Crowns and Cruel Intentions || Game of Thrones

19| 𝔰𝔞𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔞

the red waste, essos

— WHEN DAENERYS WOKE, SHE DISCOVERED MANY THINGS AT ONCE. Her son was dead. The Khalasar had abandoned them. And Drogo was... nothing really. He breathed. His heart beat. But surviving is not living. "When will he be as he was??"

"When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east." the witch replied simply. "When the seas go dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves." She turned and left, choosing a spot on the cliffs in the sun to sit.

Daenerys stood to follow her. "Leave us."

"I don't want you alone with this sorceress." Jorah said warily.

"I have nothing more to fear from this woman." But something in his eyes made her stop. "What... what is it?"

He looked regretful when he spoke. "There's something else you should know..."

°

When Daenerys entered the twins' tent, it was the smell of death that struck her first. Her stomach dropped. On the bed lay Saelyra... or rather, what used to be Saelyra. Now her soft silver hair was stringy and dull. Her bright face was now dull and drying. Across her throat was a slash wound that had clearly stopped bleeding a long time ago – a red smile from one edge to the other. Back to the bed, knees pulled into her chest with her face down in her arms... was Saerya.

"Gods..." Daenerys breathed, tears pooling in her eyes.

Saerya's head shot up at the sound of her sister's voice. Her face looked hollow and sickly, and was still smeared with dried tears, dust and blood. Devastation filled her eyes where a spark had once been. "Dany." She managed, her voice ragged and tearful.

"Saerya." Daenerys moved to her sister's side, wrapping her tightly in a hug. "Oh, I'm so sorry." She cried. "I'm sorry."

Fresh tears springing into her eyes, Saerya clung to Daenerys as she cried again. "They were assassins." She managed. "They were after me and she... she tried to stop them..." she could remember so clearly the moment Saelyra sprung forward, sacrificing it all for her twin. She remembered the blade coated in Saelyra's blood hovering over her, dripping blood on her, about to take her life too when Ser Jorah finally made it to her and killed the wretched men. "It's my fault."

"Shhh," Dany told her softly, unable to stand the girl blaming herself. She gently stroked her fingers through the knots in Saerya's hair like when they would sit in the bath together at Illyrio's Palace. Her eyes locked on the two dragonscale chests by one end of the tent. She tucked her head down to whisper gently in her sister's ear. "Shh, darling. It'll be alright." she cupped Saerya's face gently in her hands to look her in the eye. "Listen to me carefully."

°

What little remained of the Khalasar stood behind the Targaryens as they looked out over the pyre before them where Drogo and Saelyra lay. At Daenerys' side Rakkharo was collecting the dragon's eggs from their chests. He glanced over at her in uncertainty. "Is this your command, Khaleesi?" Daenerys looked over at Saerya, who stared with hollow eyes at her sister's corpse, then nodded slightly. He took them to be placed on the pyre.

"Drogo will have no use for dragon eggs in the night lands, nor Saelyra wherever she may be going." Jorah said. "Sell them. You can return to the Free Cities and live as a wealthy woman for all your days."

"They were not given to us to sell." Saerya whispered softly.

"Khaleesi... princess..." he addressed the sisters in a tone far graver now. "I vow to serve you, obey you, to die for you if need be. But let them go. I know what you intend. Do not."

"I must." Daenerys spoke."You don't understand-"

He turned pleading eyes on Saerya now. "Don't ask me to stand aside as you climb on that pyre. I won't watch you burn."

He felt her hands take his suddenly. Very gently, her touch like feathers. "Have faith in us." she told him quietly. "And do not fear." his head lowered and he stepped back. The Khaleesi and Khalakka turned back to those waiting behind them.

"You will be my Khalasar." Daenerys told them, her voice surprisingly strong. "I see the faces of slaves. I free you. Take off your collars, go if you wish, no one will stop you. But if you stay, it will be as brothers and sisters, as husbands and wives." Several people turned, heading off into the night, never to be seen again. The witch smirked slightly, on her knees, hands bound behind her back. "Ser Jorah, bind this woman to the pyre." He hesitated, and she reminded him quickly, "You swore to obey me." Jorah and another of Daenerys' more loyal riders grab her, hauling her back into the firewood. "I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen! Of the Blood of Old Valyria, I am the Dragon's Daughter! And I swear to you that those who would harm you will die screaming."

"You will not hear me scream!" the witch snapped.

"I will. But it is not your screams I want. Only your life." She reached out to squeeze Saerya's hand assuringly before each girl took a torch in hand, laying them at their feet to ignite the pyre. The flames spread quickly, following the weaving trails of firewood into the centre. The witch sang as the flames reached her, but as they began to consume her fully, song turned to screams. And then, hand-in-hand, the Targaryen sisters stepped into the flames with their loved ones lost and futures unborn.

The flames were bright and the smoke seemed to creep in around the starlight. Until the sun rose and the pyre had burnt down to charred husks... and two silver haired girls, unharmed. Creeping over Daenerys' back and shoulders were three tiny miracles. Myths come to life, red yellow and green... and sat upon Saerya's shoulders were two beautiful little legends, one silver, one gold. It would seem that dragons had returned to this world to rule it once more.