them.

“You should see it in the full bloom of summer or spring.” Maekar gazes solely on Daenerys. Maekar moved his stallion close to Dany’s mare. “In the shadow lands of Asshai, there is ghost grass as far as the eye can see, they say.

My people believe that one day the whole world will be covered in the Shadow Grass; the world will end when it does.”

“Do you remember anything from before you were taken in by the Dotharki?”

“My mother is a mystery to me. My father spoke of her sometimes. I think speaking of her was painful to him. She died the day I was born. He never really spoke much about the past. We left Westeros after the war ended. I was born in my father’s homeland of Dorne.

My mother—he never said who she was or where she was from. That he would tell me everything when I was older. Only that she loved me from when she found she was carrying me till her last breath when she died after I was born.

All I have left of him are vague memories from a lifetime ago, his ring, and his sword,” Maekar answered.

“I was reading the books Ser Joarh gave me on the histories of the Seven Kingdoms. There was mention of the sword: your father’s sword, perhaps. Dawn, they called it. 

It’s the ancestral sword of House Dayne of Starfall, descendants of the Kings of the Torrentine who descended from the First Men.”

A comfortable silence fell between them. “You should eat and drink, Anna Athfiezar.” Maekar reached into his saddlebags, bringing out salted and dried horse meat.

“Thank Maek.” Dany took the dried horse meat and waterskin from Maekar. 

“Your hands will be raw, and your legs as well by the end of the day. Come here.” Maekar unrolled the hand wraps on his hands. Taking Dany’s smaller hands in his, he wrapped the hardened leather around her delicate hands.

“Your hands are not used to riding a horse, nor are your legs. They will be rubbed raw by the saddle.” Maekar had an old pair of his riding leathers on hand. 

Maekar and Daenerys rode at the front of the Khalasar as they rode till they made camp an hour before sunset. The makeshift came to life in next to no time. Maekal dismounted his horse first.

Helping Daenerys off Silverwing. The hand wraps and riding leather Maekar had given her had helped tremendously. Dany's legs were not as raw as they would have been without the riding leathers; the same for her hands.

Daenerys's handmaidens came forth quickly. Doreah, Irri, and Sefi. Tending to her till Maekar came to her later. Maekar noted the look of disgust and sneer on his good brother’s face.

Maekar would keep Viserys on a short leash if he laid a hand on Daenerys; he would pay. Maekar meant what he told Daenerys on their wedding night, that he would protect her if her brother hurt or laid a hand on her.

Maekar would tear him limb from limb and allow Ghost to have what was left. The albino direwolf silently made his way to Maekar and Daenerys’s tent. Lying just outside, silently watching and guarding his master’s mate.

Maekar had Ghost since he was fourteen. He’d rescued Ghost as a pup from trappers or slavers. Slavery went hand in hand with the Dothraki. 

“Aggo, Jhogo, Rakharo, Jhozzo, Bataego, Ezollo Draezzo,” Maekar called his and Daenerys's blood riders to him.

“Qoy anni qoy,” they answered (Blood of My Blood).

“Keep at tih she akat andals hazze.  Watch Jin Ato Ma Silver Noreth Akka Reaven Eyes, especially. Fin mae hurts che lays jin hand she khaleesi, kill mae” Maekar nodded to where Viserys and Jorah Mormont stood conversing. (Keep an eye on the two andals there. Watch the one with silver hair and purple eyes, especially. If he hurts or lays a hand on the Khaleesi, kill him.)

“We’re still not far from Pentos, your Grace. Master Illyrio has extended his hospitality. Perhaps you would be more comfortable there.”

“I have no interest in hospitality or comfort. All I want is my crown and throne. I will stay with Maekal and the rest of his savage horde till he gives me the crown he promised me.” Viserys removed his gloves.

“As you wish, Your Grace.”

“Tell me why it was you fled the North and why Ned Stark wanted your head, Mormont,” Viserys questioned. “Buying from a slaver.”

“I caught some poachers on my lands and sold them to a slaver trader.”

“Once I am king, under my reign, a man will not be punished for such nonsense. Stick with me, Mormont; when I am crowned king, you will be handsomely rewarded.” Viserys smiled with a snake-like smile before slithering off.

Maekar remained outside with his blood riders and other men of the Khalasar.

“Mae makes you happy, brother,” Jhozzo said as they sat drinking fermented mare’s milk. (She makes you happy, brother.)

“Mae tat,” Maekar answered with a smile on his face. (She does.)

“Perhaps anha tikh tikh blessed ki jin great stallion akka mai tat ezat anna zhorre jalan akka shieraki ato asshekh ale” Jhozzo drank deeply from his horn of mare’s milk. (Perhaps I will be blessed by the Great Stallion and the Mother to find my own moon and stars one day, too.)

“Perhaps,” Maekar downed the last of his mare’s milk. He slapped Jhozzo on the shoulder and headed for his tent.

Ghost was now inside the tent with Daenerys. Who fed him scraps?

“You spoil him. You keep feeding him at this rate. He will be a fat, lazy wolf and no use to anyone,” Maekar said jokingly. 

Ghost had a look on his face that looked like he was offended by his master’s words.

“Who is this boy? Who’s the sweetest boy? He’s not fat; he’s just big-boned.”

“Big boned, sure. Come on, you out.” Maekar opened the flap of the tent. Ghost huffed in annoyance and trotted out of the tent.

Daenerys and Maekar met each other halfway in the tent. The dress Daenerys wore was a gift from Illyrio. It was a beautiful dress, but it would look better on the floor.

Maekar bent down and wrapped his thick, muscular arms around Dany’s waist. Picking her up. Dany wrapped her legs and arms around Maekar’s hips and neck.

Dany worked at loosening his braids. She loved his hair and running her hands through his long, curly locks. Maekar placed her gently down on the furs of their bed.

Maekar lowered the straps of her dress. Letting almost see through the silk dress pool at her stomach. Dany removed Maekar’s weapons. Throwing them haphazardly behind them somewhere in the tent.

The kisses Makear and Daenerys shared were heated and passionate. Eager to get the other naked. Maekar hiked up the skirt of Daenerys’s dress while Daenerys worked on the ties of Maekar’s breeches.

Maekar lifted his hips. As Dany pushed his pants down. Maekar’s long, thick cock slapped heavily against Dany’s stomach. Maekar got to his feet. He stepped out of his pants and boots.

He pulled Dany to sit up. He pulled the dress over her head, flinging it behind them in the pile of clothes scattered across the floor of their tent.

“I want to try something different tonight. As much as I love it when you are sweet and tender with me, Anna Shekh (My Sun). I want you to take me like a wolf does its mate. I don’t want you to be gentle,” Dany said nervously, as much as she loved Maekal for being tender and gentle with her when they made love. Dany wanted to try something different that night.

Maekar nodded as he kissed her again. He grasped Daenerys around the waist. Flipping her over onto her hands and knees. Maekar knelt over her. Moving her neck to kiss her from behind.

Maekar broke the kiss after a time. Kissing his way down her back, slapping her ass with his large hands. He grabbed both cheeks with his hands. Diving headfirst into her already sopping wet cunt.

“Oh Kessa, Kessa. KESSA,” Daenerys screamed in Valyrian as Maekar continued to feast on her cunt like it was a fine meal or his last meal. Her husband was too good at pleasuring her with just his tongue or his fingers.

Daenerys cums screaming in Valyrian and a little Dothraki she’d picked up from Maekar’s teaching. 

Maekar licked his fingers clean. Grasping his painful, hard cock, weeping precum. Daenerys shuddered with pleasure at the feeling of her husband’s cockhead running up and down through her folds.

Maekar was balls deep inside her in one strong thrust. Maekar waited till Dany was ready for him to move. She had asked him to be rough. But Maekar would never do anything to hurt her. He would be rough, but not so rough that he would hurt her.

Maekar’s large hands grasped Daenerys's wide hips as Dany reached a hand back and squeezed his left hand, signalling for him to move.

Maekar fucked into her steadily and hard. Dany gasped. Clutching the furs in her hands. As her husband fucked into her with his large, long, thick cock.

His cock was hitting a place inside Dany that she hadn’t known existed till their first time together on their wedding night a week ago. 

“Kessa, paktot konīr. Oh, qogralbar. Qogralbar nyke harder, valzȳrys. Kessa, kessa. Aōha orvorta feels sīr deep iemnȳ nyke. Oh, qogralbar,” Daenerys babbled in Valyrian as Maekar fucked her harder and faster. Her small yet perky tits swayed as Maekar fucked her. (Yes, right there. Oh fuck. Fuck me harder, husband. YES, YES. Your cock feels so deep inside me. Oh fuck.

His balls clapped against her cunt as they fucked like wolves. Maekar gently laid Daenerys’s upper body down on the furs. Grasping her hips, raising her cunt and ass higher in the air, and changing the angle his cock was penetrating her cunt.

Daenerys saw stars with the new angel, Maekar, fucking her from behind like wolves.

“Let them hear you. Sweet girl. Let them hear how well their Khal fucks their Khalessi. Howl like a wolf, sweet girl,” Maekar whispered in her ear as he fucked her.

Daenerys did just that. The volume of her moans and screams became louder. The whole Khalasar could hear how well their Khal was fucking and pleasuring their Khaleesi. 

Sweat covered their bodies as they continued to make love. Maekar’s balls were beginning to tighten. Makear wanted Daenerys to cum before he did. Reaching between them. Maekar rubbed her clit as they continued to fuck like wolves.

“Oh, qogralbar,” Daenerys screamed as she came on her husband’s long, thick cock. Maekar was not far behind, spilling his seed into her a few moments later.

Maekar rested his head against Daenerys’s back as he caught his breath. Wrapping an arm around Dany’s front. Maekar pulled them both back to lie on the furs of their bed. Maekar’s now flaccid cock slipped from Daenerys’s cunt.

They lay content in each other's arms. It wasn’t love yet, but it was starting to be. It had been love at first sight for them when they met in Illyrio’s Manse almost a week and a half ago.

Sunspear—Dorne

299 AC.

Ser William Dayne had been in service to House Martell since he earned his spurs at ten and five. William had all his life wanted nothing more than to be like his Uncle Arthur. The Sword of the Morning.

When William was still a babe. Arthur had fled Westeros. No one had heard from him for many years. There had been rumours and hearsay about where he’d fled or why.

William was lucky to be squire for the Red Viper himself. Prince Oberyn Martell. William now himself had a squire, his cousin, the heir to Starfall. Edric.

Edric was the only son of William’s Uncle Voriana and his late lady wife, Nera. William wondered why he’d been summoned to Prince Doran’s chambers.

The Prince of Dorne’s health had been steadily failing over the years. Eventually, Princess Arianne would become the Princess of Dorne. Unlike the rest of Westeros.

In Dorne, the eldest child, regardless of whether they are male or female. 

William had lived his whole life in Dorne. He’d often wondered about his Northern family. His father was the Warden of the North. Eddard Stark. William had five younger half-siblings. Three brothers and two sisters.

According to his mother’s diaries, they had planned to wed. But the Rebellion changed everything. His father married Catelyn Tully instead. William was born a bastard and later legitimised by King Robert.

The Baratheon, Arryn, and Lannister names were not well-liked nor loved in Dorne. After what happened to Prince Doran and Oberyn’s sister, Princess Elia, and her children, Rhaenys and Aegon, during the sacking of King’s Landing.

The Old Falcon had died a few moons earlier. A new Hand was picked. William’s father. Lord Eddard Stark. A tournament was being held in King’s Landing in his honour.

Perhaps William could get some leave from Prince Doran to attend. Perhaps meet his father and half sisters for the first time. His oldest half sister, Sansa, was promised to the Crown Prince Joffrey Baratheon.

William was in the training yard with Edric when he was summoned to Prince Doran’s solar.

“My Prince, you called for me.” William bowed his head as he entered.

“Ser William. You have served House Martell well these last three years. I have an important task for you. A messenger arrived from Pentos. From Magister Illyrio Mopatis. Brokering a marriage between House Martell and Viserys Targaryen.

I am entrusting you to take this to Pentos. My reply to Illyrio Mopatis. I will send ten men to escort you.“

“You honour me, my Prince. I will take this message to Pentos. With your permission, I will take my squire with me. I would like to try to locate my uncle in the Essos if possible.” William took the scroll.

“Very well. If you do not return within a year. I will send someone to look for you both. I wish you good fortune in the Wars to come.”

“Thank you, my Prince.” William bowed before leaving.

Edric was still in the training yard when he returned. “What did Prince Doran want, cousin?”

“We are going to Pentos. We leave at first light.” That was all William said.

William spent that afternoon and some of the night packing for their trip to Pentos and the Essos. 

A ship was waiting for them at the docks. Edric peppered him with endless questions as to why they were going to Pentos and the Essos for a time. They left the docks at first light.

It would be a long voyage to Pentos. 

William soon grew tired of Edric’s endless questions on their sixth day at sea. 

“Prince Doran has tasked me with delivering a scroll to a spice merchant in Pentos,” William answered. “And if we have time, we will look for Uncle Arthur.”

“Do you think he’s still alive, Will? It’s been years, and not one word from him in almost 18 years.” Edric questioned.

“I don’t know, Ned.”

Little did William know how much this trip to Pentos would change his life. Finding his long-lost family and perhaps the love of his life.

 Ser William Dayne: son of Eddard Stark and Ashara Dayne.  Jhozzo head Blood Rider to Khal Maekal (Maekar) and Blood Brother. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 5

The Dothraki Sea—299 AC.

Maekar and Daenerys had been wed for just over two moons now. They had been riding for a little over seven  weeks for Vaes Dothrak. For the first time in her life, Dany truly felt loved, safe, and protected.

She had found a sense of belonging among the Dothraki. Particularly Maekal. Dany loved waking up in her husband’s strong arms. She was safe from Viserys and his foul temper.

Her blood riders were never far away if Maekal was not with her. Ghost was constantly at her side, a silent shadow. Ser Jorah had said Viserys was becoming more and more impatient and volatile. 

Dany had noted a few changes in her body over the last few days. Her sense of smell was stronger, and her breasts had been tender the last few days. It was too early to tell if her moon’s blood was late. 

They’d been together multiple times a day since they were wed two moons ago. Daenerys placed a hand over her stomach, praying the gods would make her womb quicken with Maekal’s seed.

Daenerys and Maekal rode at the head of the Khalasar, their blood riders behind them. Ghost ran alongside them. His head came up to Dany’s knee on Silverwing’s back. 

Dany had been laughing at something Maekal said when she felt dizzy, and the world began to spin. Her stomach lurched like a ship in a rough storm at sea. 

“Anna jalan akka shieraki, hash yer alright?” Maekar asked, concerned. (My moon and stars, are you alright?)

“I’m fine; I just need some air.” She answered in the common tongue. “Can we stop for a while?”

“We will stop for a while, my love. Go rest.” Maekar leaned across, kissing her temple before he turned his horse, barking orders in Dotharki to stop. They would be resting for a while on orders of the Khalessi.

Dany turned Silverwing and rode off the path. She stopped when she came to a clearing. Dismounting, she leaned heavily against Silver’s side as her head began to spin once more.

Dany's stomach lurched worse when she was on solid ground as opposed to when she was on horseback. What she’d had breaking her fast with Maekal that morning came back up. God, she had never felt so ill. 

Daenerys found a rock to sit on. Her head had stopped spinning, and her stomach settled a little after she sat down and ate some dried horse meat jerky. 

Dany didn’t need to miss her moon's blood to suspect she was with child. The healer woman among the Khalasar would confirm Dany’s suspicion that she was with child.

Daenerys looked up briefly at hoofbeats behind her. Perhaps it was Maekal who came to check on her, or one of her blood riders, or perhaps even Jorah Mormont.

Dany’s heart lurched as Viserys came charging through the undergrowth on his horse, blade drawn. Once, Daenerys was scared of him. Now Daenerys had fire in her belly and the strength to stand up to him. Maekal had given her a Valyrian steel dagger he’d acquired years before for protection.

“You dare give commands to me… TO ME.” Viserys sounded like a petulant child who’d had his favourite toy taken away from him. “You do not command the dragon. I AM LORD OF THE SEVEN KINGDOMS.”

Daenerys pulled the dagger Maekal had given her.

“You draw steel on your king,” Viserys raged. “I am the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms. I don’t take orders from savages or their sluts.”

Once, Viserys's words would have hurt her. But not now. With Maekal’s love, he’d given her the strength to stand up for herself.

Before Daenerys could say anything, a blur of white fur appeared. Viserys screamed as Ghost sank his fangs deeper into his hand. Viserys's sword dropped to the ground with a dull clang. 

Viserys had little time to react or say anything. There was a crack of a whip. He was being dragged backwards. Maekal appeared with his blood riders and Daenerys’s blood riders beside him.

