Daenerys Targaryen

Peaceful.

That was how Daenerys would describe her current surroundings. Tranquil and peaceful, birds chirping, blue skies that were an oddity considering the grey clouds that had seemed to hang over Westeros for many months now. It was dry, sun shining, a contrast to the usual rainy and dreary days.

But she knew that this would not last forever. Soon a meeting would be held that would determine the war to come. This meeting would determine the future of Westeros and its people, whether they would live to see peace or be caught in the crossfires of war once more.

This fact weighed heavily upon her, the burden she felt at the decision she must make. Yet, it was not a decision she would have to make alone. There were others who would be bearing the same weight as she had. They were her rivals for the throne, boys that were not much older than she was. Both forced to consider the lives of their people and how the war would affect them. After all, a Kingdom could not exist without people to inhabit it.

Daenerys did not come here to bring fire and blood. No, she came here to liberate Westeros from the Usurpers bloodline. Daenerys came to reestablish Targaryen rule and lead the people of Westeros to a new Golden Age. One of peace and prosperity.

Destroying Westeros was the opposite of what she desired. However, Daenerys knew that in the future, she might have to tear down her enemies.

Frowning, Daenerys fidgeted upon her chair, trying to find a comfortable position. The area they were in was a large open expanse, ensuring that there was no possibility of hidden soldiers. It was a security measure taken, that while leaving her completely exposed, meant the same for her enemies. It also ensured that she could see her enemies coming for miles, even if they attempted to launch an ambush, she would be more than able to escape in plenty of time.

'Though it's not like I'm completely exposed.' She thought, looking towards the largest of her Dragons, Drogon. He was laid slumbering upon the ground, well-fed and sated. There would be little chance of her rivals doing anything untoward against her with Drogon around. She hoped that it would also provide her leverage to use against them, though if what she had heard about Robb Stark was to be true, she doubted that would be possible.

Begrudgingly, she had listened to Ser Bronn's words and had released Tyrion from his cells. He was still a prisoner, but he had been provided better living quarters and better food so long as he provided her aid. Eventually, if he proved himself valuable enough, she might even offer him a position upon her council, but still remained to be seen.

However, she had listened to Bronn's words and in turn, she listened to Tyrion's. Before his arrival, they had already set the meeting south of Rook's Rest and north of Duskendale. Close enough to the coast that they could retreat towards their boats, but far enough away to put the other two rulers at ease.

But it was Tyrion that had pointed out that bringing all three Dragons with her to the meeting would be in poor taste and appear more threatening. He had explained that it would only cause more problems in the negotiations than help them, Daenerys had of course refused to go without her Dragons but due to Ser Barristan concurring with Tyrion, she had eventually acquiesced to their demands. Though only when they had agreed to let her bring one Dragon with her.

Instead, she was now accompanied by an elite unit of Unsullied, personally handpicked by their leading commander, Grey Worm. Each stood firmly to attention, appearing as unmoving statues, but hiding the careful and scrutinising gazes that watched the horizons carefully. The Unsullied made up the bulk of the accompanying soldiers that she had brought. But they were not the entirety of it. There was also a large group of cavalrymen taken from the Second Sons making it a total of over fifty men, the limit she had explained within the letter.

Refusal to follow such a demand would be seen as an act of war and the immediate breaking of the temporary truce. She had even, under the guidance of Ben Plumm, put in the warning that whichever side broke this truce would be faced by the other two sides working together. Whether such a thing would truly go ahead was unknown, but it was a crafty little trick that the commander of the Second Sons had suggested as a little show of force.

Most of her guard was a little further away, only around a dozen of Unsullied a little closer, surrounding her in an arch as she sat waiting under a little hastily made canopy. Nothing more than a few wooden poles dug into the ground, with a cloth over the top.

However, seated beside her was Tyrion Lannister on her left and Ser Barristan Selmy on her right. Behind them stood Greyworm, Strong Belwas, Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, Goghor the Giant, Belaquo Bonebreaker, Camarron of the Count and the Spotted Cat. Many of her guards besides Greyworm and Ser Bronn had been former Pit Fighters. All except Strong Belwas had been brought before her by a particularly annoying thorn and her second husband, Hizdhar zo Loraq.

