Note: This is after A Dance with Dragons, like way after and in my own au. It loosely uses ASOIAF/GOT and completely uses my obsession with my crackship Stannerys. I also just disregard Aegon Targaryen's existence and Jon Snow as well. This is me disregarding reality, and living in my dreams. Also it might be confusing-I change POVs throughout.
Daenerys Targaryen, walked through the hollow and empty hall to the iron throne. She had expected more. As she walked, the dragons skulls from the Targaryen reign seemed to stare her down through their empty eye sockets. A dragon can be killed. She knew that quite well. Two of her dragons had been slayed on the way down from the North, only Drogon remained—as if her first husband had stood beside her. She smiled thinking of him. Moon of my life, you didn't even need to cross on wooden horses to be with me. You live within my dragons, like you live within me. Water did scare the Dothraki so much. She had seen Khal Drogo rip out a man's throat, but the Narrow Sea, he could not go near. It didn't matter now, of course. He had been dead long ago.
She made her way to the Iron Throne for the first time. Many found it intimidating—a throne made of swords, but Dany found it most uncomfortable. It was supposed to be a symbol of how hard it was to rule; apparently everyone was supposed to stab you in the back. Dany knew what it was to rule. She had failed in the Free Cities, but now she had saved the seven kingdoms of Westeros from White Walkers—a species of undead that could only be stopped by fire. She rode in Westeros with her three dragons, ready to set ablaze. She knew that she would be killed if she did not make connections. She had met Stannis Baratheon. At first, she looked at him with distaste. It was his brother Robert, who had stolen her rightful throne and murdered her entire family; he also put a price on her head and would have killed her without a second thought. He was in such a sorry state. Stannis was a man of average stature—he certainly wasn't intimidating. He had short dark hair that was starting to grow grey and eyes that looked hard but trusting at the same time. Although he had most of the North, he did not have enough manpower to defeat the Lannisters in battle. After his wife died, the legend is that he was afraid of losing another close to him than any woman. He couldn't suffer another defeat. Although he had no love for the Targaryens, he had met with Dany after the victory.
"Your brother killed my entire family, and you helped him win the throne. What makes you think I would forgive you?"
"I did my duty to my brother. You might see it as wrong, but it was expected of me."
"I respect duty, ser. Duty hasn't done anything for you in a while. You need me."
"I know, and you need me."
A silence filled the room.
"The throne is mine," he said, "I won't back down from that."
"Ser, you don't expect me to back down that easily. Do you? I will rule the seven kingdoms in my own way."
"I do not, Targaryens, stupid as they are, do have a certain temper and a ridiculous amount of pride."
"You give me your dragons. I give you the support of the North and all my people. We will walk into the Throne room together. One of us will take the Throne rightfully. I promise you that."
It was only after they had arrived and took King's Landing, killing all the Lannisters they could find that one close to Stannis tried to take the throne for him. Melisandre. She was a witch they all said. Some believed she had a spell on Stannis, but that wasn't true. She only stood so close to Stannis because she believed he was the king R'hllor had promised. Dany had been sleeping when Melisandre came in with a plan to kill her with dark magic. She faked sleep until the last moment and grabbed her by the wrists. "You do not dare to harm me," she said gritting her teeth.
"I do dare, you are nothing without your dragons." I have never been nothing. She repeated the phrase that she learned the meaning of when Drogo had killed her brother with a molten crown. They would not dare to take the crown from her, not like this.
"I am my dragons," she said quickly, and called the one that remained to her.
Before she was aware, a woman entered the room that she had seen in the background but never heard. She was one of Stannis' s captives no doubt. She was a larger woman, but not fat. She had a figure that was commanding, like a man. Her broad face was unflatteringly highlighted by thin, almost gray hair. She walked slowly over to Melisandre and stabbed her in the back. Blood seeped out of her slowly, "R'hllor," were the last words that she called. A smile held on her lips. She had finally met her maker, if she hadn't pleased him by making Stannis king.
Daenerys sat up in her bed from quiet shock. She breathed in excited gasps before she uttered any words.
"Don't bother, my lady," said the woman that had just saved her life.
"That was no small feat," she said, "who are you?"
"I'm Asha Greyjoy—of the Iron Islands. I'm a captive of Lord Stannis."
"Well thank you for saving my life. Do you know if she acted alone?"
The young girl chuckled, "Oh most likely. She has been following Stannis for nearly ten years now and it all has come to nothing. She believed he was the chosen one. That he was meant to rule the seven kingdoms—that he would defeat the white walkers. As you see, you did."
"I see. Please be the members of my Queensguard. It is the least I can do."
Asha scoffed loudly, "That's the problem with all of you, not raised on Pyke. I am a queen in my own right, why would I serve you?"
Daenerys, though she was near twenty, still thought very childlike, "Of course, I'm apologize. I didn't mean to insult your name."
Asha laughed uncontrollably. Daenerys glowed with embarrassment. "What? What's so funny?"
"It's just that I didn't believe that you didn't know anything about Westeros. My uncles fight for the throne that should be mine. Do you really think I would be here if I had a throne waiting for me? Do you know the motto of House Greyjoy?"
Dany shook her head. She barely remembered her own.
"We do not sow. I would be breaking the motto of my house."
"However I don't want to be a prisoner anymore of Lord Stannis. I don't want to go back to my husband, where I am used as a pawn. I will come to love you and will protect you. Give me freedom, and I am yours."