Maekal was the one who held the whip currently wrapped around Viserys’s throat.

“What do you want to do with him?” Maekal asked. His dark purple eyes were black with rage and anger.

“Please don’t hurt him.”

“I made a promise to you that he would never hurt you or touch you again. I intend to keep that promise. Brother or not, he needs to learn respect. I would say to take his ear for him to learn respect. He needs to be punished,” Maekar answered. His voice was dripping with anger.

“Please, Maekal, he’s my brother.”

“I won’t kill him, just teach him a lesson.” Maekal loosened the whip around Viserys’s throat.

“Mormont, kill these Dotharki dogs and that bitch of a slut,” Viserys whined as he got to his feet. “I order you as your king.”

Jorah Mormont said nothing, sharing a look with Maekar. 

“Take mae”, Maekar ordered in Dotharki, dismounting his stallion. Rakharo and Bataego took hold of Viserys. (Take Him)

“I won’t kill you this time. But if you dare lay a hand on or threaten my wife again. I will not be so forgiving.” Maekal growled in the common tongue. 

“Cut mae shirt. Jin loy lashes ma orvik mae ishish learn mae lesson.” Maekar removed the whip from across his shoulders. (Cut his shirt. A few lashes with the whip, and he may learn his lesson.

“No, let go of me. Dany, please. Dany” Viserys pleaded as Rakaro tore the back of Viserys’s shirt. 

“The Khal can not let him go unpunished,” Jorah murmured.

“You made your bed, Viserys, lie in it,” Maekar said mockingly.

The air was still before. WHOOSH… CRACK!. Viserys cried out in pain as Maekal whipped him. Maekar cracked the whip on Viserys’s back several more times. 

Maekar moved to stand in front of Viserys. “This is your only warning, good brother. Touch or threaten my wife again, and I will not be so forgiving.

Take his horse and clothes and make him walk behind the Khalasar. See him for what he is. He is no king, just a coward and a bully. Let them see his shame. For the Dothraki, there is no greater shame than to walk behind a Khalasar. Without a horse or his clothes or weapons.”

Maekar placed his whip back on his saddle. He ignored Viserys as he helped Dany back up onto her horse.

“Viserys will not forget this.”

“Let him remember. I meant what I said when I promised you he would never hurt or lay a hand on you again. I only spared him for you. But next time, I may not be so obliging.” Maekar answered, mounting his stallion.

Viserys was stripped of his clothes and weapons. Rakaro bound Viserys's hand with a length of rope.

“Walk,” Rakaro ordered in the common tongue as he dragged Viserys behind his horse.

Dothraki Camp - Several Hours.

The Dotharki midwives had confirmed Daenerys’s suspicions that she was with child. Dany was overjoyed at the news. Viserys had come stumbling into camp, dragged behind Rakaro’s horse a few hours after they made camp.

Healers were sent to tend to his wounds. Dany couldn’t wait to tell Maekal the news that he was to be a father. She asked for a few goats to be butchered. Aggo & Jhogo did as she asked.

Maekal had been delayed coming to their tent that night. A spread was laid out for them when Maekar came into the tent. Ghost was in the corner, snoring softly, having already eaten.

“Are you feeling any better than earlier?” Maekar asked in the common tongue as he removed his weaponry, setting it down on the side of the tent. He still wore a dagger on his hip.

“Better. The midwives told me why I have been so ill the last few days, among other things.” Dany stood on her tiptoes kissing Maekar. Taking his large hand in hers, she put it on her still flat stomach. That would change in the weeks and months ahead.

“Truly,” Maekar uttered. 

“Yes, truly,” Dany confirmed with a smile on her face as she placed her smaller hand over Maekar’s on her stomach.

“A Blessing from the Great Stallion.” Maekar hadn’t dared to hope for Daenerys to be with child this soon. It was not a surprise to him. They hadn’t spent a night apart since they were wed, and he’d spill his seed into her multiple times a day, more often than not.

Maekar picked Daenerys up, walking over to their bed made of furs. There would be time to eat later. No,w Makear felt like celebrating the news he was to be a father.

Maekar made slow, tender love to his wife at the news he was to be a father. They had only been wed a few moons. But Maekar knew he was in love with Daenerys. Their love had burned hot and hard from the day they met.

“I think it’s a boy,” Danenerys murmured against Maekar’s scarred and tattooed chest. Kissing one of his many scars.

“How do you know?”

“I just know; perhaps call it mother’s intuition.” Dany lifted her head.

“The Dosh Khaleen will be able to tell if it’s a boy or a girl you carry. With the Stallion Heart Ceremony. Blades are forbidden in Vaes Dotharki. A pregnant Khaleesi must consume a stallion’s heart.

If she eats the heart whole, and doesn’t choke or gag. Then it’s a son she carries, but if the Khaleesi does either of those things. The babe will be deformed, or it’s a girl the Khaleesi carries.” Maekar explained.

“If it’s a girl. I would like to name it Rhaella after my mother.”

“Son or Daughter, I don’t care as long as you are both healthy; that is the main thing. I do like the name Lyanna. I don’t know why. Perhaps it was my mother’s name. I remember my father saying that name a few times, mostly in sadness.” Lyanna. Maekal’s mother shared the same name as the woman her brother had kidnapped. Perhaps it was purely a coincidence that the woman her elder brother had kidnapped and Maekal’s mother shared the same name.

“If it’s a boy, I like the name Aemon.”

“Maekar after his father.” Daenerys looked at Maekar in surprise. 

“Maekar is a Targaryen name.”

“Maekal is my Dotharki name. Maekar was the name my mother and father gave me.” Maekar explained.

“Maekar and Aemon are good, strong names for a Khalakka.”

“Avy jorrāelan, ñuha hūra se qēlossās” Maekar said in Valyrian. (I love you, my moon and stars.) 

Tears sprang in Daenerys’s eyes at Maekar’s words of love. He loved her…… “Avy jorrāelan tolī, maekar” (I love you too, Maekar)

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I hate to ask, but I'm a bit of a bind about what to do about Ned. When I started writing this, I originally planned for Ned to die the same way as he does in both book and show canon. Now I'm not so sure what to do with him. I am debating whether to keep Ned alive and somehow meet Maekar later on, or if he dies as canon dictates.  Should Ned still die as canon or should he stay alive?. The next chapter is in the works and will be out tomorrow or the day after at the latest.

Chapter Text

Thanks everyone who left feedback on the previous Author's note. Ned will survive and meet Maekar later on. I'm rewriting chapter 6 again. The war of the five kings will happen not to the degree of canon. So no Red Wedding. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 6

Winterfell, the North

299 AC.

Benjen Stark sat, breaking his fast with his nephew Robb, his youngest nephew Rickon, and his twin daughter and son Lyarra and Rodrik. Bran was still confined to his bed. The fall he suffered a few moons ago had left him paralysed.

Lyarra sat in Benjen’s lap as they ate. The direwolves lay in various places around the Great Hall. Lady and Nymeria had remained in the North when Ned had gone south with Sansa and Arya to become Hand of the King to Robert Baratheon.

Alessa was bedridden as well on Maester Luwin’s orders. Her pregnancy was taking its toll on her. Benjen and Alessa had married later in life. When she had been pregnant with Rodrik and Lyarra. The pregnancy had been a lot easier on Alessa. Though their twin son and daughter’s birth was anything but easy.

Rodrik and Lyarra’s birth took its toll on Alessa. Benjen and Alessa had both agreed that three children were enough; Benjen would not risk killing his wife for the sake of more children.

Nymeria placed her head on Benjen’s knee. Giving him pleading eyes for scraps of his breakfast. Benjen feeds a piece of bacon to the direwolf under the table.

The door to the Great Hall opened with a bang as a servant came running towards their table. “Lord Benjen, Lord Benjen.”

“Mikal, what is it?” Benjen? asked the out-of-breath boy.

“Lady Alessa. Her waters have broken, and she's in labour. Maester Luwin and Old Nan are tending to her. Maester Luwin asked him to tell you,” Mikal said in between breaths.

“Go, Uncle Benjen; I’ll watch Rodrik and Lyarra, Robb offered. Robb was in charge of Winterfell with Ned in King’s Landing. Catelyn had left a few weeks after Ned, Arya, and Sansa had left, heading south to King’s Landing to find who it was that sent an assassin after Bran. He’d still been in a coma then.

“Thank you, nephew.” Benjen rose from his seat, placing Lyarra on the bench. Theon Greyjoy was just coming into the Great Hall as Benjen left running towards the birthing chambers in the family wing of Winterfell.

Benjen could hear Alessa’s screams as he got closer to the Birthing Chamber. Harrowing memories of his own mother’s screams. She’d died in childbirth when Brandon was eight, Ned was seven, Lyanna was five, and Benjen was four.

Their mother’s death in 269 AC broke their father. He never married again nor looked at another woman. Benjen had planned at one time to join the Night’s Watch.

He was the third son. Both Brandon and Eddard would have lands, titles, and wives of their own. The Starks had manned the Wall for thousands of years.

Benjen paced outside the birthing chambers. After a time, Benjen couldn’t wait any longer, barging through the birthing chamber doors.

“My Lord, you shouldn’t be here.”

“The Seven Hells I won’t. Alessa is my wife. My place is by her side, Benjen argued, marching over and sitting beside Alessa’s bedside. He took her hand in his.

“Maester Luwin. The babe”

“The babe is coming. They were turned the wrong way. But they’re the right way up now. My lady, I need you to begin pushing.” Maester Luwin answered.

Benjen held Alessa’s hand through the birth of their third and last child. Benjen whispered words of encouragement and assurance through the delivery.

“One more push, my lady; I can see the head. The babe is nearly there,” Alessa screamed through the last contractions. There was silence for a few moments before a babe cried.

“It’s a boy. You have a healthy son, my lord and lady.” Maester Luwin held up their baby.

Luwin came to them with their newborn son in his arms. “Here he is, my lady. He’s a healthy babe with a good set of lungs on him. Luwin handed the newborn babe to his parents.

“He will be tall and big like my brothers and father..... What are we going to call you, little one?”

“Jon, after your father. I know your brother is called Jon as well. There’s Great Jon and Small Jon Umber. Now there’s a third Little Jon. Jon Stark. A good northern name. Benjen rubbed baby Jon’s cheek.

“Jon Stark. A good, strong northern name indeed. Where are Rodrik and Lyarra?”

“Robb’s watching them. I’ll bring them here shortly to meet their new baby brother.” Benjen kissed Alessa’s forehead. Getting to his feet. Benjen went to find his eldest son and daughter to bring them to meet their newly born brother, Jon.

“I must say I received a slightly warmer welcome on my last visit to Winterfell.” Benjen was surprised to see Tyrion Lannister standing in the Great Hall of Winterfell.

“Any man of the Night's Watch is welcome here." Robb ignored Tyrion.

“Any man of the Night’s Watch. But not me, boy.”

“I am not your boy, Lannister. I’m Lord of Winterfell in my father’s absence,” Robb snipped.

“Perhaps his lessons on a Lord’s Courtesy must have passed you by, Nephew,” Benjen remarked as the door opened and Hodor walked in with Bran in his arms.

“So it’s true then.”

“Hello, Bran,” Tyrion said to the second son of the Warden of the North.

“Do you remember anything about what happened to you?”

“He remembers nothing of that day,” Maester Luwin cut in. Benjen’s head whipped around. Maester Luwin stood beside Benjen all of a sudden.

“Curious,” Tyrion said to himself.

“Why are you here, Lannister?”

"Could you get your charming companion to kneel? My neck is starting to hurt." Tyrion ignored Robb.

“Kneel, Hodor.”

“Do you like to ride, Bran?” Tyrion asked.

“Yes. I mean, I did,” Bran answered.

“He’s lost the use of his legs.”

“So what? Just because he’s a cripple doesn’t mean he can’t ride." Tyrion rebuked.

“I’m not a cripple.”

“And I’m not a dwarf; my father will rejoice to hear it. Give that to your saddler, and he will do the rest. Take a yearling and shape him to the rider. Have him taught to respond to voice commands.

You can still fight from horseback with a bow and sword.” Tyrion handed a scroll with an outline of the saddle to Bran.

“Why do you want to help him? Is this some sort of trick?” Robb scoffed.

“I have a soft spot in my heart for cripples, bastards, and broken things.”

“You’ve done my brother a kindness. The hospitality of Winterfell and House Stark is yours,” Robb offered.

“Spare me your false hospitality, Lord Stark. There is a brothel in Wintertown; we will be much more comfortable. We can both sleep easier then.” Tyrion cut him off.

“How is Aunt Alessa?”

“She is well. You have a cousin named Jon.” Benjen answered. 

The Dothraki Sea—Essos, 299 AC

Maekar since learning the news that he is to be a father in a matter of months. Had been thinking more and more of his parents. Arthur and Lyanna: Maekar was sure it was the name of his mother.

What would they think of the man Maekar had become? Vazzo and his wife, Revi, had raised him alongside their sons, Arro and Daekhovo, and later their daughter, Hawerri, who was born a year after Vazzo took Maekar in.

Maekar had a family for a time till Maekar was ten and three. Their Khalasar was attacked by another Khal, Drogo. Maekar, Jhozzo. Aggo, Jhogo, and Rakharo were the only ones to survive.

Vazzo, Arro, and Daekhovo all died, while Revi and Hawerri were taken by Drogo as slaves or worse. 

Maekar felt the hot gaze of someone glaring at him. Makear turned to find the hateful purple eyes of his good brothers. Viserys had healed from his whipping in a few weeks.

While Daenerys, or Dany as she liked Maekar to call her, had flourished among the Dothraki. Viserys was the opposite. 

Dany had told Maekar of their childhood. They had been forced to flee their homeland after their family was deposed. Dany had been a babe then. Viserys had been different then. But that all changed when their protector fell ill and died a short time later.

With no money, they were tossed onto the street. It was after Viserys began to change. Becoming what he was now. A coward and a bully. Maekar intended to keep his promise and protect Dany.

Killing Viserys if need be. Maekar ignored him and turned back to watching Daenerys as she sat with some of the women of the Khalasar. She had a boy of three name days in her lap as she spoke and laughed with the women in Dotharki.

Maekar noticed someone staring at Daenerys as well. The disgraced former Lord of Bear Island, Ser Jorah Mormont. Something about the man rubbed Maekar the wrong way. Maekar noted the way Mormont had looked at Daenerys the last few weeks.

He was in love with her, perhaps, or was it just infatuation? Maekar was not the jealous type. But something was off about the disgraced Northern Knight. There was something Maekar didn’t trust about the man, but he couldn’t place his finger on it. Yet. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 7

The Dothraki Sea—Essos, 299 AC

Progress in reaching Vaes Dothrak had been halted. The Khalasar of his savage, good brother had stopped to celebrate the news that Daenerys was with child.

A half-breed savage. Viserys snorted. He was irate. The savage horse lord cunt that was his good brother was marching the wrong way with his army. Where was the crown Maekal had promised him?

Viserys stood in a lone corner of the camp watching. He noted how the savages of Khal Maekal’s khalasar looked at her. They loved her. Viserys growled in anger.

Those eggs were his, not his whore of a sister’s. Fuck the Dothraki horse lords, savages. They were of no use to him. Selling the eggs would give him ships and an army.

Viserys slipped away towards the Khal’s tents. They were too busy celebrating and fucking to notice Viserys slip away. Or so he thought. 

Jorah Mormont had noted Viserys sneaking away from the festivities, as had Khal Maekal as well, it seemed. The news of Daenerys's pregnancy was news Varys would need to know.

He’d be handsomely rewarded for it. The Khal sent two of his blood riders to follow Viserys. Jorah too went to investigate what Viserys was up to.

Jorah found the Beggar King stealing Daenerys’s dragon eggs.

“Those don’t belong to you,” Jorah spoke from the mouth of the tent.

“What’s hers is mine.”

“Not any longer. I would put those back. Khal Maekal sent his blood riders to follow you. If they catch you with the eggs.” Mormont tried to reason with the Beggar King.

“You think I’m scared of that Horselord Savage. If I see one egg, I’ll have enough to buy a ship, two, an army, and a ship.”

“And you have all three,” Mormont prompted. 

“I need a large army. I’m the last hope of Dynasty Mormont. The greatest dynasty the world has ever seen has been on my shoulders since I was seven name days. And no one has ever given me what they give her. Never. Not a piece of it. 

How can I carry what I need to carry without it, hmm? Who can rule with wealth, fear, or love?“ Jorah said nothing. “Oh, you stand there all nobility and honour. You don’t think I see you looking at my little sister, hmm?

Don’t think I don’t know what you want? I don’t care; you can have her and the rest of these savages. She can be queen of the savages for all I care. But let me go.”