Her marriage to him had been a farce, lasting no more than a day before she had him killed. Originally she married him purely to gain ninety days of peace from the Sons of the Harpy. He had, quite quickly which had been odd but she had been willing to overlook it. That was until Skahaz mo Kandaq in his preparations for departing to Westeros had come across Hizdhar meeting with the Sons of the Harpy.

Daenerys had killed him soon after, her marriage not even lasting a day. She had then once again shut down the Fighting Pits and had taken a few of Hizdhar's former bodyguards for herself. They were an odd bunch, but fearsome and skilled fighters all the same.

"The Starks have arrived." Tyrion mused, more to himself if the quietness of his tone was anything to go by. All had seen the flags arriving upon the horizon, dozens upon dozens of them. She recognised a few of them, House Tully, House Arryn, House Tyrell to name a few. But at the very lead, was the flag of House Stark, one bearing that of a crowned Direwolf.

'Much like how I brought Drogon, the Young Wolf seems to have come bearing the full might of his Kingdom to his meeting. A showcase of how influential and powerful he has become.' Daenerys had expected this much, Tyrion had been correct in assuming that the Young Wolf would do this, explaining it as the simplest move he could make. Though she could at least acknowledge all that he accomplished during this war, they were both quite similar in that fashion.

He had been a young boy when the war began, inexperienced and underestimated at every turn. Yet he had used that to his advantage and scored victory after victory. The momentum he gained, in the beginning, carrying him on throughout the war and stunning all of Westeros with his achievements and military genius.

She had in a way, endured similar trials and tribulations. Always looked upon as weak and stupid due to her age and sex. Men wanted to fuck her, women wanted to be her, yet they expected nothing from her. And look at what she had done, abolished slavery within Meereen, gathering allies in the most unlikely of places and hatching Dragons.

They were similar, the pair of them.

'I suppose the rumours of him been handsome are not false either.' He wasn't elegantly beautiful, nor was he rough and wild-like. Robb was just pleasantly handsome, though she supposed that did have its own appeal. 'But they are truly beautiful.' She thought, looking upon the large wolves, Direwolves if she was not mistaken, pulling slightly ahead of the Stark contingent. Behind them, the vast majority of Robb Stark's entourage coming to a halt.

While she paid little attention to it, focused more upon the magnificent beasts striding across the open fields, her aids watched the discipline with which the Stark force moved. They had arrived in formation, not quite as fluid or as disciplined as the Unsullied, but nonetheless skilled. Each quickly fanning out into a strong defensive position while the Wolf King continued towards them, dismounting from his steed.

His entourage consisted of quite a young bunch of figures.

A large, hulking beast of a man that was Smalljon Umber, the one many were beginning to call the Mad Giant. In many ways, he reminded them of Strong Belwas, the man, in particular, looking upon him with interest. Even Goghor the Giant, the tallest of their group seemed small in comparison to the figure that was the new Lord Umber.

Beside him was a smaller woman, but still tall and athletic, yet possessing a certain beauty to her. That was Dacey Mormont, the eldest daughter of Magee Mormont.

There was also Robar Royce, Patrek Mallister, Edward Karstark, Daryn Hornwood Perwyn Frey. Each of them shared nervous and wary glances as they looked upon Drogon that slumbered peacefully beside the queen. Even asleep, the beast captured the mind and imagination of all those who looked upon it.

As Robb approached the pre-prepared chairs for them, he bowed to them in greeting, never once sparing the slumbering Dragon even a glance. "Queen Daenerys, I thank you for arranging this meeting." He said, many surprised and some slightly hopeful at the respectful way in which she spoke. Those few wondering and hoping that he might just surrender to them, accepting Daenerys as the new Queen without a fight. "My people have suffered enough in this war and I am pleased to see that you have not been afflicted by the madness that has often run through your family."

The hope that had slowly been building dipped at those final words. True though they may be, it told them all they needed to hear, Robb was not going to surrender to the Targaryens. The madness that had gripped their family for generations was the reason behind that, understandable, yet it also left them worrying for the future.