"I will talk to Lord Stannis tomorrow, you are free to serve me if you wish and you are free to leave when you want."
Asha smiled. If father could see her now, he would drown her in the salty seas that ran through her being. What had Euron or Victarion given her? Nothing. She would rather sow, fight, than lay for the rest of her life with her legs spread. Oh mother, you have not died in your vein, your daughter will come home and take the throne of the sea. It will just take some time.
Stannis stared at the Iron Throne. How long had he dreamed of taking his rightful throne and he still wanted it. Daenerys could forget it, but she could also kill him and all his people with a call to her dragons. Dracarys, she always said. She had saved him and all his people; he owed her something, it was his duty. He knew that. He stepped away from the throne slowly.
"Daenerys," he said as he heard the door make a sound.
"Ser," she said flatly.
"Shall we sit?"
"I don't think we can both fit on the Iron Throne."
Child, he thought. He sometimes forgot how young she was. "No, my lady. Shall we go to the gardens?"
Daenerys nodded her head and followed him. The gardens were beautiful. Inside Dany got the feeling that it was all about politcal back-stabbing, but here it felt free. The green was fresher than anything she had ever seen. Flowers grew freely, mostly pink. "I can not have a daughter," Dany said throwing a pink flower on the ground. Stannis was too hard to say anything to that.
"You have a daughter, ser?"
"My line will die with me."
A young girl hidden behind a group of bushes peeked out. "Is this your daughter?" Dany had heard from Asha that she had stone on one side of her face. She was a slight and a small girl, looking more like a peasant girl than a king's daughter. She had thin dark hair, but had a more pleasing countenance than her father.
"Shireen, where is Patchface?" He had caught sight of her.
"He...I just wanted to see the dragon queen. She is as beautiful as the stories say." Daenerys smiled. She was always pleased by children, perhaps because she knew she could never enjoy one as her own. "You must be Shireen, you are pretty as well." Shireen tried to hide her face, it was a nervous habit. Daenerys came close to her. Although she was a teenager, she still acted as a child. It was something that she had done before she had married. She had lived in exile for the first fourteen years of her life, alone with her brother Varys; he was a controlling personality, he ruled her completely with a rough hand. "Don't hide that from me," she said sweetly.
"Shireen, go on then." Stannis didn't have time for this. He wanted to sit on the Iron Throne now.
"She is a lovely girl," Dany said.
"As is your dragon."
"I want to rule. I always thought it was weird that there wasn't two. Being married to a king is no easy task. Why must she sit beside him on a plain chair?"
"Are you suggesting that we marry?"
"I am. I know the story of your first wife. You did not love her and you did not treat her kindly."
"It seems odd that you would agree to a union."
"I have wanted love and a home, forever."
"I can give you one, but not the other."
"I realize that but we both need each other. I can give you the Throne, but I will make another one."
"Done. Y'know your throne won't be respected?"
"Maybe not right away. Like me, they will see it as weak. But I've turned from a sheep to a dragon, and nobody dares call me weak now."
Stannis nodded. "Do what you will."
Shireen sat on her father's lap. "Daddy, isn't this uncomfortable?"
"Ruling isn't supposed to comfortable. You will learn that one day."
"Where has the dragon queen gone? She didn't leave did she?"
"No we are to be wed, my dear."
Shireen jumped on his lap. "You are?! My mother is going to be the dragon queen!"
"Yes, my love, but don't get your hopes up. She won't love you."
"She will, father. She may not love you, but she will love me. Everyone will.
Daenerys sat on the floor of the throne room. The throne was not hers; she didn't want it. It represented the usurper: though she could marry his brother, she could never forgive him. A small tapping of feet pulled Dany from her thoughts. "Shireen," Dany said softly as she hugged her from behind.
"Hello mother." Shireen smiled widely.
"Daddy says you are to make your own throne. I thought you wanted the other one."
"I thought I did, it represents everything that I hate. Everything I already know."
A pause followed before Dany spoke again. "Shireen, do you want to be queen after your father?"
"I don't know. I know that I will be and when I am, they will love me."
Dany smiled at her. She thought of how odd it was that this girl was more sure of what she wanted than she was. She had been queen, but did she want this? Was this her dream, or the dream of her family, the Targaryens? She always knew that she had to take the throne back, but was it for herself or because it was put onto her? She wasn't sure.
She stayed in her chambers. She had dismissed Asha for the night; she felt the safest she had ever been in her life. She pulled out her trunk from her belongings. She had not touched it for a long time. She was looking for the skin of her children, Rhaegel and Viserion. They had let her keep that much of her dragons at least. She pulled it out. Oh god, how it smelled. It was tough, almost rubbery but more coarse. She ran her fingers, feeling the scales. Although they were severely charcoaled, she could feel them. She missed them so much. She thought back to the night that they were executed. They had killed a few men with their fire, when they are panicked as there life source went out of them. Dany remembered the aching that went through her stomach, as if she felt it in her womb. She vomited for days after, a part of her had been killed. This will be my throne. The dragon heads that decorated the throne room would be carved out and cover in her dragons' skins. She did not need a throne of swords, she had already learned the lesson it was supposed to teach. She knew the Targaryens would die with her, but the throne would always remain beside the other. A dragon cannot be killed. The voices in her head fell silent, she felt the scales under her pale skin. I cannot be killed.