“How far in the Dothraki Sea Grass do you think you’ll get on your own, or how far will you get before Khal Maekal or his blood riders track you down? If you wish to leave. You can, but you can do so without the eggs.” Jorah caught Viserys’s arm.

“You swore an oath to me. Does loyalty mean nothing to you?”

“It means everything to me,” Jorah counted.

“Yet here you stand.”

“And yet here I stand.” Jorah didn’t back down. 

“ Fin ajjin mae doing kijinosi khal akka khalessi's okre” The Khal’s blood rider, named Ezollo Draezzo, barked in Dothraki  (What is he doing in the Khal and Khalessi's tent?)

“Mae ki disse leaving jin azho ha eyak.  Ha jin khalakka” Jorah lied. (He was just leaving a gift for them. For the Khalakka)“Your Grace, perhaps we should return to the feast”

Ezollo Draezzo and Bataego seemed to buy the lie. Jorah escorted Viserys back to the feast before he returned to place the dragon's eggs back where they belonged. 

Several Hours later.

The festivities continued well into the night. Daenerys was seated well in Maekar’s lap. Her head rested comfortably under his chin. Her handmaidens Irri, Doreah and Sefi were in various places around the large roaring fire in the middle of the Camp. 

Ghost lay at Maekar’s feet. Dany had not seen Viserys for most of the day. Ever since, Maekar had flogged him with his whip and humiliated him, forcing him to walk back to the Dothraki camp naked and without a horse.

Viserys had avoided them both. Daenerys had still felt her brother’s hateful and angry gaze on them more and more as time dragged on.

“DAENERYS!”Viserys screamed drunkenly as he stumbled towards them. He had been well into his cups that day, it seemed.

“Stop him before he does something stupid”, Daenerys whispered in Jorah’s ear. 

Joarh sighed and rose to his feet. Khal Maekal’s dark purple, almost black eyes to noted a drunk Viserys stumbling towards them.

“Your Grace, perhaps you need to go sober up.” Jorah placed a hand on Viserys's arm.

“Get your hands off me. No one touches the Dragon.” 

“Mae's vo khal che jin zhavvorsa. Alikh Allayafi, bitch fin whines endlessly.” Jhozzo snarkily remarked, (He's no Khal or a Dragon. More like a bitch who whines endlessly)

Maekar snorted and sniggered in agreement.

“Khal Maekal,” Viserys drunkenly stumbled about. “I’m here for the feast.”

“There is a place for you over there, Andal, with the dogs,” Maekar answered, tightening his hold on Daenerys. Ghost was now on his feet. Watching Viserys with blood-red eyes. He would rip Viserys's throat out if Maekar gave the order.

“That is no place for a king.”

“You are no king,” Maekar snapped, his voice dripping with sarcasm at the word king.

Viserys drew his sword. “Keep away from me.” Viserys turned on Joarh, his sword pointed at the former Lord of Bear Island’s throat.

“Viserys, please.”

“There she is.” Viserys turned with a sickly smile on his face. 

He walked, or perhaps stumbled, towards Daenerys, where she sat on Maekal’s lap. Ghost stood between them. The albino direwolf snarled, baring his teeth and growling.

Daenerys stood from Maekar’s lap. But Maekar stood close behind her. 

“I want what I came for. I want the crown he promised me. He bought you, but he never paid for you. Tell him I want what was bargained for, or I’m taking you back.

He can keep the half-breed bastard. I’ll cut it out and leave it for him.” Viserys threatened, his sword pointed at Daenerys’s stomach.

 “I did make you a promise of a Crown Andal. But I also made a promise to protect my wife. From you…. Remember the other promise I made to you when I warned you last time.

You hurt, threaten, or lay a hand on my wife. I would kill you. You demand I give you a crown. A crown you have not earned. Dothraki only follow strength. 

If you beat me in a duel. Then you shall have your crown. And all will tremble before it.” Maekar wrapped his arm around Dany, placing his hand on her stomach.

Just like that, Viserys was like Dany remembered, “That is all I have ever wanted.”

Daenerys knew that her brother would not survive this fight. Viserys had never wielded a sword in his life. Maekar was a hardened and trained killer. It wouldn’t be a duel but a bloodbath.

The Khalasar cleared a path for the Khal and Viserys. Maekar stopped in a field just beyond the camp. Dawn’s milk-colored blade gleamed in the sun. Viserys drew his own sword.

“Your Grace, please reconsider this.”

“I can beat him,” Viserys cockily said. Perhaps it was the drink talking.

Maekar held Dawn’s hilt loosely; it was an extension of himself. Viserys gripped his sword tightly. He only carried the sword for show. 

Viserys perhaps gathered some courage, charging at Maekar with a cry. Maekar effortlessly blocked and parried Viserys's wild sword swings. The drums beat as they fought.

It was a one-sided duel. Makear was toying with Viserys. There would be only one victor, and it would not be Viserys. Maekar had greater reach with the greatsword. 

Viserys's sword snapped in two as it clashed with Maekar’s greatsword. Viserys stared at the broken sword in his hand.

“I yield.”

“The Dothraki do not yield when we duel; it’s to the death… but you are not Dothraki, nor are you a king.” Maekar nodded to Jhozzo, Rakharo, and Bataego.

The three took hold of Viserys. Maekar placed Dawn back in its scabbard on his back. Drawing his dagger.

“Dany, please, Dany, please.” Viserys pleaded with Dany to help.

Daenerys said nothing, nor did anything to help Viserys. Maekar had said he would kill Viserys if he threatened her. Maekar was a man of his word. A small part of Dany was glad to see him die. 

Maekar didn’t slit Viserys’s throat or stab him in the heart. He merely cut off his hair. Throwing it in the fire. 

“Now the world will see your shame. You are no king, Dothraki, or anything.” Maekar said calmly. “I will give you one chance to live. If you can outrun Ghost, that is. RUN… GO ON… RUN!”

Viserys took off running as fast as his legs could carry him. “Look away, Khalessi, ”Jorah advised.

“No”

“GHOST EAT,” Maekar said half a minute after Viserys began to run. 

Ghost took off, covering the ground between himself and Viserys. Viserys didn’t run fast enough. Ghost was soon on him. Ghost grabbed him by the back of his shirt and forced him to the ground.

Viserys screamed as Ghost toyed with him. To outright kill him. Making him suffer the way he had made Dany suffer over the years. Viserys's screams stopped when Ghost tore his throat out.

Viserys died screaming.

“He was no dragon,” Daenerys said with no emotion. She didn’t mourn the man her brother had become in the end. But the brother she remembered before Ser Willem Darry died, leaving them alone in the world.

Ghost trotted back over to them. His muzzle was drenched in Viserys’s blood. Two Dothraki dragged Viserys's dead body away. His body would be burned, as was the Dothraki way. 

Jorah felt sick to his stomach at what he’d witnessed. Viserys had brought it upon himself. Threatening the Khalessi and Khalakka. Daenerys was right about Viserys; he was no dragon.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8

The Dothraki Sea—Essos, 299 AC

Daenerys lay content in her husband’s arms. It had been two days since Viserys had died. “Is it wrong that I don’t feel anything about Viserys dying? He was a horrible person in the end. But he was not always that way.” Dany kissed Maekar's scarred chest as she lay on top of him.

“Remember him for who he was, not what he became, my love. You don’t hate me for killing him.”

“He would have killed me and the babe just to get his way. I could never hate you, my moon and stars.” Daenerys lifted her head and kissed Maekar.

Maekar kissed the top of Dany’s head as he held her in his arms. “How long till we reach Vaes Dothrak?”

“A few more moons, my love,” Maekar answered as he held Dany close to him. His hand rested on her swelling stomach, carrying their child. Both of them were certain it was a boy Daenerys was carrying.

Ghost was snoring softly in the corner of the tent. Makear sang quietly to Daenerys as she slept. It was a song Revi had sung to him, Arro, Daekhovo, and Hawerri. 

Sometimes, Maekar had heard another woman singing to him the same song. She wore a blue dress and a crown of blue roses. She had kind grey eyes and dark hair like Maekar.

Was it his mother he had dreamed of when he was younger, and was it her voice he would hear when Revi had sung to them?

‘Land ki hlizif akka land ki eagle

land rek gave us birth akka blessing

land rek called us hash homewards

kisha tikh elat home across jin mountains

kisha tikh elat home, kisha tikh elat home

kisha tikh elat home across jin mountains

kisha tikh elat home, kisha tikh elat home

kisha tikh elat home across jin mountains

land ki seris land ki heroes

land rek gave us zalat akka memories

hear kishi singing hear kishi longing

kisha tikh elat home across jin mountains

kisha tikh elat home, kisha tikh elat home

kisha tikh elat home across jin mountains

kisha tikh elat home, kisha tikh elat home

kisha tikh elat home across jin mountains

land ki shekh akka land ki moonlight

land rek gave us joy akka sorrow

land rek gave us athfiezar akka laughter

kisha tikh elat home across jin mountains

kisha tikh elat home, kisha tikh elat home

kisha tikh elat home across jin mountains

kisha tikh elat home, kisha tikh elat home

kisha tikh elat home across jin mountains

hash jin land ajjin hazze hatif us

kisha zhorre elat home across jin mountains

kisha tikh elat home, kisha tikh elat home

kisha tikh elat home singing kishi hoyali’ Maekar’s soft, soothing singing lulled Daenerys to sleep.

(Land of the bear and land of eagle

Land that gave us birth and blessing

Land that called us ever homeward

We will go home across the mountains.

We will go home, we will go home

We will go home across the mountains

We will go home, we will go home

We will go home across the mountains

Land of freedom land of heroes

Land that gave us hope and memories

Hear our singing, hear our longing

We will go home across the mountains

We will go home, we will go home

We will go home across the mountains

We will go home, we will go home

We will go home across the mountains

Land of sun and land of moonlight

Land that gave us joy and sorrow

Land that gave us love and laughter

We will go home across the mountains

We will go home, we will go home

We will go home across the mountains

We will go home, we will go home

We will go home across the mountains

When the land is there before us

We have gone home across the mountains

We will go home, we will go home

We will go home singing our song.

The Red Keep, King’s Landing - the Crownlands 

299 AC.

Ned was on his way to find the king and perhaps stop an all-out war before it began. He cursed his wife for her stupidity. Taking Tyrion Lannister prisoner would bring an all-out war between the North and the Westerlands. 

“Lord Stark”

Ned turned to the man who called after him. “Your presence has been requested by the King to attend a Small Council Meeting.”

“Does it concern my wife?”

"No, my Lord Stark. It concerns Daenerys Targaryen.” The man finished.

Ned rushed to the Small Council meeting.

“The Whore is pregnant,” Robert spat, every word with venom. “But on joyful news, Viserys Targaryen is dead. Killed by the whore’s husband. Khal Maekal” 

“You’re speaking of murdering a child.”

“I told you this would happen. I warned you this would happen back in the North. I warned you, but you didn’t want to hear. But you’ll listen now.” Robert paused for a minute. "Well, hear it now. I want them dead. Mother and child both. Is that plain enough for you, Ned?”

“You’ll dishonor yourself forever if you do this.”

“Honour, fucking honour. Do you think it’s honour that’s kept the peace for eighteen or almost nineteen fucking years, Ned? No…… It’s been fear and blood. I got seven kingdoms to rule. One King, Seven Kingdoms.” Robert snarled. Renly had never seen his brother so enraged.

“Then we’re no better than the Mad King.”

“Careful, Ned. Careful.” Robert warned.

“You want to assassinate a girl on some rumour the Spider heard.”

“No rumour, Lord Stark. The princess is with child.” Varys cut in.

“Based on whose information?” Ned asked.

“Ser Jorah Mormont he’s serving as an advisor to the Targaryens.”

"Mormont,” Ned scoffed. “You bring us whispers of a traitor half a world away and call it fact.”

“Jorah Mormont’s a slaver, not a traitor. A small difference, I know, to an honourable man such as yourself, Lord Stark.”

“He broke the law, betrayed his family, and fled our lands." Ned half-glared at Littlefinger. “We commit murder on the word of this man.”

“And if he’s right. And she has a son. A Targaryen at the head of a Dothraki army. What then?" Robert questioned.

“The Narrow Sea still lies between us and them. I’ll fear the Dothraki the day they teach their horses to run on water.”

“Do nothing. That’s your advice. Do nothing till enemies are on our fucking shores. Did you forget what that whore’s father did to your father and brother and his mad son to your sister? Have you forgotten, Ned? Because I haven't. 

You’re my counsel; counsel, speak some sense into this honourable fool." Robert shouted.

“I understand your misgivings, Lord Stark; I do. It’s a terrible thing we must consider—a truly vile thing. Yet we, who presume to rule, must do vile things for the good of the people. 

Should the gods grant Daenerys Targaryen a son? The Realm will bleed for it.”

“I bear the girl no ill will. But if the Dothraki invade, how many innocent people will be killed, and how many towns will be raised to the ground? Is it not wiser and kinder that the girl should die now?

So that tens of thousands shall live." Pycelle made his case.

“We should have killed them both years ago.”

“When you find yourself in bed with an ugly woman. It’s best to close your eyes and get it over with.“ Not sure what that metaphor has to do with this, Littlefinger. “Cut her throat and be done with it.”

“I’ve followed you into war and battle. I’ve killed for you twice without doubt or question. But I will not follow you now. The Robert I knew didn’t tremble at the shadow of an unborn child. Viserys Targaryen is dead. Any claim the Targaryens had died with him. Even if she has a son. Who is to say she will ever come back to Westeros? Leave them in peace.”

“She dies.” Robert wasn’t backing down.

“Then I will have no part in it.”

“You’re the King’s Hand, Lord Stark. You will do as I command, or I will find a hand who will." Ned nodded before pulling off the Hand of the King’s pin and throwing it on the table.

“And good luck to him.” Ned began to turn away. 

“Out, out. Damn you to seven hells. I’m done with you.”

Ned turned and walked away. “Go on, run back to Winterfell; I’ll have your head on a spike.”

Ned ignored the rest of Robert’s tirade as he made his way to the Tower of the Hand to pack. It was time to go home. He never should have left Winterfell.

"Jory, see that the girls are packed. We leave before sundown.”

"Father, what’s going on?" Sansa appeared in his solar.

“I need you and Arya to pack; we are leaving and going home to Winterfell.”

“No. I won’t go." Sansa didn’t want to leave; why were they leaving?

"Sansa, do not argue with me. GO PACK!" Ned yelled.

"Jory, round up all our men and bring them to guard the girls. Pick your three best men; there’s one place we have to go before we leave.” Ned relayed his orders.

Chapter Text

Chapter 9 

The Tower of the Hand—the Red Keep: King’s Landing—the Crownlands 

299 AC.

Ned barely set foot outside the Tower of the Hand when he was greeted by the Spider himself, Lord Varys, the Master of Whispers. “Lord Stark”

“Lord Varys”

“Lord Stark, you are leaving then. Going back to the North, then?” Varys asked in a riddle.

“Aye, we will be gone on the first ship to White Harbour. Are you giving the order to kill Daenerys Targaryen and her unborn child?”

“I do things for the good of the realm and the people. While the King has given the order. Perhaps we should talk where there are fewer ears. The queen and Lord Baelish have eyes and ears everywhere.” Ned nodded, going back into the Tower of the Hand.

Varys led the way back into the Tower of the Hand. They didn’t stop in the Tower of the Hand. Varys walked to one of the walls, pulling a lever. A door opened to a series of tunnels.

“Who built these tunnels?” Ned asked as they walked.

“Maegor the Cruel, it was said. They all run through the Red Keep, and many run beneath the city as well.” Varys answered.

The Warden of the North and Master of Whispers continued on their journey beneath the Red Keep. Ned was taken aback by the massive dragon skull in front of them. Balerion the Black Dread, perhaps. 

Ned was surprised that Ser Jaime Lannister and another man Ned hadn’t seen in almost nineteen years. Ser Oswell Whent. The former Kingsguard looked no different, only a little older and with a few new scars.

“Why is Jaime Lannister here?”

“I thought perhaps it would be best if you two spoke in private to clear the air,” Varys said, speaking in riddles once more.

“I had nothing to do with your brother’s arrest. That was my wife’s doing, not mine.” Ned told the Kingslayer.

“It wouldn’t make any difference; my father will itch for war. The realm will bleed either way.”

“When Robert learns the truth of who the father of his three children is, you mean,” Ned countered.

“You mean to tell him.”

“It’s the honourable thing to do. With no heirs, Stannis is Robert’s heir,” Ned answered.

“Not entirely true, Lord Stark. Robert may be king now, but he is not the rightful king. For there is someone with a far better claim than he…… Your nephew, Maekar Targaryen, is also known as Khal Maekal.”

