The Lost Dragon Returns

Landing 

Daeron rose from the Iron Throne, ending today's session and hearing the rumbling in his stomach.

Apparently, fasting for a couple of days gives you good fortunes, he had scoffed at what Daario said but then the bastard made it a competition and poked his prideful side.

Now it's been three days, he's giving up and finding the juiciest piece of pork he can find.

Hearing giggles, he turned and looked below a balcony to see Sansa in the gardens with Lady Margaery Tyrell. One night at Highgarden, Sansa once told him that her time at the Capital had been brightened when Margaery was accompanying her.

So, he insisted on House Tyrell coming to court when the city was seized.

"You want to ride them?" An embarrassed blush overcame his calm face when Rakharo said this in a thick common accent, learned by himself and Jorah.

"W- What, no, well one of them but that's none of your business." He tried to be strong but only made the two Dothraki Kingsguard laugh.

Viserys would laugh at him, too. His brother once said their father had thirty noble and common women keep his company before they were born, a King shouldn't be confined to one mere maid when he controls the Realm is what he said.

Margaery is very beautiful, he especially likes the short hair as it reminds him of some of his past lovers. But like Arianne, she is shrewd, and ambitious where Sansa means well... Most of the time. The young King thought before going on his way, no longer able to see the two women.

Sansa can be quite stubborn, they only argued twice and each time he gave up just to have a nice day.

It reminded him again how Dany was after the first month of her marriage to Drogo, she's clearly becoming a stronger person than what Tyrion described of her before they officially met.

Suffice to say, marriage with Sansa is going to be quite the journey.

A pair of soldiers found him as he was nearing the kitchens, kneeling first but rising quickly to speak. "My King, scouts have reported no movement of the Northern forces." He waved off the report, passing the men but stopping to give a command.

"Unless Jon Snow and his forces have left Harrenhal, I don't want to hear about reports from the front." He huffed and continued on his way toward the kitchens and later had two delicious fish cooked and brought to his chambers.

He also is awaiting on reports from the Westerlands, most of the former Lannister followers have knelt and sworn allegiance to him but there are some who are still fiercely loyal to the pretender regime that ignited a revolt when Cersei and Tommen were slain.

House Crakehall, Lorch, Payne, and Swyft currently gathered three-thousand men at the Golden Tooth. House Lefford's heir, Alysane was here at the capital when her father, Leo was overwhelmed and murdered for feasting to his health.

In fact, he had charged Tyrion and Grey Worm to lead half of the Golden Company and Unsullied to put it down. His impish friend even agreed to marry Lady Lefford on the promise to end the traitorous Houses.

Some suggested he fly with his remaining dragons to make a third field of fire to the rebels, he denied the proposal while chastising the advisors that if he uses his dragons for every battle, the time will come when House Targaryen loses this great weapon and has no fear of an army marching on him.

Daario walked into his chambers as he finished, "I guess I win the bet? So what do I get, your grace?" He pondered and smiled sheepishly.

"A castle." Daario frowned and approached to find a chai, "What, I did promise you a castle, and I didn't forget." He had forgotten but managed to say it in a confident tone.

Sadly, Daario still wasn't deterred from the sour expression on his face.

"And yet it's been a few weeks since our victory, and all I've gotten was a seat at the table." The habits of a mercenary, he sighed and walked towards his shelf and unfolded a map of Westeros.

Spotting an area on the map, he jabbed his kitchen knife on the castle of Darry. "House Darry died off recently, left without a master, and has sufficient territory, being the crossroads between the Kingsroad and the River Road... From what I hear, it even comes with a bride." He said and Daario pondered on the location before smiling and kneeling to him.

"Your, grace, as a monument to this great gift, House Naharis will forever be loyal to the Dragon King and all his heirs." He never imagined the sellsword could come up with such a vow, he helped the man rise and nodded.

It wasn't completely a great offer, he doesn't fully trust Daario to be loyal down the line if another revolt threatens his reign. He placed Daario at Darry Castle in case of the event he does betray him that he'd be surrounded by loyalists and swiftly destroyed rather than putting him close and giving him the advantage to aid any future traitors.

"Good, I will count on it." He and the man shook hands, keeping one another company for the next half-hour before the door opened and one of the new Lord of Darry said something about a missing horse when made the former sellsword leave Daeron in his chambers.

Godswood 

Sansa smiled, enjoying the lemon cakes that she had made for her visit with Margaery.

She felt very empowered with being the Lady of the castle, servants, and actually holding some authority around the Red Keep. It must have been what Cersei felt, being married to King Robert for the past twenty years.

A tiny part of her enjoyed the looks that some of the people gave her, no longer the expressions of pity she received when she was imprisoned.

Margaery also complimented on her disposition, saying that she's looked stronger in the last several months since Joffrey's murder.

And the still growing thought that she and Daeron will be married in the future, as soon as her half-brother comes and meets the King. She had prayed to the Old and New Gods here for the first real-time since before her father's arrest that peace can be achieved, that the Realm can go back to what it was before the War of the Five Kings.

"You and his Grace are getting on well, I could see it in your eyes." She heard her best friend say, she smiled and nodded to her words.

"He treats me well, more than anyone has since my father... " Joffrey, Littlefinger, Cersei, they all broke her in many different ways and she still came back from it.

Daeron helped her, too. He helped me get justice. She thought, then she helped him when he had to kill one of his dragons- His son.

"That is good, I am very happy for you... I sometimes twist and turn in my bed, missing the attentiveness that Tommen gave me." She grasped Margaery's hand, squeezing it ever so slightly as to convey her feelings physically.

