42 Chapter 41: The fall of King's Landing

Tyrion could see why Varys was right to caution him about underestimating Jon Snow. The bastard boy he had travelled with from Winterfell to the Wall was not the same person standing before him. Jon Snow was a boy adrift in the world unsure of his place which made the bastard of Winterfell somewhat gullible and easy to predict. He could read the boy like an open book with one look.

But, right now his mind was struggling to understand the mystery standing before him and the Queen's army.

"You must be joking of course." Jorah replied, to the ridiculous demand by the Queen's nephew to bend the knee.

"I'm afraid you are mistaken. I do not make jokes in a war. Bend the knee and swear your fealty to me or face the consequences." Daeron Targaryen demanded making Tyrion sigh.

"I'm afraid that's not possible, your grace. We have sworn ourselves to Queen Daenerys Targaryen and you my friend are woefully outnumbered on the ground." said Tyrion.

However, Tyrion noticed Daeron was the least bit bothered by that fact.

"Am I?" Daeron smirked.

Tyrion felt the touch of cold steel pressing against his neck making his eyes widen in alarm. He could hear more swords being drawn by the men surrounding him placing swords and spears against Varys and Jorah.

Tyrion slowly turned his head to look at the traitor. It was none other than Lord Renfred Rykker. All around him, the Crownland lords, knights and soldiers were turning against the outnumbered Unsullied. The only saving grace was they were not killing anyone. It was a miracle that a fight was not breaking out in the first place.

"I did not start playing this game to lose at the very end, Lord Tyrion. When I rode out from the Wall and wiped out the traitors in the North, I had a very specific goal. The Iron Throne is mine and I'll not allow another to stake claim over it." said Daeron.

Tyrion was in a state of shock. Varys had warned him Prince Daeron was cunning and ruthless. The names the Northerners were calling Daeron were also an indication of the danger posed by the Queen's nephew. Warg king, White wolf, Winter King and Lionsbane were the many epithets Daeron was known by in the Riverlands and the North.

'I should have given Varys' warnings more weight. Instead, I foolishly held on to the image of Jon Snow.' Tyrion thought, cursing himself for being shortsighted.

He took a good look at Daeron Targaryen. The secret son of Rhaegar Targaryen looked nothing like a normal Targaryen except for the lighter skin. Daeron was not overtly bulky but he wouldn't call the Targaryen prince lithe either. Dark hair sprouted from the prince's scalp which was cut short. The dark armour of the prince was painted with both Targaryen and Stark sigils. The red three-headed dragon and the white snarling wolf could be clearly seen on the prince's armour. A red cloak was neatly secured on the prince's shoulder.

However, the interesting detail was the Valyrian steel sword in the prince's hand. A closer look revealed the dragon-head pommel of the sword but he could not think of any Valyrian steel sword in the North except for Longclaw and Ice. Tyrion knew the ancestral blade of House Stark was taken by his father. The blade was reforged making two blades out of the greatsword. Exactly what happened to those two blades was not known to him.

'Maybe, Daeron recovered one of the swords from Jaime at Riverrun.' Tyrion thought.

His failure regarding Daeron aside, he was rather more miffed at the fact that he missed the traitors within their ranks. In this frontier, even Varys was fooled into believing the Crownland lords.

"Lord Rykker. When you told us about reaching out to Prince Daeron you omitted certain details, didn't you?" Tyrion asked, his mismatched eyes finding the Lord of Dun Fort who remained unapologetic.

"Lord Rykker is blameless in this matter Lord Tyrion. Desperate times call for desperate measures." Daeron interjected.

"This is dishonourable." Tyrion said heatedly, glaring at Daeron.

"No, not at all. You call it dishonourable while I call it statecraft. A good ruler must discern his allies from his enemies. Should the need arise, a good ruler must also play a game of subterfuge to protect his kingdom." said Daeron. "What I have done is exactly that. I have been planning to take the capital the moment the knights of the Vale bent the knee. The Gulltown fleet was at my beck and call once the Vale pledged their support. It was then Lord Rykker thought to reach out to me with an offer on behalf of the Iron Bank."

Tyrion blinked in surprise at that bit of detail. He turned to look at Varys and he could see the spymaster was similarly shocked by the revelation.

"I can see the realization setting in, Lord Tyrion. You should have truly sought out the Braavosi before you launched your invasion into Dragonstone. Taking the Red Priests of Volantis and positioning them at the head of your army was a very bad move. You spooked the Iron Bank which made them seek me out."

"You set us up to fail by sending that Red Priestess to Volantis." Tyrion accused.