“Who do you serve, the Targaryens or Robert?” Ned questioned.

“I serve the realm and the people. Robert Baratheon may not be as mad as Aerys was, but he is no better. Bankrupting the realm in the process.”

“You never answered my question about the order to have Daenerys and her unborn child killed.” Ned changed the subject.

“The wheels have been set in motion. Whether the princess and her child live is in the hands of the gods.” Varys answered vaguely.

“Cersei knows you know about the paternity of Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen. Plans and wheels have been set in motion that can’t be stopped.”

“What plans have been set in motion?” Ned questioned.

“One that was plaguing the realm into war.”

Ned read between the lines. “Where is Robert?”

“Gone hunting with Renly and Ser Barristan, he will not be back for a day or two,” Varys answered.

“If you are thinking of saving the King. Think again. Robert will be dead before you find him.”

“You stabbed one king in the back and are prepared to let another die. Murdered by your sister, trying to cover up cockculding Robert passing off your bastard children as his” Ned scoffed.

“You and your honour, Stark. The world is not so black and white. Do you know why I killed the Mad King?” Ned said nothing. “The Mad King was insane. He’d lost all sense of reality by the end. He planned to blow up King’s Landing before you could take it. King’s Landing would have naught but ash and rubble by the time he was finished.

He had a cache of Wildfyre packed beneath the city. Whether they're still there, I don’t know. I told Jon Arryn about them. What the former Lord Hand did about them was another matter.

People can call me Kingslayer or think what they want about me. I broke my Kingsguard vows to uphold the vows I made as a knight to protect the innocent. I couldn’t protect Elia or her children; I have to live with that for the rest of my days. 

But I could stop him from hurting anyone else. Do I regret killing Aerys Targaryen the way I did? No, I don't. No one was safe from him. Not even his own wife. 

After he burned your father alive, and your brother choked to death. He raped Queen Rhaella. The Kingsguard could do nothing to protect her from her husband. We were sworn to protect Aerys, but not the queen.

Do I feel any remorse for what I did? No, I don’t. Aerys Targaryen was a monster that had to be stopped."

Ned said nothing. 

“I made a vow and promise, Rhaegar; I failed to protect Princess Elia and her children. I live with that guilt and will live with it for the rest of my days. But I can at least try to make amends by protecting his last surviving son.” Jaime finished.

“The best course of action you can take, Lord Stark, is to take your daughters and get as far from King’s Landing as possible. I have made arrangements for a ship to take you to White Harbour.” Varys spoke a few minutes later.

Parting ways with Varys, Lannister, and Whent, Ned returned to the Tower of the Hand. All plans of going to see Littlefinger were abandoned. The best course of action Ned could take was to take his daughters and take the first ship to the North.

“JORY,” Ned called for the captain of his household guard. 

“Lord Stark”

“Are my daughters packed?” Ned questioned 

“Yes, my lord, Lady Sansa and Arya are almost packed. The rest of the household will take a little longer.” Jory answered.

“Make sure they are ready to leave by sunset. The ships will be ready to sail by then.” Ned replied.

"Yes, my Lord" 

Vaes Dothrak—the Dothraki Sea Grass

299 AC.

After almost six moons on the road, they reach Vaes Dothrak. Daenerys’s belly had swollen larger in the last few moons. Ghost became clingy and protective. Silverwing had noted the change in her rider’s condition. Being more gentle with Daenerys.

Daenerys and Maekar had decided on two names: Aemon for a son or Rhaella for a daughter. 

There was a one-sided effect of her pregnancy that neither Dany nor Maekar complained about. Daenerys's desire for her husband. Maekar was all but willing to help his wife with her increased sexual needs wholeheartedly.

It wasn’t uncommon for the Khal and Khalessi to disappear for hours at a time to go off and fuck. There was no privacy in a Khalasar. Not that either Daenerys or Maekar heard who heard them fucking or making love.

Maekar sent his blood riders ahead. Allowing them some time to blow off some steam. The Khalasar continued on its path to Vaes Dothrak. It was the first thing to look like a town or city Daenerys had seen in moons.

“How long will we stay here for, my love?”

“For a time, till the Khalakka is born, then we will see what happens after that,” Maekar answered, taking Dany’s hand in his as they rode towards Vaes Dothrak.

King’s Landing—the Crownlands 

299 AC.

In the fading light of day. Ned Stark, former Hand of the King and Warden of the North, arrived at the docks with his daughters, Sansa and Arya, along with the rest of his household. 

“But Father, I want to stay. Mother promised me I would be queen. I love Joffrey and want to have his babies.” Sansa whined for the sixth time since they had left the Red Keep.

“Enough, Sansa, you and your sister, along with the rest of the household, are going back to the North. You will not marry Joffrey, nor will you be queen," Ned snapped; his nerves were on edge.

“But”

“Enough,” Ned raised his voice. “Jory, see my daughters safely to White Harbour and then Winterfell. Give these to my brother and son. Ned handed Jory a scroll.

“My Lord, you are not coming with us.”

“No, I have business to finish here. I will be another day, and then I will sail for the North. Ned wasn’t going North; he was going East. Ned’s main concern was seeing his daughters safely return to the North, where they would be safe.

It was too dangerous for them to accompany Ned where he was going. The Essos was a dangerous place. For once, Ned wanted to do something for himself. To find his nephew and bring him home. Fuck honour and duty for once. Family… Maekar was his family.

‘The Lone Wolf Dies, but the Pack Survives.’ His father’s words rang in his ears. Maekar was part of his pack, as were Daenerys and their unborn child. His great niece or nephew.

Chapter Text

I hate asked yet again. I always planned for Robert to die as per canon and the War of Five Kings kicks off. Now I'm not so sure. Should Bobby B have his date with certain piece of bacon or live for a future confrontation with Markar and ultimately Ned when they return?

Chapter Text

Chapter 10

King’s Landing—the Crowlands 

299 AC.

Ned Stark waited impatiently at the docks for Lannister's arrival. The ship was waiting for them. Where was the Kingslayer? Ned cursed himself for believing the Lannister would keep his word. A Lannister always pays his debts, my backside, Ned snorted to himself.

“My Lord, we can’t wait much longer.” The ship’s captain spoke with Ned for a few minutes.

“If he’s not here in five minutes, we will depart, Captain,” Ned agreed.

Not a minute later, three horses came trotting up to the docks. There was Jaime Lannister. Ned’s eyes widened in horror.

“What in the Seven Hells, Lannister, did you bring Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen with you?” Ned hissed under his breath.

“What do you think Robert will do when he learns the paternity of his ‘children’?” Jaime hissed hardly above a whisper.

Ned nodded. 

“Lord Varys has made sure we have the proper documentation. According to this, Robert has approved for Myrcella and Tommen to be sent to Foster in the North.” Jaime showed the scroll to Ned.

Ned knew what Robert would do once he learned the truth of the paternity of his children. He would be out for blood. Tommen and Myrcella would pay the price. 

Even all these years later, Ned was haunted by the bloodied and butchered bodies of Elia Martell and her children. War would come swiftly between the Stags and Lions. That was if Robert survived his hunting trip into the Kingswoods with Renly and Ser Barristan Selmy.

Oswell Whent came up from below the decks. “Are we setting sail or not?”

“Soon,” Ned answered. Ned found a Northern merchant ship headed back to White Harbour. Ned paid the captain plenty of coin to keep his mouth shut and do as Ned asked: take Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen to White Harbour and make arrangements for them to be taken to Winterfell.

An hour later, their own ship was underway, sailing east to the Essos and to an uncertain future. 

Vaes Dothrak, the Dothraki Sea 

299 AC.

The ceremony to find out whether it was a Khalakka or a Khalakki Daenerys carried was about to begin. Maekar had warned her that Stallion’s heart could be unpleasant to eat. 

Dany kept her eyes on Maekar as she ate the stallion’s heart. She almost gagged a little, but kept her composure as the chanting went on around her. Both she and Maekar were sure it was a boy she carried. 

A Khalakka. 

“Khaalakka Dothrae” The head Dosh Khaleen chanted as Daenerys ate the last remaining bits of the stallion’s heart.

The Dosh Khaeleen spoke the prophecy, ‘The Stallion who Mounts the World.’ Their boy Aemon was the one who would be the Stallion who Mounts the World.

“Jin prince rides kijinosi, Anna! Akka Mae shall tikh called aemon” Daenerys stood up and spoke, her eyes locked with Maekar as he rose from his seat. (A prince rides inside me! And he shall be called Aemon)

AEMON, AEMON, AEMON. The other Dothraki began to chant. 

Maekar picked her up in his arms. The Dothraki chanted louder. Chanting the name of the stallion who would mount the world. Aemon. 

After a time, the chanting died down. Maekar still held Daenerys in his arms. He slowly set her down on her feet. He took her hand in his. Calling for Ghost, they left the temple. Their horses were waiting for them.

Maekar led the way as they rode to the Womb of the World. Ghost trailed behind them—a silent shadow and protector.

“What is this place?”

“The Womb of the World. Where it is said the first man came riding upon the first horse.—a sacred place to the Dothraki. Many a child has been conceived here,” Maekar answered. 

That night, Maekar and Daenerys made love under the stars as true Dothraki did, several times. 

“Robert Baratheon will never stop hunting us. Even with Viserys dead”

“He’s the man who killed your brother Rhaegar in battle”, Maekar questioned. 

“Yes… He laughed when my good sister and her children's mutilated bodies were presented to him by the Lannisters. Laughing and saying, I only see Dragon Sqawn.”

“Once Aemon is born and you are well enough to travel, we will take back what is yours,” Maekar vowed.

“We would need more men. I fear 30,000 would not be enough.”

“We will get it. Do you think your dragon eggs will hatch?” Maekar asked.

“Perhaps. I feel the warmth of them; they are still alive. They will hatch one day.”

Winterfell, the North 

299 AC.

Benjen Stark stood in the training yard with his son Rodrik and nephews Robb and Rickon. Bran was having his lessons with Maester Luwin. Jon was three moons old now. 

He was a good, quiet babe. Word had reached them in Winterfell: Ned had resigned as Hand of the King and was returning to Winterfell. A raven reached them from White Harbour half a moon ago.

They had arrived in White Harbour and would be in Winterfell in two to three weeks. In the meantime. Catelyn had returned with Ser Rodrik. Benjen didn’t know what his good sister had been thinking, taking Tyrion Lannister prisoner.

A war had almost broken out between the North and the Westerlands. Thankfully, none came to pass. A new Hand of the King had to be chosen, as Ned had resigned from the position.

“Lord Benjen,” a young soldier by the name of Brydan came running towards them.

“What is it, Brydan?”

“Stark Banners have been spotted on the horizon. About four or five miles away,” the young lad said as he caught his breath.

Benjen nodded, calling Robb over. Telling him that Stark Banners had been spotted on the horizon four or five miles away.

The family gathered in the courtyard as they awaited Ned, Sansa, and Arya’s return. The direwolf pups were no longer pups but still growing like weeds. 

Jory Cassell led the train of people and horses. Sansa and Arya rode on a wagon with Septa Mordane. Benjen and Robb both did a double-take when they noted Prince Tommen and Princess Myrcella seated on the wagon with Sansa and Arya.

What in seven hells was going on? Both looked for Ned. But didn’t find him among the crowd of Stark soldiers who had returned from the South.

“Lord Benjen. Lord Stark asked me to give these letters to you and Robb.” Jory Cassel handed 

Dear Benjen.

I hope this letter finds you well. I have left another letter with Jory to give to Robb explaining everything. You were right about the South. It is no place for a Stark. Robert is not the man I remember from our days as warding in the Eyrie.

You were right. Lyanna’s son, Maekar, still lives. He is still living amongst the Dothraki. A Khal of the Dothraki. He wed his aunt Daenerys Targaryen in Pentos almost six moons ago now.

I can’t help but wonder what sort of man he is. By the time you get this letter, hopefully, Sansa and Arya are safely back at Winterfell with the rest of my household.

You will be wondering why I didn’t return with them. I am going East to bring Maekar home. As Father said many times, ‘The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.’ Maekar, Daenerys, and their unborn child are a part of our pack, and I will bring them home. Give my love to everyone. 

I wish you good fortune in the wars to come, brother.

Ned. 

Lyanna’s boy was alive. God, all this time he had been alive. Benjen had always felt somewhere deep down that the Maekar was still alive out there somewhere. 

He had survived being taken by the Dothraki, rising high among them. A Dothraki Khal was equivalent to a king, perhaps. Benjen couldn’t help wondering what sort of man Makear had grown to be.

What did he look like? Did he take after his father’s side, or did he look more like a Stark, or was he a mixture of the two? Benjen became lost in his thoughts.

“Uncle Benjen. What’s in the letter from Father?” Robb brought Benjen back to the present.

Benjen cleared his throat. “He wrote a letter for you as well, Robb.” Benjen handed the letter to Robb to read. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 11

The Red Keep, King’s Landing—the Crownlands.

298 AC

After Ned had resigned as Hand of the King and gone back North, taking Robert’s two youngest children with him. Robert didn’t even remember signing and sealing the decree stating that Tommen and Myrcella were to be fostered and warded in Winterfell. Robert must have been well into his cups when he signed it, as he didn’t remember. Part of the decree must have been the Kingslayer going with them as their sworn shield.

His beloved wife, of course, had ranted and raved at her beloved children being sent to the wilderness of the North. It would do Tommen good to be fostered away from his meddling mother.

The boy was too soft. Myrcella was a good girl. Being fostered in Winterfell would do them both the world of good. Joffrey was a lost cause. He should have sent the little shit to Stannis long ago. After he caught him skinning that pregnant cat.

After a near-fatal hunting accident around the time Ned had departed. Robert had decided to cut back on his drinking and get back into shape. He spent a few hours a day in the training yard with Ser Barristan and Arys Oakheart.

Robert named Stannis as his Hand. Renly, while a good Master of Laws, didn’t have the stones for the dirty work of being Hand of the King. Paxter Redwyne replaced Stannis as Master of Ships.

Robert had even begun to attend Small Council meetings. Not every day, but every few days.

“It seems our plan to assassinate Daenerys Targaryen and her unborn child didn’t quite go to plan, Your Grace.” Varys said sheepishly, “Our agent was discovered and killed by Khal Maekal. He sent us his head as a warning along with a note.”

You need better assassins, Stag King. Only a coward is scared of a woman and her unborn babe. I send your cutthroat’s head as a warning. Leave us in peace, and there will be no trouble.

But keep trying to kill my wife and son. And I will not be so obliging. I will send you the heads of every cutthroat you sent to kill my wife and son.

The note was a veiled threat.

“I want the three of them dead. The Dragon Whore, her bastard child, and the Dothraki Horse Fucker she married,” Robert seethed.

“The Dothraki are no threat, my king. The Dothraki have never crossed the Narrow Sea. They fear the water their horses cannot drink.”

“I don’t care; I want them dead, Varys. If the Targaryen whore crosses the Narrow Sea with her Dothraki horse-fucker husband and his horde. Those who still call me a usurper will join them.” Robert slammed his hand on the Small Council Table.

“As you say, my King,” Varys had no intention of giving the order.

The wheels of the Game of Thrones were set in motion. The Dragons would return before too long. Till then, the game would continue to be played.

Vaes Dothrak, the Dothraki Sea 

299 AC.

After the attempt on Daenerys’s life by the Andal Stag King, who sat on the throne that was Daenerys’s family’s by right. Maekar doubled, if not tripled, those protecting Daenerys.

Her belly swelled larger and larger with each passing day. The babe was due any day, no, according to the Dothraki midwives. Makear couldn’t help but wonder if it was more than one babe she carried, given how large Dany’s belly had grown throughout her pregnancy.

Maekar took his blood riders beyond Vaes Dothrak to spar and keep his swords sharp and his wits. His blood riders and Khalasar grew restless. They had been in Vaes Dothrak for almost three moons now.

Once the babe and Daenerys were fit to travel, they would leave Vaes Dothrak. Maekar had read the books Mormont had given Daenerys on their wedding day all those moons ago.

Still, Maekar could not help but wonder what his homeland was like. Westeros was a strange place to him. Maekar had spent almost ten and nine years in the Essos.

While they could not train with weapons in Vaes Dothraki. There were other ways for Maekar and his blood riders to stay sharp for the time that came for them to ride into battle.

Wrestling and fighting hand-to-hand. It was a way for them to pass the time. It allowed Maekar’s men to blow off steam and keep their minds sharp for when they would begin to wage war in Daenerys’s name.

Maekar was woken in the middle of the night. Daenerys shook his shoulder to wake him.

“What is it, my moon and stars?” Maekar's voice was thick with sleep as he spoke in the common tongue.

