Game of Thrones || The Sword of the Morning

A Brave New World

Daenerys asks in a worried voice, rushing to my side.

"That fucking traitor! He murdered Bran and Rickon! Burned them outside the gates of Winterfell! That little bastard fuck is going to die!"

I shout angrily, reaching the throne room where Tyrion is waiting for us.

"Your Grace, Evely-"

"Not now!"

An angry tear slips down my cheek and Daenerys grabs my arm, stopping me in my tracks as she yanks me around to face her. Her palms rest in my cheeks as a few more tears slip.

"Evelyn, take a deep breath and calm yourself."

I do as she says, closing my eyes while trying to regain control over myself.

"He... He killed the Stark boys. Bran and Rickon were like my little brothers..."

"I'm sorry, Evelyn... I truly am. Let's just see what they want, yeah?"

I nod reluctantly and she takes my hand, rubbing gentle circles in an attempt to comfort me which helps greatly. I smile at her.

"Thank you..."

"Come on."

She leads me to the throne, sitting down as I stand by her side, holding Dawn out in front of me as my eyes bore on the door.

"Send them in."

Two Unsullied open the large doors at the end of the throne room, allowing two figures to walk through. One of whom I don't recognize while the other I grew up alongside.

Theon Greyjoy.

His eyes meet mine for a second and he immediately looks away, rubbing his arm as he approaches behind of the woman beside him.

"You have the honor of addressing Queen Daenerys of the House Targaryen."

I say aloud, Theon and the woman, Yara, stop at the foot of the steps. They probably know of her long and lavish titles anyways.

Yara looks at me and then to Daenerys with slight hesitation.

"Your Grace... I am Yara of House Greyjoy, the daughter of Balon Greyjoy who was King of the Iron Islands."

'Some fucking king.'

I bite my tongue from saying anything.

"The man beside me is my brother, Theon Greyjoy."

Theon barely lifts his head up to look at us as he shifts in his spot, seeing nervous beyond belief. He should be for what he did.

"Last time we saw each other was at Winterfell."

Tyrion says, looking down on Theon which in it itself is symbolism.

"I seem to recall you making jokes about my height. Everyone who makes a joke about a dwarf's height thinks he's the only person to ever make a dwarf joke. "The height of nobility," "a man of your stature," "someone to look up to." You're all making the same five or six jokes."

"It was a long time ago..."

Theon whispers and I clench my hands tightly around the handle of Dawn, so tempted to just lift it up a slice him to pieces where he stands.

"Look me in the eyes, Theon."

I demand quietly, and he hesitates before looking at me. That cocky look on his face that he always wore back in Winterfell is gone. From what I can see it's been gone for a long time. Now, instead, replaced with a wounded dog.