"That's a vile accusation to make Lord Tyrion. I sent Melisandre to gather some of the best magically strong Red Priests and any Valyrian steel she could gather. I could have never known Daenerys would have allowed so many of the Red Priests and their disciples abroad her ships." said Daeron, shrugging his shoulders innocently.

"No. You hoped she might and you used the opportunity to your advantage seeking out the support of the Iron Bank." Tyrion muttered.

He could see it now. The elaborate plan, the moves Daeron made in the shadows while the rest of them were floundering under the sun.

"No." Daeron patiently disagreed. "The Iron Bank sought me out, Lord Tyrion. They were quite discontent with your sister who refused to pay back their loans. The consequences of that decision affected the Narrow Sea lords more than anyone else."

"King Robert was hostile to us during his reign. The Rebellion had sapped our strength and the little that was left eroded because of the wars and years of neglect heaped on the Crownlands by the crown. It forced many of us to seek help from an outside entity." Lord Renfred explained.

"The Iron Bank came to their rescue. Sadly, the war of the five kings made their situation worse. The Iron Bank called back all their outstanding loans from Westeros. The Narrow Sea lords were now in a tough spot." said Daeron.

"You paid their debts?" Tyrion asked incredulously.

"Yes, and I made arrangements to pay for a quarter of the debts the Iron Throne incurred."

Tyrion was stunned to learn that. Exactly how did Daeron come across enough gold to pay off the debts of several houses and have enough to pay off a quarter of the Iron Throne's debt? He could not make sense of how all of this happened right under their nose. Nor was he willing to trust everything that came out of Daeron's mouth.

"You must have been very generous with your fortune. Although, I am wondering how you came across such a fortune." Tyrion frowned at Daeron who merely smiled.

"Baelish." Varys muttered, making Tyrion look at the Spider in askance.

"It'd seem his grace has Baelish sing songs of his past deeds and found his stash of gold." Varys explained for his benefit.

"You are correct Lord Varys. Petyr Baelish has been my favoured guest for some time and he has been instrumental in this campaign." said Daeron, losing his carefree attitude as his eyes turned serious. "Now, ask your men to stand down and bend the knee. You have lost."

To Tyrion's relief, a familiar shadow fell on them. He has never been so relieved to see Drogon except at that moment. With a distinct thud that sent shockwaves through the ground and gales of wind that blew dust and sand everywhere, Drogon landed with the Queen closely followed by Viserion.

XXXXXXX

Daeron shielded his eyes from the dust being kicked up from the ground as Drogon and Viserion landed. Rhaegal moved to stand protectively over him as Drogon growled threateningly at him.

While the black dragon was quite intimidating his attention went to the silver-haired dragon rider sitting atop the dragon.

"What is the meaning of this?" Daenerys thundered, her eyes ablaze with fury.

For a moment, he was struck by her beauty as her cheeks became as red as a tomato. Her long silver mane bellowed out behind her in the wind despite braiding the majority of her silver locks.

Daeron lowered his sword as Daenerys began to climb down from her dragon.

"It'd seem you are outnumbered when it comes to dragons." Varys tittered in the background.

"Wrong again lord Varys." Daeron muttered, turning his sight on Viserion.

The cream-scaled dragon let out a low growl as his mind connected with Viserion. Rhaegal moved to the side as Viserion crawled forward and stood by his smaller brother's side looking challengingly at Drogon.

"What is the meaning of this? Release them, now!" Daenerys demanded.

Daeron stared at her for a moment wondering whether she was talking about her dragons or her advisors. He saw her purple eyes stray to her men keying him in. He thought it over in his head before nodding at Lord Rykker. The Lord of Duskandale sheathed his blade.

"Sheath your swords." Lord Renfred ordered.

The Crownland men sheathed their blades almost slowly looking suspiciously at the Unsullied contingent amongst them.

"Why have you disrupted the siege? I wanted nothing but peace between us. I extended every courtesy…"

"It's not you but your advisors." Daeron smoothly cut off Daenerys' tirade making her frown.

"What about my advisors?" she asked, her eyebrows scrunching up together.

"Ser Jorah Mormont committed the crime of selling his own people to slavers. He is not trusted in the North and he brought shame to his house forever maligning the good name of House Mormont. Lord Varys here stood by and watched as two Hands and a King were murdered. His silent involvement makes him untrustworthy. And finally, we have Lord Tyrion Lannister, a kinslayer whose family sits in the Red Keep. Forgive me for not trusting your advisors and therefore your judgment in dealing with House Lannister and House Tyrell."

"But…"

Once again Daeron didn't allow Daenerys to talk.

"The people of the North and the Riverlands do not trust you to render judgment on those who waged war upon them. They have charged me to deliver justice on their behalf and that's what I intend to do. Therefore, I cannot allow you to take this city."