"He was a gentle King, too undeserving of what happened to him." Margaery's face softened a little, a spare tear falling from his left cheek and on the blue and green dress, she was wearing.

They both suffered at the hands of House Lannister, but, they survived and will keep walking to their future where those like Tywin, Joffrey, Cersei, and all the other tyrants got what was coming to them.

Yet... Tommen wasn't like them, he was much like her and too soft for the world he was living in.

"He was your husband, Margaery, we will arrange a service for him when all this is done- No, we'll do it sooner than that." She promised her friend and the two embraced, she allowed the former Queen of Westeros to cry openly into her shoulder.

Margaery sniffed and closed her eyes, "Thank you, Sansa, thank you... " The Tyrell Rose whispered and Sansa responded by rubbing her back soothingly.

She remained strong for so long, hiding all of this emotion is something she is very accustomed to.

Harrenhal 

Jon sat in the lonely main hall of the ruined castle, the raven scroll laid on the table, sitting with him was Davos, and Arya and Tormund.

His little sister narrowed her eyes at the scroll and turned to face him, her face expressing rage and concern. "It has to be a lie, there is no way that she would be fine and actually marrying a Targaryen." He wished he couldn't believe it either, but she wrote this and Arya confirmed it when he brought her to see it.

"Either way, if what I've heard is of any truth then this dragon boy is going to be trouble," Tormund said and plopped down next to Davos.

The former Hand of the King for Stannis sighed, shrugging his shoulders before speaking. "Unlike the rest of you, I lived in King's Landing when Aerys reigned as King. I remember watching public burnings, guards breaking down doors of officials and smallfolk for petty acts that he condemned as treasonous." Horror stories he once heard from Nan, usually because Bran asked for it.

"So what do you think about all of this, do you trust her letter?" He asked, trying to hide his doubts on whether this is a warning to be cautious or actual sincerity.

Another part of him wants to ignore either, they came South not just for Sansa or to get revenge, it was for what's coming to kill them all and shroud Westeros in darkness.

He believes he said it best at Hardhome, the Night King is real, his army of corpses is real and the White Walkers will destroy everything if they do not stop them.

Now, Daeron Targaryen has three dragons and has the Reach, Dornish, Stormlands, Valemen, and thousands of mercenaries behind him.

With that sort of strength allying with his own to fight the coming threat, they do have a chance of beating back the Long Night before it even begins.

"We'll leave in three days, give our men and horses a little more time to rest." He said and eyed the hearth, burning with heat while everyone else left.

All except for Arya, she didn't look very happy with him.

"We've rested for nearly two weeks, brother, either we march on the capital or I go and save Sansa myself." The reference to Arya's ability is almost as scary as him actually going through death and resurrection.

"I'm considering on a direction that will most likely turn our people against us, against me," He didn't need to say it to her, their close bond gave Arya all the signs as to what he meant. "We need Daeron on our side, it's why I sent men to Dragonstone and it's why I haven't marched on King's Landing."

Their father knew when to make the hard decisions, even when it caused your closest allies to turn from you.

Arya sighed and turned back then left the hall, and not even the ghosts of Harrenhal could drive away how alone and sad he felt.

King's Landing 

Daeron woke up at the late hours as dawn began to surface, Jorah said that a group has come from Oldtown.

He knew what it was, his new Grand Maester has finally arrived to fill his seat on the Small Council. He had quickly thrown on a robe and followed Jorah, Barristan, and Kovarro to the throne room where Obara and Rhakaro stood with a group of Hightower guards and three Maesters plus another.

It was someone obviously too young to be a Maester of the Citadel, the man was his age or older, and was heavy set with a bag of what he assumed was scrolls and documents.

He approached the group and the four non-soldiers kneeled down, he waved his hands and gestured for all of them to rise.

"I want to thank the Citadel for its haste, I know the road must have been treacherous getting here." He said to the three and the older of them shook his head quickly.

"Pay no thought to our safety, your grace. The roads haven't been safer since before your arrival, I can only imagine a peaceful reign from what we've seen." He felt happy that they'd say such things, especially since he's left at least eight abandoned camps from here to Nightsong.

"Now, may I assume that the three of you came to jointly run the position of Grand Maester?" The men shook their heads to is dissatisfaction.

"We've been sent to take on the duties until the real replacement has been chosen. My name is Bartamus, this Faelice, and Grendon." He nodded to each man and then asked about the fourth.

"And your name is... " The fellow youth stepped forward.

"My name is Samwell Tarly, your Majesty. I'm the son of- " He stopped Samwell from the continuing and shook his hand.

"Randyll Tarly's eldest son? A member of the Night's Watch, from what Dickon has said." Bartamus mentioned that Samwell is still an apprentice in training, "Then why are you not at the Citadel?" He asked and Samwell stepped forward to pull out a jar of ash.

"I came here to bring someone very close to me back home to his House, his family that finally came home from exile." He didn't understand but the Tarly boy explained it to him, "Aemon Targaryen was Maester of Castle Black, he always held on to his loyalty but his last words were to bring his ashes back to his home." Daeron slowly took the jar from Samwell, feeling a sort of comfort knowing he still had family even after his House was defeated and exiled.

This acolyte traveled dangerous miles to bring his relative back to his home territory, and he couldn't do the same for his own sister.

"... Thank you, Samwell Tarly, this boon deserves a reward so ask anything of me and it will be yours." He said to the man, Samwell pondered for a long moment before pushing forth his request.

"I wish to be pardoned from the Night's Watch, your Grace." He nodded and bid him rise back to his feet. "I would still serve at the Citadel, for their is knowledge crucial to our survival." He gave a puzzled look, wondering why he thinks that.

"Please tell me."