“The babe is coming. Maek ” Meakar kissed Dany on the forehead. Rising from the makeshift bed made of furs and pelts. He dressed quickly, going to the flap of their tent.

“Get Jin midwives akka fichat eyak here. Jin khalessi ajjin she labor.” Maekar barked in Dothraki ( Get the midwives and bring them here. The Khalessi is in labour)

The midwives arrived a few minutes later. They didn’t kick him out of the tent, as was the norm in other parts of the world. 

Maekar stayed by Daenerys’s side all through the labour. The labour dragged on for many hours; the babe was not yet ready to come into the world. Once their son had decided it was time to come meet the world and his parents.

Daenerys cursed at Maekar in Valyrian, Dothraki, and the Common Tongue. Maekar just smiled and kissed Dany’s head as she leaned back into Maekar’s chest as the next contraction hit with a vengeance. 

“Keep pushing, Khaelessi. Jin babe ajjin chir here, Jin Loy Alikh pushes.” Daenerys screamed through another painful contraction  ( Keep pushing Khaelessi. The babe is almost here, a few more pushes)

“You're doing so well. My moon and stars keep pushing. Aemon will be here before you know it,” Maekar encouraged.

Daenerys was stronger than she looked. For someone so tiny, she sure was strong at that moment as she gave birth to their first child. Maekar’s hand hurt from how tightly she grasped it. 

The pain was worth it, as a few moments later, a babe cried.

“It’s a boy. The omens were right. The Great Stallion and the Mother have blessed you, Khal, Khalessi, with a strong Khalakkas. He will be the Stallion Who Mounts the World.” One of the midwives spoke in broken common tongue.

“It seems the Great Stallion and the Mother have not finished blessing you. Another babe is coming.”

Twins. 

The second babe came much quicker than their brother had. Maekar wiped Dany’s sweat-soaked hair from her eyes.

“Almost there, Khalessi, just one more push.”

A second babe cried mere moments later. “The Great Stallion and Mother have blessed you with a daughter.”

Aemon and Rhaella. The Dotharki midwives came forth with Maekar and Daenerys's newly born son and daughter. Aemon was a carbon copy of his father, only he had no streaks of blonde or silver. His eyes were dark purple, almost black.

Rhaella had Daenerys’s silver hair, but her eyes were grey. Neither Maekar nor Daenerys had grey eyes. So why were Rhaella’s eyes grey? The day the newly born Prince and Princess of House Targaryen were born, a red comet shot across the sky.

In another part of the tent. The dragon eggs began to hiss and steam. What in the Seven Hells was happening? Mere moments later. All three dragon eggs hatched. Dragon, too, had returned to the world, it seemed. 

The largest of the three dragon hatchlings. His black scales were slashed with streaks of vivid scarlet red. His horns and wings were also scarlet red, and his eyes were red as coals.

The second dragon hatchling had dark scales and wings that were jade-green, and his eyes were bronze. While the smallest hatchling, the majority of his scales are cream, but his horns, wing bones, and spinal crest are gold colored.

On the other side of the Narrow Sea, a long-forgotten dragon dreamed of dragons returning.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12

Pentos—the Essos

299 AC.

After several moons at sea. Their ship finally docked in Pentos. Ned was unsure where to start searching for his nephew. Oswell Whent seemed to have a better idea of where Maekar would be.

Jaime Lannister hadn’t said much on the voyage from King’s Landing to Pentos.

Ned’s brief time in King’s Landing had made him ill-prepared for the heat and humidity of Pentos. Stepping off the step onto the docks, they were greeted by soldiers.

Whent spoke with them in Valyria for a few moments.

“They are here to escort us to the Manse”, Whent said in cryptic tones. 

“What, Manse?”

“A friend of Lord Varys’s, Stark,” Whent answered as he mounted his horse.

Ned and Jaime mounted their own horses, following Whent and the men who came to escort them to this manse belonging to a friend of Lord Varys’s. 

Ned wasn’t sure how long they rode for. It could have been mere minutes or even longer. Soon, a pair of eloquent gates opened. This must be the Manse they had been escorted to.

“Ah, Ser Oswell, good to see you again. Lord Stark, Ser Jaime Lannister, welcome to Pentos. Lord Varys told me to expect you.” A man in fine robes appeared.

“Magister Illyrio,” Oswell remarked.

The man Illyrio clapped his hands, speaking Valyrian to his servants or perhaps slaves. Ned caught a word or two, such as rooms, or was it chambers?

Ned walked out onto the balcony adjoining his rooms. Ned's attention was drawn to the training yard below. Two men were training in the training yard. 

Ned was too far away to hear what they were saying, but still close enough to get a good look at the boys. Ned was taken aback by the older boy. Ned couldn’t help but shake the feeling that the older boy was possibly his son with Ashara: William. Ned hadn’t seen him since he was a babe; now here he stood, a grown man.

Vaes Dothrak—the Dothraki Sea 

299 AC.

The twins, Aemon and Rhaella, were now half a moon old, along with the dragon hatchlings. Maekar watched amusingly as the hatchling climbed all over Ghost.

The albino direwolf did nothing. He was gentle with them. The hatchling was unnamed as of yet. The Black and Red Hatchling had taken a shine to Daenerys, while the Cream and Gold Hatchling gravitated towards Aemon.

The other hatchling that was colored bronze and green had chosen Maekar of all people. Maekar was not a Targaryen. He knew nothing of his mother. Perhaps she had some of the blood of the dragon in her. Possible.

“Do the dragons have names now?” Maekar asked as they cuddled up to one another after supper. The Dothraki midwives had advised against having sex for at least a moon and a half to allow Daenerys time to heal after birthing the twins.

“Yes, the black and red hatchling, I named him Sȳndror; the bronze and green dragon, I named for my brother Rhaegar: I named him Rhaegal. The Golden and Cream dragon is unnamed at the moment,” Dany murmured against Maekar’s chest.

“Hmm, you will find a name for him in time, my love.”

Once Daenerys was strong enough to ride, they would leave Vaes Dothrak. To find an army, to one day take back what was rightfully Dany’s by right.

The Red Keep: King’s Landing—the Crownlands 

299 AC.

Varys smiled as he read the note from his little birds. The queen had given birth to a son and a daughter. The line of succession was secured. Now was the time to sow the seeds of chaos for the Game of Thrones to truly begin.

Destroying the Baratheon-Lannister alliance was essential for the Targaryens to take back the Iron Throne; it didn’t hurt that they now had three dragons. Though still relatively small.

One day, they would grow large enough to be ridden. Dragons had returned to the world indeed. They would need time for the dragons to grow and for them to gather a larger army. 

Varys's plotting and plans were interrupted by a knock on his chamber doors. “Enter, it’s open.”

The Spider was surprised to see the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Barristan ‘the Bold’ Selmy, at his door.

“Lord Commander, this is a surprise. Is there something I can do for you?” Varys asked.

“I have some information. I’m not sure how to approach the king. It concerns the Queen and her cousin. Lancel Lannister, the King’s Squire. They have been spending an awful lot of time together since Ser Jaime departed with Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen for the North for their fostering.

I suspect that there is more to this than a familiar feeling. I have suspected for some time that the queen and her twin brother had more than a sibling relationship, but couldn’t prove it.

Both Lord Arryn and Lord Stark had this book reading of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms, with every birth recorded since the Conquest. Perhaps they suspected something as well.

None of the royal children looks like the king. They are all Lannister and very little, if any, Baratheon in them.”

“You suspect that Queen has been cuckolding the King with her twin brother and now her cousin,” Varys said with glee and a twinkle in his eyes. He had sat on this information for many years, and now it proved most useful to bring the downfall of the House Baratheon/House Lannister Alliance.

“Yes, I do,” Barristan answered. His suspicions of the paternity of the Royal Children were not the only reason Barristan had come to see the spider.

“Have you heard any news of the Targaryen girl?”

“Yes, she gave birth to a son and daughter named Aemon and Rhaella,” Varys answered before asking, “It’s curious why you asked after the Targaryen girl when you serve House Baratheon, the very House that overthrew her House.”

“I may serve House Baratheon, but I will always be loyal to House Targaryen.”

“Hmm, interesting.” Varys hummed, “It seems Prince Rhaegar had another child, a son. With Lyanna Stark”

“What… Where is the child?”

“He lives, Ser Barristan. Ser Arthur Dayne took him across the Narrow Sea in the closing days of the Rebellion. Ser Arthur Dayne was killed when the Dothraki raided the village where he and Maekar, Prince Rhaegar, and Lyanna Stark’s son had been living.

He was taken by the Dothraki and raised by them under the name Maekal. Rising high among them. Becoming a Khal and wedding his aunt,” Varys finished.

“He’s true-born.”

“Yes, Prince Rhaegar took Lyanna Stark as his second wife with Elia Martell’s blessing. The prince was desperate for a third child. Princess Elia could bear no more children.” Varys revealed.

“Where are they?”

“Vaes Dothrak for now. How long they remain there is undetermined.” Varys answered.

Barristan may serve House Baratheon, but he would always be loyal to House Targaryen. Barristan made up his mind. He would leave for the Essos as soon as possible. Barristan wonders what Maekar/Maekal and Daenerys were like.

He remembered Queen Rhaella fondly; she had a kind, gentle soul who always did her duty. The gods had cursed her to be saddled with a mad and sadistic husband. They had sworn a vow to protect the King.

But no one could protect the queen from the mad king. Barristan had made a vow to the queen to protect Prince Rhaegar when they had been about to march off to the ill-fated Battle of the Trident, but he had been unable to keep his promise then.

But now he would keep that promise and protect and look after Queen Rhaella’s grandson and daughter.

Chapter Text

Chapter 13

The Red Keep: King’s Landing—the Crownlands 

299 AC

Barristan Selmy disappeared from King’s Landing with Varys’s help. Now, Varys could enact his plan to sow the seeds of chaos and topple the Lannister/Baratheon Alliance.

Varys was the one to call the Small Council Meeting. 

“You have news, Spider?” Robert Baratheon grunted. Cutting back on his drinking and getting back into shape had done the Stag King good. He had some weight in the moons since Lord Stark had departed for the North.

“I did, your Grace. I have news from Essos—Daenerys Targaryen birthed twins, a son and daughter” Robert’s blue eyes turned cold as the Wall.

“I said I wanted them DEAD, VARYS. I meant it. I want them dead.” Robert raged.

“As you say, your Grace. I will speak with my little birds,” Varys nodded before changing the subject. “There was another reason that I called a Small Council meeting.

Your Grace, when you nearly had your near-fatal hunting accident with the boar, it was no accident. Someone was trying to kill you and make it look like an accident.”

“The Targaryens,” Lord Redwyne guessed.

“No, my Lord. According to my little birds, the one who attempted to kill the king was the queen. Aided by her cousin, your squire, Lancel Lannister, my king. 

The wine was laced with some poison or something to impair you on the boar hunt, so it would look like you had a hunting accident, gored by a boar. After getting too much into your cups,” Varys finished.

“Why?”

“Lord Stark and Lord Arryn both acquired this book from Grand Maester Pycelle. The record of every noble birth since the Conquest. Since the records began, all Baratheons have been of dark hair and blue eyes, except for the rare occasion due to the Targaryen blood that resulted in purple eyes.

But all three of the royal children are fair-haired and green-eyed eyes” Varys continued to sow the seeds of distrust.

“One babe is nothing, but three looking nothing like their father is not a coincidence,” Stannis murmured.

“What else, Varys?”Robert asked, his jaw clenched.

“My birds have told me that the queen and her cousin, your squire, my king, have been spending a lot of time in her chambers alone ever since Ser Jaime departed with Prince Tommen and Princess Myrcella to escort them to Winterfell.” Varys could see the thunderclouds forming in Robert’s eyes.

“Where is the whore and her golden cousin?”

“In her chambers, my king,” Varys answered.

Robert stood abruptly up. Storming out of the Small Council Chambers. Stannis was on his heels with Ser Mandon Moore and Ser Boros Blount trailing behind them.

“Robert, don’t do anything hasty,” Stannis cautioned his older brother.

“Like what, Stannis cave the bitch’s head in and sent it to her father, you mean?” Robert seethed. How had he been so blind? There was only one person who could be the father of the three bastards she’d passed off as his children. The Kingslayer.

Servants and guards moved aside as the king stormed towards the Royal Wing and the queen’s chambers. The sound of moaning and slapping skin grew louder the closer they got to the queen’s chambers.

Robert snarled in anger as he kicked the door down. His blue eyes were simmering with rage as he looked at the sight before him.

His ball-less squire and his whore of a wife. Locked in a passionate embrace. Lancel stopped mid-thrust. His cock shrank under Robert’s wrathful gaze. 

“SEIZE THEM,” Robert bellowed. Baratheon soldiers came forth into the queen’s chambers.

“Robert, it’s not what it.”

“Looks like. It’s a bit hard to argue anything else when I caught him balls deep inside his cousin.” Robert snarled.

“Who is the father of your bastard children you attempted to pass off as my children?”

“Jaime is a far better man than you. A better lover as well. He knows how to please a woman rather than rutting and grunting like a stuck pig.” Robert smiled a dangerous smile. He backhanded Cersei hard enough to leave his handprint on her face.

“Look at your glorious king; look how he honours his wife. I will wear this as a badge of honour.”

“Speak any more and I will honour you again. Take this bitch and her cunt cousin to the Black Cells, where they will await their trial; seize her bastard son as well. Throw him in the cells as well.” Robert remarked darkly.

Cersei and Lancel were dragged away. “Send word to Winterfell. I want the Kingslayer here to answer for his crimes or send me his head.”

“What of Tommen and Myrcella?”

“The boy can go to the Watch, the girl to the Silent Sisters for all I care, Robert grunted. God, he needs a drink.

“My King, if I may. Prince…. I mean, Lady Myrcella is close to marrying age. Lord Robb Stark is unwed. Perhaps a marriage between the two. It would perhaps calm any tension with Tywin.

Tommen’s barely a boy of twelve name days, my king. Have it decreed that both are disinherited 

As for Lord Joffrey. He is far too dangerous to keep around. Sending him to the Wall would be the best solution, perhaps diplomatically.” Varys looked to Stannis for support here.

“Robert just disinherit them. They are disgraced bastards.

As for Joffrey, sending him to the Wall would be best.” Stannis backed Varys up.

“Fine, send the ravens announcing the bitch’s arrest and that of Lancel Lannister as well. Conspiring to murder the king, adultery, cuckolding, incest, etc. 

If the Kingslayer is not in Winterfell, or they fail to find him. Place a bounty on his head for capture, dead or alive. Of 5,000 gold dragons.”

Vaes Dothrak—the Dothraki Sea

299 AC

Plans and preparation were underway for their long-awaited departure from Vaes Dothrak. After almost four months here. It was time to leave. To begin gathering an army and ships to take back the Iron Throne.

Maekar became a hands-on father, spending as much time as possible with Aemon, Rhaella, and Daenerys, of course. Maps were sprawled over the floor of their tent.

The twins were sleeping soundly, and Ghost was snoring close by. Always near and never far from any of them. The hatchlings were cuddled up with Ghost, save for Rhaegal, who was perched on Maekar’s shoulder as he looked over the maps of Essos.

They would need a larger army than the 30,000 Maekar commanded within his Khalasar. They would need ships and more men. Maekar continued to pore over the maps before him.

The tent flapped open as Daenerys appeared. “How are the twins and hatchlings?”

“Sleeping soundly except for this one.” Rhaegal chirped happily as Maekar rubbed the hatchling under his chin.

“War planning already.”

“We need to start planning; we are to take back what was your family’s by right…. We need an army and ships. It could be years before the dragons are big enough to ride, according to the books Mormont gave on our wedding days, Maekar answered.

Gods, they had been wed almost a year. It seemed like a lifetime ago when they met for the first time in Illyrio’s Manse all those moons ago.

“We do. What have you worked out so far, my moon and stars? Dany sat in Maekar’s lap.

“We start here in Qarth; we should be able to acquire ships, then perhaps move on to Astapor. There, you would be able to acquire an army of Unsullied. You have the Dothraki as cavalry and archers, but the Unsullied reputation is well known for being an elite infantry.” Maekar explained his plan.

“Slave Soldiers”

“If they fought for us, they would be free men. I have spent the last ten and five, almost ten and six, years with the Dothraki. The practice of slavery among my people is well known.

I respect my people’s traditions and such, but it doesn’t mean I have to like them. If you break the foothold the Slave Cities have, you would have enough men and gold to take back your birthright. Break the Wheel, so Aemon and Rhaella won’t ever need to know what it’s like to hunted like animals for the mere crime of their name or the crimes of their grandfather and uncle,” Maekar explained.

“We’ll break the wheel together.”

