Hers Is The Fury

Retreat To The Capital

[King's Landing]

The salt-strewn air whipped through Morgana Baratheon's dark curls as she stood at the prow of the ship, her eyes fixed on the distant horizon. Behind her, the vast fleet carrying the survivors of the Battle of Winterfell sailed towards King's Landing, their sails billowing like clouds of smoke against the vibrant canvas of the sky. The Northern soldiers, wildlings, Dornish soldiers, Velaryon soldiers, Baratheon loyalists, Daenerys and her advisors, the Unsullied, and Dothraki were aboard, all united in their determination to face whatever lay ahead. Drogon and Rhaegal flew overhead. As the wind rustled through her cloak, Morgana could feel the weight of the world upon her shoulders, the burden of leadership and destiny bearing down upon her with each passing wave.

Her gaze shifted to the figure standing beside her, her husband, Robb Stark. He was a strong and capable leader, but even he could not deny the grim reality of their situation. The Night King and his army of the dead were drawing ever closer, their relentless march toward the living realm an unstoppable tide. Morgana knew that they would have to make a stand soon, and they would have to do it with whatever forces they could muster.

Her thoughts drifted to her mother, Cersei Lannister. Morgana had tried to convince her to send more troops to aid them, but Cersei had refused. Instead, she had resorted to the usual manipulations, trying to guilt Morgana into returning to King's Landing with her children Cersei's grandchildren. Morgana had refused, knowing that her place was at Robb's side, protecting their people. She couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness and anger at the same time. Her mother was her mother, after all.

The thought of her mother brought with it a sense of determination. Morgana had learned long ago that Cersei was not one to be underestimated. She would need to approach her carefully, subtly. And so, as the ship sailed closer to King's Landing, Morgana began to formulate a plan. She would need to convince her mother that the survival of their family, of the realm, depended on their working together. She would need to make Cersei see that the Night King was the greatest threat they had ever faced, and that only by uniting their forces could they hope to stand against him.

As they drew nearer, Morgana steeled herself for the confrontation ahead. She knew that her mother would not easily relent, but she also knew that she had to try. For the sake of her children, for the sake of the living, she had to try.

The fleet docked at the Golden Gate, and Morgana, Robb, and their small escort made their way through the bustling city to the Red Keep. The streets were crowded with people, a sea of humanity that seemed to buzz with life despite the ever-present tension. Morgana could feel eyes upon her as they passed, whispers trailing in their wake. She knew that many had heard of her mother's refusal to aid them, and many more had heard of her defiance. It was a dangerous game she was playing, but she refused to back down.

As they approached the gates of the Red Keep, Morgana took a deep breath, steadying her nerves. She had rehearsed her speech a dozen times over in her mind, honing it until it was as sharp and precise as a sword's edge. She would need to be at her best if she hoped to sway her mother's opinion.

Cersei Lannister, the incumbent queen of the Seven Kingdoms, stood on the battlements. She was flanked by her loyal guards, the Queensguard. They hoped to gain her support in their fight against the Night King, but they were met with skepticism and hostility.

"You've brought this threat to our doorstep," Cersei spat at Jon and Daenerys. "You've intentionally brought the Night King here to claim the Iron Throne for yourselves."

"We didn't choose to bring the Night King here," Jon replied, his voice firm but measured. "He's been threatening the entire realm for years. We're here to stop him, not to claim the throne."