The Dragon's Home

Truth

Note from the author: You DEFINITELY need to listen to Truth while you read this.

The explosions had stopped. The dust was settling. The surrender bells had been rung.

The citizens of King's Landing began to slowly appear in the streets, to see the damage, to see who had been lost.

Cersei, had set off wildfire in the city. The Mad Queen. Killing thousands of innocents.

The wailing began. The sobs and screams of those left behind.

The Golden Company had opened their ranks to allow the small army of Dothraki, Unsullied, and Northmen to walk through the gates.

Tyrion, Sansa, Varys and Ser Davos walked together down the streets of King's Landing, surveying the damage. Even with the thick smog, they should be able to see the dragons, right?

There, just ahead Tyrion could make out people forming. His companions looked to one another, quickening their pace. Even Sansa, in her dress, began to jog until they reached the crowd.

And the two great masses above it.

There was Drogon, amidst the ash and smoke, with Rhaegal behind him. Protecting his brother, shielding him. Tyrion breathed a sigh of relief as he saw Rhaegal's chest rise and fall, the ash still falling, clouding view of the ground below them.

The crowds kept a great distance back. Even the crying had seemed to stop as they waited with baited breath.

Drogon swept his mighty tail, and Tyrion had to shield his eyes with a hand as the smog was brushed towards them.

He blinked a few times, rubbing his eyes.

As two figures appeared in the smoke. Standing.

Tyrion and Sansa began to push through, gently parting the crowd to get a better look.

One dark, one light.

Their faces and hair covered in ash. Wearing only golden cloaks - appearing to be naked underneath.

The Unburnt.

Tyrion fell to one knee.

As did every person who stood within eyesight of them.

Bowed before the True King and Queen of Westeros.