For a time, neither of them spoke but eyed each other without budging an inch.

Daenerys made the first move by moving closer to Daeron. Bothe Rhaegal and Viserion looked at her but they moved aside so she could step closer to her nephew.

"Your grace…" Tyrion tried to protest but Daenerys looked sharply at him forcing the Lannister to fall silent.

"We are the last Targaryens. I do not want any conflict between us. We'll talk dragon to dragon without anyone else in between after we take the city, together." Daenerys offered, extending her arm towards her nephew.

Daeron was pleasantly surprised by the offer. It was everything he wanted and more. Therefore, he saw no reason to deny the offer. He sheathed Dark Sister and took the offered hand.

"I can abide by that offer. Tell me, do you prefer to greet the city atop a dragon or a horse?" he asked.

The way Daenerys' purple eyes fell on Drogon was enough of an answer.

XXXXXX

Davos was not keen on sailing into Blackwater Bay again after everything that happened. But, orders were orders and he didn't have the choice to ignore them. After all, he was dependent on the goodwill of King Daeron. With Stannis' death, there was nothing much left for him except for his family back in Dragonstone. And even that was quite debatable. It has been many years since he had heard anything from his wife and his remaining three sons.

After Stannis rode off to his death, he should have left for his home at Dragonstone. He should have gone there and stayed home with his wife and sons but he was weighed down by his failure. Not the failure associated with Stannis but rather the failure associated with his four dead sons. Whenever he thought of home his thoughts inevitably strayed to the four sons he lost at Blackwater Bay to the Lannisters.

"Dale, Allard, Mathos and Maric." he whispered as he watched the rowboats sail to the shores carrying the men of the Vale and the North.

There would be no songs written in honour of his sons or the men reaching the shores of King's Landing. No one would remember them or their deeds. There would be no one to remember why they died. It was sort of a depressing reality that Davos was forced to endure. The truth that his sons died for nothing stung his heart so deeply. Most disheartening of all was the fact that he was powerless to do anything about it. Stannis would be remembered even for his defeats but his sons…

"You look troubled Ser Davos."

Davos came out of the stupor and looked at his companion of sorts, Ser Wylis Manderly. Ser Wylis was also a troubled soul he picked up at Gulltown by total accident. The Manderly heir was a prisoner in Harrenhal for a long time. It was a miracle that Jaime Lannister chose to release the portly knight from captivity. It was even more of a miracle to come into contact with Ser Wylis at the port of Gulltown where King Daeron had secretly gathered a fleet to strike out at King's Landing. All merchant ships passing through the Vale were being captured to keep the secrecy of their movements intact. They just happened to come across the Manderly knight while searching one of the merchant ships destined for White Harbor.

"This is where I lost four of my sons." Davos whispered, looking forlornly at the waves touching the hull of his ship.

"I understand." Ser Wylis said.

Davos believed the Manderly knight.

During their extended stay at Gulltown, he had come to understand Ser Wylis better. The son of Lord Wyman Manderly was a man like him, adrift in a stormy sea with no clear destination in sight. Perhaps, that's why Ser Wylis chose to accompany them instead of returning to White Harbor.

"Are you not joining Ser Hardyng's company?" Davos asked.

In the distance, he could see the Vale knights lead the charge as their rowboats touched the shores. The Northerners under the command of Ser Edwyn Manderly were not far behind.

"I've had a lifetime of war. Besides, Ser Hardyng intends to prove his worth on the battlefield. He needs the glory to solidify his position as the Lord of the Eyrie." said Ser Wylis.

"There won't be much glory to hog in King's Landing. The King has already seen to that." said Davos, nodding at the destroyed Mud Gate and the fleeing Lannister men. "Come with me to the city. We must be present at the Red Keep when King Daeron arrives."

Davos somehow managed to convince Ser Wylis to budge. By the time they reached the shores on a rowboat, the knights of the Vale and Manderly knights were steadily making progress toward the interior of the city. Their path toward the Red Keep was a long and bloody one. Despite the orders from the King to take the city without harming the smallfolk, some had chosen to deviate from those orders. The bloodied bodies of people in commoner garbs and the screams coming from nearby households were proof enough.

"Perhaps we could take care of those disobeying his grace's orders and harming his subjects along the way?" Davos suggested, having no doubt it could have been his family on the receiving end of these soldiers if he had been less fortunate.

"That seems like a noble endeavour." Ser Wylis agreed, unsheathing his sword before barking out orders to the Manderly guards accompanying them.

Together they retraced the path through which their army had cut through. Ser Wylis was more than capable of handling any of the men committing acts of crime on the populace of the city. Davos watched the Manderly knight stab a Northerner through his shoulder who was forcing himself on a woman. It was times like these he'd curse Stannis for taking the fingers of his left hand. It was a struggle to use a sword with just one hand considering he had no formal training.