“Together”, Maekar vowed

Chapter Text

Chapter 14

Casterly Rock—the Westerlands 

299 AC.

The Lion of Casterly Rock, Tywin Lannister, sat in his solar surrounded by tax reports, harvest counts, and other matters for the Warden of the Westerlands. Tywin had rebuilt his family’s name after his weak father had almost destroyed them.

The Lannister name was no longer sneered at or sniggered at. It was a name revered and feared. Soon, his grandson would sit upon the Iron Throne one day.

A knock on Tywin's solar door interrupts his reading of a tax report. “Enter", he barked.

“I’m sorry to intrude, Lord Tywin. A raven from King’s Landing for your attention, my lord.” The long-serving Maester of Casterly Rock, Maester Creylen, held a scroll in his hand bearing the seal of the Hand of the King. That position was now held by Stannis Baratheon.

“Thank you, Maester; that will be all.” Tywin broke the seal and began to read.

To Lord Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West.

His Grace King Robert I, of his name of House Baratheon, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, invites you to King’s Landing for the trial of Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister and Lord Lancel of House Lannister.

Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister stands accused of high treason, incest, cuckolding, attempted regicide of His Grace King Robert, and passing off her bastard children Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen Waters, born of incest between Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister and her brother Ser Jaime of House Lannister, and adultery.

Lord Lancel of House Lannister stands accused of conspiring with Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister for the attempted regicide of King Robert, the attempted regicide of King Robert, adultery, and high treason.

Ser Jaime of House Lannister stands accused of high treason, incest, cuckolding, adultery, and breaking his Kingsguard vows. A bounty of 5,000 Gold Dragons is placed upon the head of Ser Jaime Lannister for his capture, dead or alive, to be brought to King’s Landing to face King’s Justice for the crimes he stands accused of.

Hand of the King: Lord Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Dragonstone.

Tywin’s blood pressure rose as he read every word of the raven from King’s Landing. His children. Tywin snorted to himself. Everything he had built, they would topple with their stupidity. 

Tywin opened the next scroll from King’s Landing.

His Grace King Robert I, of his name of House Baratheon: King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.

Renounces Prince Joffrey Baratheon, Princess Myrcella Baratheon, and Prince Tommen Baratheon, names, and titles. To be known from this day as Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen Waters. Stripped of all titles of House Baratheon of King’s Landing and the name of House Baratheon and disinherited of any aforementioned titles.

Hand of the King: Lord Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Dragonstone.

Tywin feared for his grandchildren and his eldest son. They were in the North in the clutches of the Starks. Eddard Stark would not hesitate to send Jaime to King’s Landing with or without his head. 

Tommen and Myrcella were hostages to the Starks now. War was brewing, and war would come; it was only a matter of time.

High Garden—the Reach 

299 AC.

Lord Mace Tyrell may rule Highgarden and the Reach, but truly, it was his mother, Dowager Lady Olenna Tyrell, most commonly referred to as the Queen of Thorns for her sharp wit and razor-sharp tongue.

Olenna would ensure her granddaughter would be queen one day, but the crown prince was not promised to anyone. His betrothal to the former Hand of the King’s daughter, Sansa Stark, was broken a few moons ago.

“My lady, a raven from King’s Landing for Lord Mace.” A servant came forward with two scrolls in hand.

Olenna took the scrolls, dismissing the servant.

To Lord Mace Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden, Lord Paramount of the Mander, Defender of the Marches, High Marshal of the Reach, and Warden of the South

His Grace King Robert I, of his name of House Baratheon, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, invites you to King’s Landing for the trial of Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister and Lord Lancel of House Lannister.

Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister stands accused of high treason, incest, cuckolding, attempted regicide of His Grace King Robert, and passing off her bastard children Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen Waters, born of incest between Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister and her brother Ser Jaime of House Lannister, and adultery.

Lord Lancel of House Lannister stands accused of conspiring with Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister for the attempted regicide of King Robert, the attempted regicide of King Robert, adultery, and high treason.

Ser Jaime of House Lannister stands accused of high treason, incest, cuckolding, adultery, and breaking his Kingsguard vows. A bounty of 5,000 Gold Dragons is placed upon the head of Ser Jaime Lannister for his capture, dead or alive, to be brought to King’s Landing to face King’s Justice for the crimes he stands accused of.

Hand of the King: Lord Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Dragonstone.

Hmm, this was very interesting. The King would need a wife. Margarey would be Queen. Baratheon was only of use to them till he got Maragery with child. If the child were a boy. Then Robert would outlive his usefulness.

The Queen of Thrones opened the next scroll

His Grace King Robert I, of his name of House Baratheon: King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.

Renounces Prince Joffrey Baratheon, Princess Myrcella Baratheon and Prince Tommen Baratheon, names and titles. To be known from this day as Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen Waters. Stripped of all titles of House Baratheon of King’s Landing and name of House Baratheon and disinherited of any aforementioned titles.

Hand of the King: Lord Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Dragonstone.

Olenna smiled gleefully as she read the scrolls from King’s Landing. The Lannister/Baratheon alliance was finished. The king would need a new bride to give him an heir.

Margaery’s dream of being queen would come true.

Winterfell, the North 

299/300 AC.

Robb Stark was taken aback by the ravens he’d received from King’s Landing. The queen and her cousin were accused of trying to kill the king, among other things.

Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen had been declared bastards of incest between the queen and her brother, and as a result, disinherited and named Waters.

There had been a third raven asking for Ser Jaime Lannister to be brought to King’s Landing to face the King’s Justice for his crimes. There was one slight problem with that.

The Kingslayer had never set foot in the North; he didn’t arrive with Prince Tommen and Princess Myrcella when they came to Winterfell to foster. Robb had no clue where the disgraced knight was.

“I think that’s why Bran was pushed from that tower. He caught the queen and her twin brother in the Broken Tower. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“Aye, it does. Bran still doesn’t remember anything about that day, Robb agreed.

“The king will be expecting your father to come south for the trial.”

“I will go in his stead. I will make excuses for why Father didn’t come. Don’t worry, Mother, I will be careful. I won’t go South alone. I’ll take Theon, Uncle Benjen, and two dozen of my best men with me.” Robb tried to assure his mother that he would be fine.

“What of Myrcella and Tommen?”

“The King didn’t ask for them to be brought to King’s Landing, only the Kingslayer, and he’s who knows where. Robb paused. “They can remain here for as long as they please.”

“You be careful, Robb. Starks don’t fare well in the South.”

“I will be careful, Mother,” Robb promised; he made a mental note to send word to his father of what happened in King’s Landing with the discovery of Queen Consort Cersei’s treachery.

War clouds were circling, and there will be war before the year is out.

Chapter Text

Chapter 15

Winterfell, the North 

299/300 AC.

Robb dreamed the strangest dream. His long-dead Aunt Lyanna came to him. Warning against going South. Wolves don’t fare well in the South. She spoke in cryptic tones, hinting that he should go to the crypts below Winterfell. Had he drunk too much ale the night before when he’d visited the ale houses with Theon the night before?

Robb couldn’t make heads or tails of the dream of why his Aunt Lyanna was warning him not to go south and search the crypts. Robb approached his Uncle Benjen to speak of the dream he had had the night before.

“Lyanna warned you not to go South and search the crypts,” Benjen questioned.

“Aye. You don’t think me mad, Uncle Benjen.”

“No, Robb, I had a similar dream. She was warning me not to let you go to King’s Landing and search the crypts. Why she wants to go to the crypts, I don’t know. I don’t understand the dreams either,” Benjen answered. “Sometimes the Gods speak to us through our ancestors, perhaps. There would be a reason why Lyanna came to us, Robb. The Gods work in mysterious ways.”

That was how the heir to Winterfell and his Uncle Benjen found themselves in the crypts. Greywind sniffed at the ground ahead of them. Robb led the way, holding the torch. While the main area of the crypts was lit by torches on the walls. The deeper and older parts of the crypts were not. 

Greywind continued to sniff at the ground. 

Greywind stopped. His yellow eyes peered into the darkness in front of him. “What is it, boy?” Robb questioned.

There was a growl from the darkness. Robb shined the torch in the direction Greywind’s eyes were fixated. Robb drew back in shock. Was it fear? A cold set of ice-blue eyes meets his. A mouthful of blackened, sharp teeth greeted him as well.

“Seven fucking hells, is that a baby dragon?” Benjen uttered as he took the torch from Robb.

The dragon was black as the night sky, but its eyes were ice blue. “Where did it come from?”

“Who knows? One thing is for sure, Nephew. Dragons have returned to the world…. The little one is not alone. There are at least five dragon eggs that haven’t hatched yet.”

Benjen noted the five dragon eggs that lay to the left of the dragon hatchling. “What are we going to do with it?”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Benjen cautiously approached the baby dragon they’d found in the crypts. The hatchling watched him with curious ice-blue eyes. Benjen slowly edged closer, holding out his hand to the hatchling to sniff him. Perhaps convince the dragon that they meant no harm.

The dragon chirped as he sniffed Benjen’s hand. Perhaps the hatchling knew Benjen meant them no harm. Did dragons even have sexes? Greywind sniffed at the dragon.

The hatchling tilted his head to the side and looked at the direwolf in puzzlement for a few moments. The hatchling chambered past Benjen, climbing up onto Greywind’s back and making themself comfortable.

Both Benjen and Robb were stunned by what they had just witnessed. Dragons had indeed returned to the world. Now there were four dragons in the world, and many more would come.

Castle Black—the Gift—the North 

299/300 AC

The Long Forgotten Dragon Maester Aemon had been dreaming more and more of dragons. He cursed the gods for taking his eyesight. He longed to see King’s Landing and Dragonstone again.

Summerhall was gone, as was most of Aemon’s family, or so he thought. A great-great-something niece was living in exile in Essos. News from Essos was slow. It was several moons after Viserys died that the news filtered through to Castle Black.

A dragon alone in the world is a terrible thing. His constant dreams of dragons had to be a sign from the gods. That he was not the last of his house. 

Lord Commander Mormont and 200 Night Watchmen would depart tomorrow for a mission beyond the Wall. There had been whispers for many years of the dark evilness lurking beyond the Wall.

The Wildings had been gathering in numbers for many years. More so in the last two years. Under the command of one man. Mance Rayder, a former member of the Night’s Watch.

“Any ravens today, Samwell?” Aemon asked his newest steward. The former heir of Hornhill.

Samwell Tarly had joined the Night’s Watch reluctantly almost a year ago. The boy was on the large side. Many taunted the former heir to Hornhill. Calling him Lord Piggy or Ser Piggy.

“News from Essos. Maester Aemon. Daenerys Targaryen birthed twins to her husband, Khal Maekal: a son, whom she named Aemon, and a daughter named Rhaella for her mother. It’s said, " Samwell read from the raven with news from Essos.

“The Dragon must have three heads,” Aemon muttered to himself. He was not the last dragon. House Targaryen would live on through Daenerys. Gods, how he wished he had his sight and could leave Castle Black and the cold of the North.

He wished to spend his last years with his only kin. He knew Samwell would never betray his vows. But he was an old man of a hundred name days—well, a hundred and one name days.

“There was another raven for you, Maester Aemon. From Winterfell.” 

“Read it to me, Samwell.” Aemon was eager to hear why he had a raven from Winterfell.

Maester Aemon of the Night’s Watch 

I don’t know where to begin this tale, Maester. Our families' histories have not been the kindest in the last twenty years. But that is best left in the past. A situation has arisen at Winterfell. 

We require your assistance in dealing with this situation. We will explain more when you come to Winterfell. I will send an escort and a wheelhouse to transport you to Winterfell. I eagerly await your answer.

Acting Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North: Lord Robb Stark 

Aemon was curious as to why the Starks were asking him to Winterfell, as there was bad blood between House Stark and House Targaryen due to events almost twenty years ago.

“Samwell, escort me to Lord Commander Mormont’s solar, if you please.”

Sam helped the old maester to Lord Commander Mormont’s chambers. 

“Maester Aemon," the Old Bear of Bear Island asked.

“Lord Commander, could I have a word if you're not too busy with First Ranger Thorn?” Aemon asked.

“You may, Maester. First Ranger Thorne and I are finished.” Thorne took his leave. Leaving Mormont’s chambers.

“Now, Aemon, what was it you wanted to speak with me about?”

“I received this raven from House Stark. Asking me to go to Winterfell to help with a situation that has arisen there. They believe I can be of assistance.” Aemon handed the scroll to Mormont.

“And you wish to go, Maester?”

“The Starks have been quite generous to the Watch over the years. Providing men, arms, and food. Perhaps while I am there, I can ask for more food, men, and supplies, Aemon countered.

The Old Bear rubbed his chin. The maester had a point. The Starks had been quite generous to them over the years. Helping the Watch far more than Crown had ever done in decades, if not hundreds of years, more than other pampered Southern Lords.

“Aye, I will grant you leave to go to Winterfell. I will send an escort with you.” The Old Bear agreed to allow Aemon to go to Winterfell. 

The Old Maester could at last have a chance to find his long-lost family. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 16

Winterfell, the North 

299/300 AC.

The young dragon hatchling Robb and Benjen had found in the crypts was growing quickly. The hatchling didn’t take to anyone. But she wasn’t overall aggressive to anyone save for Septa Mordane once or twice.

Maester Luwin had helped care for the hatchling. Robb and Benjen kept a tight lid on who knew about the dragon. The fewer people who knew, the better. 

Word had come from Castle Black; the serving maester, a member of House Targaryen, had answered that he was coming to Winterfell with a Night’s Watch escort.

The maester and his escort would be here in a few days. Rooms were being prepared. For their forthcoming visit to Winterfell. Robb was at a loss to do with the dragon hatchling and the eggs they had found in the crypts.

Robb had written a reply to the raven from Stannis Baratheon about the invitation to King’s Landing for the trial of Queen Consort Cersei and her cousin Lord Lancel Lannister.

Robb remarked that Jaime Lannister had never set foot in the North, and they had no clue where the Kingslayer was. They would keep an eye out for him.

Neither Robb nor his father would be able to attend, as they were dealing with matters of increased wildling raids and attacks south of the Wall. Robb didn’t know or care if they believed him or not.

A Few Days Later.

Word came that morning that. Maester Aemon and his escort had been spotted on the road from Castle Black; they were a few miles away.

Robb and Benjen gathered in the yard with Theon. Catelyn was tending to her duties as Lady of Winterfell. Sansa, Arya, and Lyarra were at their lessons. Rodrik, Rickon, and Bran were in the training yard. 

Even though Bran had lost the use of his legs. Bran was determined to be still able to fight and look after himself. He had become fascinated by the Dothraki, particularly their skill of using a bow on horseback and being deadly accurate.

Theon had made a makeshift shooting gallery for Bran to practice on his horse with the saddle Tyrion Lannister had designed for him. Bran was improving every day. 

Four riders rode into the courtyard of Winterfell. An old man who looked to be a hundred name days or older was helped down from his horse by the bigger of the three nightwatchmen who had ridden to Winterfell with the elderly maester.

“Maester Aemon, welcome to Winterfell. Rooms have been made for you and your companions.” Robb welcomed them to Winterfell.

“Thank you, Lord Stark. I am curious as to why you asked me to come to Winterfell.”

“Once you have settled in, we can speak then, Maester,” Robb called for Vayon Poole, the steward of Winterfell, to show Aemon and his companions to their rooms in the guest wing of the keep.

Robb and Benjen settled in the Lord of Winterfell’s solar, waiting for the aging maester to join them. The dragon hatchling had been fetched along with the dragon eggs they had found in the crypts.

There was a knock on the Lord of Winterfell’s solar. “Enter,” Robb answered.

Maester Aemon came in escorted by his Black Brother. The maester grasped the arm of the bigger of the three.

“Thank you, Grenn,” Aemon said to the one called Grenn.

“Now, Lord Stark, why did you ask me here?”

“Maester, my Uncle Benjen and I were checking the older and lower levels of the crypts when we found this little one.” Robb nodded to Benjen to bring the hatchling to the blind maester.

The hatchling climbed out of Benjen’s arms, clambering up onto Maester Aemon’s lap. It chirped and burrowed its head under the aging maester’s hand. “A Dragon Hatchling. A few moons old now.”

“Aye, we found five unhatched dragon eggs with them,” Robb answered. 

“There are four dragons in the world now. The most logical thing you can do with her and the unhatched dragon eggs is take them to the East. To my great niece, Daenerys Targaryen. 

Before long, this little one will grow, and it will become known that there is a dragon in the North.” Aemon advised.

“It would be the best course of action, Nephew. Taking the dragon and the eggs to your cousin, and Daenerys Targaryen.” Aemon’s ear pricked up at the word “cousin” Had Rhaegar had a son with Lyanna Stark? 

