[Unknown Island]
Daenerys opened her eyes to find herself lying on a cold, hard ground. She sat up, rubbing her temples as she tried to remember how she got there. But everything after stabbing Jon Snow with Longclaw was a complete blur. She looked around, but all she saw was Drogon, sleeping beside her.
Panic set in as she realized that she had no idea where they were or how they had gotten there. She scrambled to her feet, looking around frantically for any clues. But there was nothing but endless snow and ice stretching out before her.
She shook her head, trying to clear it. Where was Tyrion? Jorah? The rest of their forces?
She struggled to remember what had happened before she blacked out. Had she been fighting the Night King? Had she won? The memories were hazy and fragmented, but one thing stood out clearly in her mind: the feel of Longclaw in her hand, plunging into Jon Snow's chest.
A wave of guilt washed over her as she remembered the look of shock and betrayal on Jon's face. He had been a good person, after all. A better person than she was, perhaps.
She had believed that he posed a threat to her rule, to her life, that he would take the Iron Throne from her. But now, as she thought about it, she realized that her paranoia had been baseless. If she had died, who would have stopped the Night King?
Drogon seemed to sense her distress, nudging her gently with his snout. Daenerys reached out to him, tears streaming down her face. "I'm so sorry, my child," she whispered. "I was so blinded by my own fear and anger."
In her quest to reclaim the Iron Throne, she had killed the one person who truly threatened her rule: her own nephew, Jon Snow. It had been a necessary evil, she told herself, for the greater good of the realm. But the weight of her actions hung heavy on her shoulders nonetheless.
But even as she spoke, she knew that apologies were too little, too late. The Dead Army still marched, the Night King still lived.
She couldn't help but feel a strange sense of kinship with the Night King. Both of them had once been driven by a desire to bring order and justice to the world, even if it meant making difficult choices and sacrifices.
But, while the Night King had chosen to do so through destruction and terror, Daenerys had believed that her dragons and her army could bring about change through liberation and hope. And yet, despite their differences in methods, they were both outsiders, exiled from the very places they had once called home.
She remembered the isolation she had felt when her brother Viserys had sold her to Khal Drogo, and how she had struggled to find her place in the Dothraki horde. Even once she had risen to power, she had still felt like an outsider, always looking in from the outside and never truly belonging.
And then there was the Night King, whose origins were shrouded in mystery and darkness. He too had once been human, but his transformation into the monstrous force he now was had left him alone and adrift, with no true home or purpose other than to destroy all that lived.
Despite their differences, Daenerys couldn't help but feel a sense of empathy for the Night King. She understood what it was like to be an outcast, to be shunned and feared by those you once considered your own people.
As she ventured deeper into the heart of the island, something strange began to happen. She started to see glimpses of a world beyond her own, a world where the living coexisted in a delicate balance. And in this world, she saw a vision of herself, ruling over all with wisdom and justice. It was a tempting prospect, one that filled her with both hope and fear.
For in this new world, she saw a future where she was not just a queen, but a goddess. A being of immense power and strength, feared and respected by all. But it came at a cost - she could no longer afford to indulge her own fears and insecurities. She would have to embrace the darkness within her, and become the very thing she despised most - the Mad Queen.
Daenerys felt a chill run down her spine as she realized the true extent of the danger facing them all.
She hesitated, torn between the desire for power and her own sense of morality. But as she looked around her, she saw the signs of decay and death everywhere. The trees were twisted and corrupted, their once-green leaves now withered and brown.
She needed to focus on the task at hand, not dwell on past mistakes. With newfound determination, she vowed to do whatever it took to defeat the forces of darkness and save Westeros.
She thought back to the events that had led her here. The betrayal of Jon Snow, the man she had tried to trust. The realization that he had been hiding the truth about his parentage, and that he had a stronger claim to the Iron Throne than she did. Her paranoia had consumed her, and she had made a terrible mistake. Despite her paranoia and ambition, Daenerys knew that she had done something terrible.
But now, as she looked out over the waves, she realized that she could still make things right. She could use her dragon to help defeat the Night King, the ancient evil that threatened to destroy all of Westeros. It would be a difficult journey, one fraught with danger and uncertainty. But she knew that she couldn't let her own personal fears and doubts hold her back.
She turned to Drogon, her great black dragon, and climbed onto his back. He nuzzled her gently, sensing her determination and readiness for battle. Together they had faced countless dangers and overcome unimaginable odds, but this would be their greatest challenge yet.
The Mother of Dragons was ready to embark on her most perilous journey yet - back to King's Landing, where the fate of Westeros hung in the balance. She knew that she had to risk being seen as the Mad Queen to turn the tide against the Night King and his army of the dead.
She felt the familiar rush of excitement as he lifted off into the air. They soared over the waves, the wind buffeting them from every side. Below, the sea foamed and churned, its depths hidden beneath a veil of mist.
With Drogon by her side, she set sail for King's Landing, determined to bring fire and blood to those who sought to destroy all that was good in the world.
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Hers Is The Fury
FanfictionPrincess Morgana Baratheon is the eldest daughter of King Robert Baratheon and Queen Cersei Lannister. She is a beautiful combination of her parents; tall, long black curly hair with streaks of silver, and emerald eyes.