"Keep your eyes out for anyone breaking the king's peace. His grace would want to know who…" Davos trailed off as three dragons soared above the streets of King's Landing with bells tolling signalling the surrender of the city.

"We've won!" a young Northerner declared giddily.

Davos was pained to see the little celebration put forth by the young Northerner. It reminded him of his children.

"We might have won but our work here is not done. Back to work lads. Span out and find any stragglers taking advantage of the smallfolk." Davos ordered, breaking up the small celebration the men were having.

XXXXXX

Ever since she first took flight atop Drogon from the fighting pits of Mereen, Daenerys loved to be in the sky. The wind rushing about around her while she held on to Drogon always put her at ease. When she was in the sky the troubles down below seemed so distant.

However, she had always felt lonely in the sky. She had Drogon with her but she was the last remaining Targaryen and that thought always pushed her into a pit of loneliness.

But not today. Today was different.

The air whistled as Rhaegal levelled with Drogon carrying her nephew, Daeron. Her nephew looked to be at ease on Rhaegal's back. That was good. She wanted her nephew to be more comfortable with the Targaryen side of the family which she knew to be a difficult task but she craved a family. Daeron's existence meant she was not alone in this world. To know that she was not alone in this world was a gift.

Daeron, she realized, was a gift from the gods.

Perhaps it was her dragon blood that was making her more agreeable with Daeron. She was not ignorant of her nephew's ambitions. Nor was she going to take the betrayal of the Crownland lords lightly. Her nephew had definitely laid a trap for her armies by sneaking his allies into her camp. Such an act warranted caution on her part in any future dealings with her nephew. However, she holds no desire for the Iron Throne. Even while ruling Mereen she only desired the throne for the sake of revenge against those who fought against her family. But, after seeing and learning everything there was to learn about what transpired during the Rebellion, the thirst for vengeance within her was not so strong as in the past.

She truly hated only four men. Tywin Lannister, Gregor Clegane, Amory Lorch and Robert Baratheon. Out of the four, she'd have forgiven Robert Baratheon enough to give him a quick death or the Wall despite killing Rhaegar but the man had turned her childhood into a living hell. Unfortunately, all of them were dead as far as she knew. Although, Lord Varys did report that Gregor Clegane might have survived the poisoned spear of Prince Oberyn. In which case, the false knight's life was forfeit and she'd rain dragonfire on the monster who killed her goodsister and her brother's second child.

She was suddenly brought out of her thoughts as she saw Rhaegal suddenly veer off from their agreed-upon flight plan. They had agreed to fly close to the Lannister soldiers spread out on the streets of the city and scare them into submission. Yet, Daeron was breaking off from their plan far early. It was then she heard the bells.

The city was surrendering!

Daenerys quickly urged Drogon to follow Rhaegal. She realized Daeron was aiming for the Red Keep and she was rather excited at the prospect. Drogon was quick enough to catch up with Rhaegal with Viserion only a few paces behind them. Together they circled the Red Keep a few times scaring their enemies to death going by the terrified screams coming from the castle. Their dragons let out intimidating roars to announce their arrival rattling the stones of the castle.

They made a few passes around the castle until they found their armies converging outside the outer walls of the Red Keep. Daenerys looked at her nephew and signalled to land making Daeron nod in agreement.

Drogon was the first to land. The hind legs of Drogon crashed into the outer walls of the Red Keep. Most of the men charged with guarding the walls promptly ran away fearing for their lives. Some remained where they were too afraid to make a move. Meanwhile, her army as well as Daeron's rushed in through the open gates spilling into the castle.

"Disarm yourself and surrender if you wish to live. Or face fire and blood." Daenerys shouted from atop her dragon.

She didn't know how many could hear her as the soldiers marched through the gates, their boots thudding like drums of war. The few that heard her didn't try to test their bravery against her dragon. They promptly disarmed themselves and knelt where they stood with their heads bowed.

Viserion soared right above her head making Dany smile as her brother's namesake continued to stay in the sky. With a distinct thud, Rhaegal landed atop a tower on the castle wall. She frowned as she saw Daeron unsheath his blade for some reason. Rhaegal crawled over the tower and Daeron swung his blade cutting down the Baratheon banner from the tower.

Dany nodded at the act before turning her eyes to the Red Keep. She never imagined that she'd see the home of her ancestors like this. Here she was with her nephew, both atop their dragons looking into the Red Keep where their future will be written. The future of House Targaryen would once again unravel within the walls of the Red Keep. She prayed this time they were spared the tragedies as they could not afford any going forward.