From White Harbour to Winterfell and Beyond. GoT Season 8 retold

Fire and Blood

Dany POV

"Furthermore," said Jon. "If we work together- we can defeat this evil here. We can prevent the darkness from moving on to the rest of Westeros, and the Long Winter to never end."

"Sod the rest of Westeros!" someone cried from somewhere in the hall.

"Yeah!" echoed another.

A white-bearded lord nearby said, "If we send our women and babies down South, the fucking Lannisters armies will eat them!"

Dany looked up from the oak table to find the men of the North stirred up and her own advisors looking furious. To the left of the hall, Jorah and Greyworm exchanged dark looks. The arguing was growing. It was disastrous. Almost like the first time she'd heard about the dead army, direct from the lips of Jon Snow. She'd been certain he was tricking her back then, a lord of Westeros trying to get close enough to kill her, so he could be hailed a hero in the North. But then, slowly, she'd begun to believe him, and believe in him. He was alone then, trying to convince her to help him, but he wasn't alone anymore.

"Men of the North," she said, and when no one quieted, she stood up and shouted, "Enough!" Her voice echoed through the room and mercifully caused attention enough to settle the crowd somewhat. When it was as quiet as it was going to be, Dany went on. "I didn't believe in the enemy myself once, but I've seen them. They move with no feeling, no pain, no fatigue and their commander comes to bring death to all of us. They will not be reasoned with, and they will not leave the innocent."

"And where do they go?" Sansa said, then glanced up at Dany, "our innocent?"

Dany felt a strange flutter in her stomach, and she frowned for a moment, fighting nausea. "Send them south and then west across to the Iron islands. The dead cannot swim and I swear to you the Greyjoy Queen will take them in."

"Queen?" Sansa asked, and then she glanced at Jon.

His eyes were on Dany, softly, "It's true- they can't swim."

This sent a ripple through the room. She exchanged a smile with him but when he turned away, Dany eased back to her chair. Why did the room have to run so hot? And why were the seats in Winterfell so large! And why did she feel so tired?

"Look, if we survive the battle that is coming... our world will look nothing like it does now."

"Excuse me," Tyrion spoke up then, "but the Queen is unwell."

There was a shifting of feet and sudden movement of everyone, but the overall queasiness was amplified by shame. Dany was swept out of the hall by Jon, so quickly she hardly saw any of the faces she passed. Have I not eaten the heart of a horse? She thought. Why am I so weak?

"I'm perfectly fine!" she said when they reached the antechamber. "Just want to sit for a moment."

"It's no wonder the Queen is tired," Varys moved into place, "the air here is thick with spite."

"She's already given the Iron Islands away, why not just release the North also."

"Sansa!" Jon snapped. "You're not making any of this easier."

"Well, why don't I go to storehouses and bring out some more ale!" Sansa replied sarcastically, and she stalked away, closely followed by Lady Brienne.

"Your Grace, let me have them prepare you a mulled wine," Missandei suggested.

"I've never seen you ill before," Jorah told her, with concern.

"I'm tired is all. Really.

"Well, I'm tired too," Tyrion said, and he drummed his fingers on the back of a chair as he passed, "and I must be honest. If Lannister troupes haven't come by now, it's likely they never will."
"With the forces streaming in from the south we may not need them," Varys said.