The Queen of Flames (Sequel to 'The Demon of Winterfell') (On Hold)

Chapter Six: Mother of Dragons

The path to get to the castle was a long one, but Emmelyne didn't mind. Tyrion was keeping up conversation with Jon and Emmelyne. "And Sansa?" he asked. "I hear she's alive and well."

"She is," Emmelyne answered.

"Does she miss me terribly?"

Emmelyne only chuckled, though Jon's face went strangely slack. Tyrion looked at him, smiling. "A sham marriage," he eased. "And unconsummated."

"I didn't ask," Jon said.

"Well, it was. Wasn't. Anyway... she's much smarter than she lets on."

"She's starting to let on."

"Good. At some point, I want to hear how a Night's Watch recruit became King in the North."

"As long as you tell me how a Lannister became Hand to Daenerys Targaryen."

Tyrion chuckled at that. "A long and bloody tale," he said. "To be honest, I was drunk for most of it."

Jon didn't answer for a moment, and when he did, he changed the subject. "My bannermen think I'm a fool for coming here."

"Of course they do," Tyrion shrugged. "If I was your Hand, I would have advised against it. General rule of thumb- - Stark men don't fare well when they travel south."

"True... but I'm not a Stark."

Aegon Targaryen.

There was a sudden screeching from the sky. Emmelyne jumped, her breath hitching in her throat. Jon flew to the floor. Davos followed suit. Emmelyne froze. Missandei and Tyrion chuckled. A dragon, a literal dragon, flew over them. It was a giant beast, black with wide, red wings. It's scaled skin was stretched taught like the wings of a bat. "That's only one of them," Emmelyne whispered.

She looked at Missandei. "What's that ones name?"

"Drogon," Missandei replied, clearly amused by Emmelyne's wonder.

Tyrion stepped over to Jon, holding out a hand to help him to his feet. "I'd say you get used to them..." he said, helping Jon, "but you never really do."

While Jon, Davos, and Emmelyne still stared at Drogon, Missandei and Tyrion began to walk once more. Two more dragons joined him. One was a light, grass green. His scales were flecked with bronze, and his wings were a gorgeous yellow-orange. The other was a beautiful cream colored creature, speckled with gold. "What are their names?" Emmelyne asked Missandei.

"The green one is Rhaegal," Missandei said. "The white one Viserion. Those two are named for Daenerys's brothers."

Emmelyne was the first to snap out of her daze, Jon and Davos doing the same. "Come," Tyrion urged, "their mother waits for you."

And, so they continued walking, unaware of the red cloaked woman who watched them from the castle.

Daenerys, indeed, had been waiting for them. Davos, Jon, and Emmelyne stepped into the throne room. Emmelyne and Davos, who had been at Dragonstone before, were unimpressed by the room. But Jon looked around with wonder in his gray eyes. They stepped up to the driftwood throne. Sat on it, was a woman.

She was beautiful, and that was the first thing that Emmelyne noticed. Her long, white blonde hair was styled in braids. There was a faint smile on her pale, pink lips. Her blue eyes held interest as they fell upon the three Northerners. She was dressed in a long, black dress that looked as if it were made from Drogon's scales. The only true color she wore was a red sash around her waist. She wore the Targaryen colors with such pride. Such... power.

"You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, rightful Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains," Missandei recited.

Davos hesitated, waving his arm toward Jon. "This is Jon Snow," he said.

There was a very pregnant pause before Davos continued. "He's King in the North."

Emmelyne took Davos's arm, squeezing it lightly. "It's alright," she whispered to him.

"Thank you for traveling so far, my lord. I hope the seas weren't too rough," Daenerys said.

"The winds were kind, Your Kind," Jon replied.

Davos nodded respectfully at the claimant queen. "Apologies," he said, "I have a Flea Bottom accent, I know, but Jon Snow is King in the North, Your Grace. He's not a lord."

"Forgive me- -" Daenerys began.

Tyrion interjected. "Your Grace, this man is Ser Davos Seaworth."

Daenerys continued. "Forgive me, Ser Davos. I never did receive a formal education, but I could have sworn I read the last King in the North was Torrhen Stark, who bent the knee to my ancestor, Aegon Targaryen. In exchange for his life and the lives of the Northmen, Torrhen Stark swore fealty to House Targaryen in perpetuity. Or do I have my facts wrong?"

There was a hint of sarcasm in Daenerys's voice. She knew very well that we was correct.

"I wasn't there, Your Grace," Davos answered.

"No, of course not. But still, an oath is an oath. And perpetuity means- - what does perpetuity mean, Lord Tyrion?"

Emmelyne, however, was the one who answered. "Perpetuity means forever, Your Grace."

Tyrion sighed, looking at Emmelyne, then at Daenerys. "Your Grace, she is Lady Emmelyne Stark."

Daenerys nodded, her blue eyes meeting Emmelyne's gray ones. "The Demon of Winterfell," she said.

"It's Queen of Flames, now," Emmelyne replied stiffly.

The Mother of Dragons did not seem to enjoy that comment. "Nonetheless," she said. "It means forever. So I assume, my lord... you're here to bend the knee," she told Jon.

"I am not," Jon stated.