Rhaegar and he had written to one another quite frequently till the Rebellion, and little during the Rebellion before Rhaegar was killed at the Ruby Ford, and it all went to Seven Hells for their family.

The Red Keep - King’s Landing - the Crownlands

299/300 AC.

All of the Lords and Ladies of the Realm gathered in King’s Landing save for a few, mainly House Stark, House Manderly had come in House Stark’s stead. Both Ned and his son Robb were unable to attend due to increased Wilding Raids and attacks South of the Wall, such that the Warden of the North and his heir had gone to investigate.

A tribunal of judges was made up for the trial of Queen Consort Cersei and Lord Lancel Lannister for their many crimes. The third accused, Ser Jaime Lannister, had still not been found, and the bounty on his head had been increased to 10,000 gold dragons. 

Still, there had been no word of the Kingslayer nor a single sighting of the former heir to Casterly Rock. The once-proud Lion Tywin Lannister was not so proud now. 

His children had brought disgrace to the Lannister name. His grandchildren had been named bastards. 

The tribunal of judges consisted of the Hand of the King, Lord Stannis Baratheon, Lord Renly Baratheon, Ser Edmure Tully, heir to Riverrun (coming in his aling father’s stead), Lord Mace Tyrell,  Lord Damon Marbrand, and Princess Arianne Martell acting in her father’s stead, along with Yohn Royce representing the Vale and Lord Wyman Manderly for the North.

The trial would take place in the Throne Room of the Red Keep. Robert sat on the Iron Throne. Varys stood to the side watching. 

“Bring forth the accused”, Stannis called.

The once proud lioness Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister was not so proud after months locked in the Black Cells, her co-accused Lancel Lannister stood beside her.

His head hung low. A hearld came forth to read the numerous charges the pair were charged with.

“Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister stands accused of high treason, incest, cuckolding, attempted regicide of His Grace King Robert, and passing off her bastard children Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen Waters, born of incest between Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister and her brother Ser Jaime of House Lannister, and adultery.

Lord Lancel of House Lannister stands accused of conspiring with Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister for the attempted regicide of King Robert, the attempted regicide of King Robert, incest, adultery, and high treason.”The hearld read the charges against the pair.

“Lord Lancel of House Lannister, how do you plead to the following charges of conspiring with Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister for the attempted regicide of King Robert, the attempted regicide of King Robert, adultery, and high treason?” Stannis questioned.

“I… never wanted to do any of this. She made me do it,” Lancel stammered.”When my Uncle Lord Tywin named me Squire to his Grace, he told me to obey her every instruction”

“Did that include fucking her?” Yohn Royce questioned.

“It just happened.”

“So, she unexpectedly found herself in a compromising situation with you, Lannister," Stannis scoffed. The trial was a mere formality; both were as guilty as sin. They face the King’s Justice soon enough. Stannis could only hope there was not an all-out war. His eyes swung to where Tywin Lannister sat with his son Tyrion beside him. “Your plea, Lord Lannister. Guilty or Not Guilty.”

“I wish to take the Black.”

“That’s a guilty plea, then. The evidence against you both is overwhelming. The punishment for treason is death, Lord Lannister. Taking the Black is not an option in this case, as the evidence against you and your cousin is overwhelming.

But you may plead your case anyway.” Stannis sat back.

“Your Grace, my Lords. I did not wish to do any of this. My cousin. Queen Ceseri. It was all her idea to poison the king’s wine on the hunt. To make it look like a hunting accident.”

“On the charges of conspiring with Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister for the attempted regicide of King Robert, the attempted regicide of King Robert. How do you plead?”

“Guilty, my lord,” Lancel pleaded.

“On the charges of adultery and high treason, how do you plead?”

“Guilty, my lord,” Lancel pleaded.

“The tribunal will take into consideration your guilty pleas. Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister, how do you plead to the following charges of high treason, incest, cuckolding, attempted regicide of His Grace King Robert, and passing off her bastard children Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen Waters, born of incest between Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister and her brother Ser Jaime of House Lannister, and adultery?” Stannis turned to Cersei next.

“Not guilty, I have nothing to be ashamed of… the Targaryens wed brothers and sisters for hundreds of years. Why should Jaime and I be ashamed of our love?” Tyrion wished his sister would quit while she was ahead.

Several witnesses were called to give evidence. After the last witness had testified. “How do we find the accused Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister on the following charges of high treason, incest, cuckolding, attempted regicide of His Grace King Robert, and passing off her bastard children Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen Waters, born of incest between Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister and her brother Ser Jaime of House Lannister, and adultery?”

“Guilty" came the answer from all the judges on the tribunal. 

“Cersei of House Lannister, you have been found guilty on all charges. You will be executed tomorrow at noon on the steps of the Sept of Baelor. May the Gods have mercy on your soul.” 

“How do we find the accused Lord Lancel of House Lannister on charges of conspiring with Queen Consort Cersei of House Lannister for the attempted regicide of King Robert, the attempted regicide of King Robert, adultery, and high treason?”Stannis questioned.

“Guilty" came the answer from the tribunal.

“Lancel of House Lannister, you have been found guilty on all charges. You will be executed tomorrow at noon on the steps of the Sept of Baelor. May the Gods have mercy on your soul.”  Stannis passed sentence on both Cersei and Lancel.

“Formerly Prince Joffrey of House Baratheon, now Joffrey Waters, is sentenced to take the Black. He will be transported to Castle Black, where he will swear his vows.”The final order was given.

Chapter Text

Chapter 17

Qarth, the Essos 

300 AC.

Qarth was their first stop on the long road to gather ships, men, and gold to take back Daenerys’s birthright. His khalasar was eager for battle. It had been many moons since they had a good fight. 

Taking Qarth would give them the ships needed to continue their campaign to take back Daenerys’s birthright. Many moons have passed since they left Vaes Dothrak. Maekar taught Dany to defend herself. Wielding a lighter and slightly smaller Arakh.

The dragons continued to grow, as did the twins. They were a few moons old now. Maekar wondered about his family and his past. The dragon Rhaegal had chosen him after he and his brothers, Sȳndror and Aegarax, hatched the day the twins were born. Aegarax had chosen Aemon while Rhaella was without a dragon.

Why Rhaegal had chosen and bonded with Maekar, he didn’t know. Perhaps he had some blood of the dragon in him from either of his parents' sides. His knowledge about his mother and father was limited. His father died when he was three, and his mother died giving birth to him.

Four groups vied for dominance within Qarth: the Purebloods, the Thirteen, the Tourmaline Brotherhood, and the Ancient Guild of Spicers all controlled some part of the city.

Gathering ships for their cause would mean they would have to make a pact with one of the four groups or just take the city and their ships. 

A group of men and soldiers met them outside the city gates of Qarth when Maekar, Daenerys, and their blood riders approached. The rest of their khalasar was not far away. Half a mile at most.

“You are a long way from the Dothraki Sea. Khal Maekal. Why have you come?” One of the men demanded.

“We come for ships to transport our army,” Maekar answered.

“Army. A ragtag bunch of horse-fucking savages,” one brave man spat.

“Easy there. I would watch the tone of how you speak to us. My Khalasar has not had a decent fight in months. They thirst for blood. And I will incline to allow them to quench their thirst for blood and fighting. Which one of you pampered fuckers is in charge here?” Maekar drew Dawn from his back scabbard. Ghost, not to be left out, snarled and bared his teeth.

“What do the Dothraki want with ships? They fear the water. Poisoned Water,” Smartass number three piped up.

“They do so in my name. I am Daenerys Stormborn, of the blood of Old Valyria, and I will take what is mine. With fire and blood, I will take it.”

“A woman,” another scoffed. “Is she the Khal and you the Khaleesi?”

“Careful, my friend; the last man to insult my wife did not meet a pleasant end.” Ghost backed up Maekar’s veiled threat, bearing his teeth and growling at the men. 

“My friends, perhaps we can talk peacefully about this.” Another man interjected.

“Khal Maekal, there is no need for bloodshed. I’m sure we can talk about this peacefully, like. I am Xaro Xhoan Daxos, a member of the Thirteen.” The man, Xaro Xhoan Daxos, introduced himself.

“Our demands are simple, Xaro. Give us the ship, or we'll take the city and take them anyway. The reputation of the Dotharki is founded, as is the reputation of my husband.

See how long his braid is; he’s never been defeated in battle.” Daenerys laid her terms on the table. Maekar and his khalasar fought in Dany’s name.

“Why would we give to a foreign Valyrian whore married to a Dothraki savage? What’s to stop us from killing the lot of you and mounting your heads on spikes to adorn our walls?”

“My children,” Daenerys said simply. The dragons had been flying high in the sky. The three dragons were big enough to spit flames now. The dragons, like their big brother Ghost, were very protective of their mother and were not kind to threats levelled at their mother.

Sȳndror and Aegarax landed on Dany’s shoulder, hissing and baring their razor-sharp black teeth. Rheagal, meanwhile, landed on Maekar’s shoulder, like his brothers, and showed his displeasure at the disrespect shown to their mother and father.

 One of the men was brave or stupid as he drew his blade. Ghost launched himself at the man. Clamping his teeth into the man’s sword arm. Taking the man’s hand in one powerful bite of his jaw.

Ghost spat the man’s now dismembered hand from his mouth. 

“Anyone else wish to try their luck drawing their sword then? Do we have an accord, gentlemen? As many ships as my people need, as well as supplies, or do we take the city?” Daenerys countered.

“Fine, you can have as many ships as you please.” The ugly one with a scar on his left cheek spat. Turning his horse around, he barked orders at his men before riding off.

They now had ships; that was a start. But they would need more men, gold, and supplies before they could return to Westeros; till then, they would build their strength and coffers before returning to claim Daenerys’s birthright.

Casterly Rock—the Westerlands 

300 AC.

Tywin Lannister returned to Casterly Rock with the bodies of his daughter and nephew, minus their heads. They were mounted on the walls of the Red Keep as a warning and further punishment.

Stannis had raised the taxes on the Westerlands by 35% as a further punishment and humiliation, and any debts the Crown had with House Lannister were wiped. Kevan was livid and wanted vengeance as much as Tywin did.

The Lannister name had been tarnished and trampled into dust. All the work Tywin had done to restore pride and prestige to the Lannister name had been trampled to dust by the foolish actions of his children and nephew.

Jaime was in the wind; who knows where? Two of his grandchildren were hostages in the North; the oldest one had been sentenced to take the Black. The lustful, spiteful creature that killed his beloved Joanna was all that was left of his ‘children.’

“We need to act, Tywin. My son’s head rots on the Walls of the Red Keep alongside your daughter. Yet you do nothing. House Lannister’s name is slandered no better than Blackfyre’s or Targaryen’s.”

“We will, Kevan. In time. Acting rashly is exactly what they want. Robert Baratheon and all those who tore down our family name will pay. You can rest assured of that,” Tywin said dismissively.

“How exactly do you plan to accomplish this, Father?” Tyrion questioned.

“I made Robert Baratheon a king; I can unmake him a king,” Tywin answered.

“How exactly?” Kevan questioned.

“The Targaryen girl. Viserys Targaryen is dead, yes. But Daenerys Targaryen still lives; she has a son and heir… If she plans to return and take back the Iron Throne from the Baratheons. Then she will need allies.

Which is why I am sending you and your cutthroat to Essos to find Jaime, bring him home, and make an alliance with the Targaryen girl.” Tyrion looked at his father in disbelief.

“Why would Daenerys Targaryen ally with us? Her good sister, nephew, and niece were killed on your orders.” Tyrion questioned

“Vengeance is a powerful motive, Tyrion.”

“Father, who’s to say that Daenerys Targaryen will even agree to an alliance with us, given the history between House Targaryen and Lannister? And what if Jaime doesn’t wish to return?

I am your only other son. I am your heir. Casterly Rock is mine by right.”

“And why would I give Casterly Rock to you? I would sooner leave it to Tommen than to you. You are nothing more than a lustful, spiteful creature who killed your mother coming into this world.

I will not let you turn Casterly Rock into your personal whorehouse.” Every one of his father’s words stung.

Pentos—the Esso

300 AC.

After several moons staying at Illyrio Mopatis’s manse. Ned, Edric Dayne, Ned’s son with Ashara William, Ser Oswell Whent, and Ser Jaime Lannister were departing.

The Spider had revealed to them finally where Ned’s nephew, Maekar, and Daenerys Targaryen were. They had been in Qarth for the last few moons. Gathering ships and supplies.

Ned had a great nephew, Aemon, and niece, Rhaella, born some moons earlier. Ned was not surprised when word came of the queen and her cousins' arrest, nor the discovery of the parentage of the 'royal children.'

The Old Lion would take the insults to his family’s name lightly; the Old Lion would strike eventually. Tywin knew how to play the game better than anyone. 

Ned was disturbed and disgusted when Robb wrote to him that Robert was the man Ned had once called his friend. Had written asking for Sansa’s hand. Robb had swiftly turned it down, stating that Sansa was already betrothed to the heir of Dreadfort. Domeric Bolton. Well, now, Lord of the Dreadfort. 

Roose was killed by his bastard son, Ramsay Snow, for whatever reason. Ramsay was soon arrested, and the sentence was carried out by Robb. The lessons Ned’s father had taught him and his brothers.

‘Ours is the old way, Ned: the man who carries out the sentence should swing the sword.’. But in Domeric’s case, it would have been labelled kinslaying if he’d done it.

Ned was not sorry to see Roose Bolton and his mad, sadistic bastard son dead. Ned had heard disturbing rumours and stories about the bastard of the Dreadfort.

Love seemed to be in the air in Winterfell, at least. Theon Greyjoy, of all people, had settled and wedded. Marrying Sansa’s long-time childhood friend, Jeyne Poole. Though the marriage had been rushed and hushed, as Jeyne was with child when they wed in the Godswoods a moon or so ago.

Robb himself was trying to find himself a wife. Ned only wanted his children to find happiness and love in their own marriages. Ned and Catelyn had not married for love, but more so for duty. It became love as the years passed. A part of Ned’s heart would always belong to Ashara.

“NED”—Ned swore he heard his brother Benjen calling to him. “NED.” There it was again.

“Ned, you deaf fucker.” It was Benjen’s voice he heard. Ned swung around to see Benjen standing behind. By the fucking gods, had it really been a year since Ned had set eyes on Benjen? Not since the day they parted when Ned rode south with Sansa and Arya for King’s Landing to be Robert’s hand. That now feels like a lifetime ago.

“Ben… What are you doing here?” Ned questioned as he embraced his brother.

“We’ve come to find Makear and deliver something to him. Ned, this is Aemon Targaryen: son of Maekar I, brother of Aegon V… Uncle to Jaehaerys II, great-uncle to Aerys II, great-great-uncle to Rhaegar, and third-times-great-uncle to Maekar.

Former brother of the Night’s Watch and Maester of the Citadel.” Benjen made the introductions.

“It seems the Gods have a sense of humour. We were leaving to find Maekar as well,” Ned explained.

“Where are they?”

“Lord Varys said that they are sailing from Qarth to Astapor soon. We will meet up with them there,” Ned answered.

A hooded figure stood not far away. The King and Queen were going to Astapor. He headed for a ship bound for Astapor.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18

Astapor, the Essos.

300 AC.

The voyage from Qarth to Astapor had been rough for the Dothraki. As they had never sailed before. Maekar had been on a ship once, many years ago, when he was still a babe, when he left Westeros with his father and sailed across the Narrow Sea.

Ghost lay on the deck, sunning himself. Aemon and Rhaella had begun to crawl; they would walk soon. Neither twin had yet to begin talking, just baby babble.

Both Maekar and Dany agreed that twins were enough of a handful for now. There would be time for more babies in the future, right now. Aemon and Rhaella were more than enough.

Maekar was unsure of the true number of ships they had taken from Qarth to ferry the Khalasar from Qarth to Astapor. Maekar leaned on the railing at the helm of the head ship named Balerion. 

Jorah Mormont stayed with them still. Even after all the time Mormont had been with them. Though he swore he was loyal to Maekar and Daenerys. Maekar still didn’t trust the once Lord of Bear Island; something about him still rubbed Maekar the wrong way.

The dragons flew between the ships, playing and frolicking in the air and the water. Hunting fish and burning them. Sȳndror was a mama’s boy, always showing off for Daenerys. 

Sȳndror threw the fish in the air, burning it with his black and red flame before swallowing it whole in a matter of seconds. Sydnor landed on the railing. Demanding attention from his mother.

Dany scratched Sȳndror under the chin. He chirped happily, closing his eyes. Rhaegal landed near Maekar, demanding head and chin scratches.

“They’re growing fast, Khalessi.”

“Not fast enough.” Daenerys had a conversation with Mormont.

Sȳndror flew off, joining his smaller brother in the sky. Rhaegal soon joined them. “It could be years before they are big enough to ride. We need more men and gold if we are to take back the Iron Throne.”

“If the winds and tides are kind to us. We’ll reach Astapor by sunset or earlier,” Mormont commented.

“Mormont,” Maekar spoke silently, asking the knight to leave. So Maekar and Daenerys could speak in private. 

“Khal, Khalessi,” Mormont nodded, taking his leave.

Maekar walked behind his wife. Wrapping his long, thick arms around Daenerys’s waist. Pulling her back into his chest. 

“What’s wrong, my moon and stars? You are on edge. What’s the matter?” Maekar murmured into Dany’s neck, placing a few loving kisses there.

“I hate the idea of buying slave soldiers.”

“You will be freeing them. When they fight for us, they will do so as free men. The Unsullied are the best infantry in Essos. We will need them if we are to take back the Iron Throne.

Taking it back will be without bloodshed and sacrifice.” Maekar kissed the side of Dany’s head.

“I know. I just hate the masquerade I must play to free them.”

“You have a good heart, Dany. You are freeing them and giving them a better life.” Maekar held Dany against his chest.

Astapor, the Essos.

300 AC.

Their large convoy of ships reached Astapor in the early evening of the previous day. That morning, Daenerys, Mormont, Maekar, and their blood riders met the man from whom they were purchasing the Unsullied.

Kraznys mo Nakloz. 

“The Unsullied have stood her for a day and a night. With no food or water.” The slave translator, named Missandei, translated the Low Valyrian that Krazyns spoke.

“They will stand until they drop.” Maekar knew some Low Valyrian. However, he was more fluent in High Valyrian, just as Dany was. Ghost followed like a silent shadow as they entered a courtyard where some Unsullied were waiting for them.

“Such is their obedience.” Maekar, like Daenerys, was playing a role. Making it seem like he only understood some common tongue and Dothraki. 

“They may suit my needs. Tell me of their training.”

“Se Vesterozia ābra iksis kreni lēda zirȳ. Yn speaks daor rijagon naejot gaomagon se odre ilagon. Ziry wishes naejot gīmigon skorkydoso issi trained,” Maekar heard Missandei say to Kraznys mo Nakloz. (The Westerosi woman is pleased with them. But speaks no praise to keep the price down. She wishes to know how they are trained.

“Ivestragon zirȳla skoros ziry would hae naejot gīmigon se sagon adere nūmāzma ziry. Se tubis iksis bāne.” Kraznys mo Nakloz spat in Valyrian, "Tell her what she would like to know and be quick about it. The day is hot.

 “They begin their training at five name days. Every day, they drill from dawn to dusk. Until they master the shortsword, the shield, and the three spears. Only one in four boys survives the rigorous training. Their discipline and loyalty are absolute. They fear nothing.”

“Even the bravest men fear death,” Mormont commented.

“Se azantys vestras sesīr nēdenka vali zūgagon morghon” Missandei translated in Valyrian (the knight says even brave men fear death).

“Ivestragon se uēpa vala ziry smells hen orgoz” (Tell the old man he smells of piss).

“Drējī āeksio” The slave translator asked, "Truly, Master?"

 “daor daor drējī. Issi ao riña iā iā hubre naejot epagon such iā run.” (No, not truly. Are you a girl or a goat to ask such a thing?)

“My master says the Unsullied are not men. They fear nothing. Death means nothing to them.” Missandei translated into the common tongue.

“Ivestragon bisa ignorate līve iā westerner naejot open zirȳla laesi se urnēbagon.” Maekar kept his cool. He wanted nothing more than to kill the bald cunt. (Tell this ignorant Westerner whore to open her eyes and watch.)

“My master asks you to pay close attention to this, Your Grace.”

“Tell the Good Master there is no need,” Daenerys spoke up as Kraznys mo Nakloz took the nipple of an Unsullied in one hand and a dagger in the other.

“Ziry worries nūmāzma pōja nipples.” (She worries about their nipples.)

“Gaomas bisa doru-borto aspo daor gīmigon īlon've already nektogon hen pōja balls” Kraznys cut off the Unsullied nipples as if he were cutting bread to break his fast.

“My master points out they do not need nipples.”

Kesīr iksan gaomagon lēda ao. Bisy iksis kreni naejot emagon dohaertan ao” (Here I'm done with you. This one is pleased to have served you.

“To earn a shield, an Unsullied must go to the slave markets and, with a silver mark, find a newborn and kill it before its mother’s eyes. This way, my master says we make certain there is no weakness left in them.” Maekar was horrified and disgusted by what he heard. The Dothraki were said to be savages. Not even a Dothraki would kill a newborn babe before their mother just to prove he was a warrior and a soldier.

“You take a babe from its mother’s arms, kill it as she watches, and pay for her with a single silver coin.” Dany spat with equal disgust and horror.

“Ziry aks lo ao addemmagon iā sliver gelebo naejot se rūs's muña. Syt zirȳla morghe rūs,” Missandei asked in Valyrian (She asks if you pay a silver coin to the babe's mother for her dead baby.)

“Skoros rāpa vaovaori mittys bisy iksis.” (What a soft mewling fool this one is.)

“My master would like you to know that the silver coin is paid to the baby’s owner, not the mother.”

“How many Unsullied do you have for sale?” Daenerys asked.

Kraznys mo Nakloz held up two lots of ten. 20,000

“Ivestragon se Vesterozia līve ēza ēva hemtubis naejot decide.” Maekar would like nothing more than to make the bastard choke on his cock, but Maekar kept his cool. Losing his temper would do none of them any good. (Tell the Westerosi whore she has until tomorrow to decide.)

“Master Kraznys says you have until tomorrow to decide, and be quick about it, as he has other interested parties.” Missandei and Kraznys mo Nakloz departed.

“It makes me sick to my stomach. Thinking of those 20,000 mothers watching their newborn babes ripped from their arms and murdered in front of them. 

How am I any better than the likes of Kraznys if I buy them?” Daenerys spoke aloud as she, Maekar, Mormont, their blood riders, and Ghost returned Baelerion.

“You are freeing them and giving them a much better life than if someone else bought them,” Maekar argued.

Maekar felt an uneasiness in the pit of his stomach. They were being followed by several men in drawn-up cloaks.

“We’re being followed,” Maekar whispered in Dany’s ear.

“Assassins?” Dany questioned. 

“Possible.” Maekar turned to Jorah. “Take the Khalessi back to the ship,” Maekar ordered.

“Maekar”

“Don’t argue, go.” Maekar wasn’t taking no for an answer. 

Maekar silently directed his blood riders to fan out through the marketplace. Ghost stayed by Maekar’s side as they lay in wait for the hooded figures who were following them.

Maekar brandished his Valyrian steel dagger in his hand. Ghost crept low and followed one hooded figure. He and his friend stopped.

“Where did they go, Semly?”

“I don’t know, Benjen; he has to be in the marketplace somewhere,” the one called Semly answered the one called Benjen.

A heartbeat later, Maekar pounced. His dagger at the throat of one of the hooded figures. Ghost knocked the other down. Standing with two massive paws on his chest. Baring his teeth and snarling.

“Tell the Stag Andal he needs better assassins,” Maekar growled in the common tongue.

“I don’t serve Robert Baratheon. I am no assassin, my King. I served your father once, as I will serve you. I came to find you along with your uncles. To bring you home. 

To fulfil a promise a dear friend of mine made to your mother as she lay dying, birthing you, “What the fuck was going on? Who were these men? Why had his uncles on his father’s or mother’s side chosen now to find him?

“You look like Lyanna, though you have your father’s eyes.” The one named Benjen spoke. Lyanna. Was Lyanna, his mother. Was this man Benjen one of his uncles who had come to Essos to find him? If so, why now?

Chapter Text

Chapter 19

Astapor, the Essos.

300 AC.

Benjen Stark stared into the blood-red eyes of his nephew’s direwolf. How had he come by a direwolf? The direwolf was so much bigger than Ned’s children’s direwolves. 

Benjen gulped as razor-sharp teeth were bared at him. The direwolf’s massive paws kept him pinned to the ground. Ser Barristan Selmy had Maekar’s dagger at his throat.

The lad looked so much like Lyanna, save for his eyes; they were his father’s eyes. He had a similar build to Brandon. Tall and with a stocky, muscular build. Brandon had been the tallest of him: Ned, Lyanna, and Brandon. Their mother, Lyarra, from the little Benjen remembered of her, had been quite tall.

Benjen was unsure where the tall and stocky build came from. Their father had a similar build to Ned, Benjen, and Lyanna. There might have been some Umber blood on his mother’s side.

Perhaps through their grandmother, Arya Flint. Benjen noted the scars and tattoos on Maekar’s skin. He wore two swords. A great sword on his back, Dawn perhaps. And a Dothraki sword. Benjen didn’t recall the name of the Dothraki sword.

It was unlike any weapon Benjen had ever seen before. Most swords were straight; this one was curved like a sickle, used for harvesting wheat and other crops during harvest time.

“Please, Nephew. We come in peace. We mean you no harm. We have been searching for you for many years. Would you call off your direwolf? He is rather heavy.” Benjen looked Maekar dead in the eye.

“Ghost”, he jerked his head to the left. The direwolf got off Benjen. The Direwolf continued to scrutinise him with suspicion.

“Why come to find me now?” Maekar questioned. His dagger at Semly’s throat still.

“I searched for you for many years. After I learned you had been taken by the Dothraki. I thought you were dead or worse. It was only recently that we discovered you were alive.”

“We,” Makear prompted.

“Your other uncle,” Benjen answered as several men dressed like Maekar appeared with Ser Oswell Whent, Ser Jaime Lannister, Ned, and the men who had accompanied Maester Aemon to Winterfell. Where were Maester Aemon, William, and Edric Dayne?

“Disarm eyak akka fichat eyak tat ship,” Maekar ordered in Dothraki. (Disarm them and bring them to the ship.)

They were all disarmed and escorted to a ship flying the colours and sigil of House Targaryen. Benjen recognised Jorah Mormont almost instantly, the disgraced former Lord of Bear Island. He had fled justice in the North several years ago.

Benjen knew from Ned that Mormont had been spying for Varys on the Targaryens; where the former Lord of Bear Island’s loyalty was now was anyone’s guess.

“Maekar, who are these men?” asked Daenerys Targaryen, Maekar’s wife and aunt. 

“They claim to be friends of my father and my uncles. Though we will see. Take them below,” Maekar ordered.

“Just a moment, we would like a moment with the queen and king,” the one called Semly spoke up.

“Ser Joarah, you know these men.”

“Ser Barristan Selmy, one of the finest knights and warriors in the Seven Kingdoms, served your father and family once. Now serves as Lord Commander of King Robert Baratheon’s Kingsguard.

Lord Eddard Stark: Hand to King Robert and blood brother, Lyanna Stark was his sister, and Benjen Stark was his brother. And Ser Oswell Whent, another former member of your father’s Kingsguard,” Jorah made the introductions.

“I once served your family. I failed them. I no longer serve House Baratheon; I have always and will always be loyal to House Targaryen, to the true King of the Seven Kingdoms.” Barristan knelt, as did the one named Oswell Whent. Both looked at Meakar, who stared at them with a blank expression.

Was it possible that Maekar was her brother Rhaegar’s son? A son he had fathered with Lyanna Stark. A true-born son that Ser Barristan Selmy hinted at.

“Perhaps we can talk in private,” Daenerys offered.

“Very well then,” Maekar agreed. They went to an unused cabin. Aemon and Rhaella were well guarded in their cabin. 

“You said that Maekar is the true king of the Seven Kingdoms, Ser Barristan. Explain how that’s possible.”

“The man whom you thought was your father, my king. Was Ser Arthur Dayne, our brother-in-arms, a fellow member of the Kingsguard? He was best friends with your brother, my queen. He and Rhaegar squired together and had been inseparable since they first met as squires, and they were as close as a prince and his Kingsguard can be.

Ser Oswell was there the day his grace was born,” Barristan began, shifting the spotlight to Ser Oswell Whent.

“Your brother, my queen. He never kidnapped or raped Lyanna Stark. He loved her; they both did—he and Princess Elia. The three met during the tourney at Harrenhal,” Oswell began the tale of how Prince Rhaegar, Princess Elia, and Lyanna Stark had met, fallen in love, and wedded, leading to a war that saw House Targaryen deposed.

“After your brother fell on the Trident, Lyanna fell into a depression. She went into labour early after we learned what happened to Princess Elia and her children, your half-brother and sister, during the sacking of King’s Landing. 

Queen Lyanna’s labour was long and difficult. You were born healthy with a good set of lungs. Lyanna lost a lot of blood during the delivery, and there was a complication. She bled to death.

Not before she made Arthur promise to look after you. Arthur and I devised a plan and would meet up sometime later. That never happened. It wasn’t till a few years after Arthur died that I heard about his death and that you had been taken by the Dothraki.

I searched for you to no avail, like Benjen did. It was only in the last two years that I learned of your survival and where you were.” Oswell finished.

“You’re Jaime Lannister, the man who stabbed my father in the back. The king you were sworn to protect.”

“Yes, I stabbed him in the back. Your father was a sadistic madman. He lived up to his name of the Mad King. He was insane. He’d lost all sense of reality by the end. He planned to blow up King’s Landing before the Rebel forces could take it. King’s Landing would have naught but ash and rubble by the time he was finished.

He had a cache of Wildfyre packed beneath the city. Whether they're still there, I don’t know. I told Jon Arryn about them. What the former Lord Hand did about them was another matter.

People can call me Kingslayer or think what they want about me. I broke my Kingsguard vows to uphold the vows I made as a knight to protect the innocent. I couldn’t protect Elia or her children; I have to live with that for the rest of my days. 

But I could stop him from hurting anyone else. Do I regret killing Aerys Targaryen the way I did? No, I don't. No one was safe from him. Not even his own wife. 

After he burned Rickard Stark alive and Brandon Stark choked to death. He raped your mother, Rhaella. The Kingsguard could do nothing to protect her from her husband. We were sworn to protect Aerys, but not the queen.

Do I feel any remorse for what I did? No, I don’t. Aerys Targaryen was a monster that had to be stopped." Jaime concluded.

Just from the little insight Jaime Lannister had given her about her mother and father. Viserys was just like their father. A chip off the old block, as the saying goes.

“All three of you knew my brother Rhaegar. What was he like? Viserys said he liked to kill.” Maekar was eager to learn more about his newly discovered father.

“Your brother Rhaegar didn’t like killing. He was the finest man I've ever met. He preferred books, music, and singing to swordplay. He had no stomach for violence. Barristan chuckled as he recalled the times he, Rhaegar, and Ser Arthur Dayne would sneak away from the Red Keep.

“Many times, we would sneak away from the Red Keep in disguise during the day and many nights. Rhaegar loved to play his harp and sing. Many times, he would pick a spot in the poorer parts of King’s Landing and sing.

Whatever money he made singing, he’d give it to the poor or one of the many orphanages in Flea Bottom and the poorer parts of King’s Landing, or we’d get horrendously drunk and stumble back to the Red Keep.” Barristan laughed as he recalled simpler times.

“And Elia”

“She was a kind and gentle woman. Much too good for this world. She and Rhaegar didn’t marry for love. They loved each other as friends till Lyanna Stark came crashing into their lives. 

Elia had always been a frail thing. She was tall but thin. Having Rhaenys and Aegon very nearly killed here. With Rhaenys, she was confined to her bed for half a year. Having Aegon very nearly killed her.

The maester advised against Elia having another child. Your brother wanted a third child. And he got it. Only he didn’t live to see his son born. When your father led his men at the Battle of the Trident. His men died and fought for him because they believed in him.” Barristan finished.

“I wish I could have known him.” Maekar, too, wished to have known his mother, father, stepmother, and half-siblings. What would his life, well, their lives, have been like had his father won the Battle of the Trident?

“Khal, Khalessi. Three Andals wish to speak with you,” Rakharo said in broken common tongue.

“Show them in Rakhaor,” Maekar replied in the common tongue.

A young man, the spitting image of Eddard Stark, appeared, save for his purple eyes. There was a boy with him; they looked to be related, cousins perhaps. The old man looked to be well over a hundred name days old, or close to it.

“Nephew, niece, come closer. My eyes are not what they once were. I don’t see as well as I once did.” They had more family, it seemed.

“Who are you?” It was Dany who asked.

“I am Aemon, son of Maekar I, brother of Aegon V, uncle of Jaehaerys II, great-uncle of Aerys II, and great-great-uncle to you, niece. I am Maekar’s third-times-great uncle.”

Well, fucking seven hells. This day was just full of surprises, it seemed. They had more long-lost family they had found.