A/N: Unexpectedly enough we've arrived at the last chapter... I am trying to avoid excessive suffering in this particular fic since poor Saera has been through enough. Other fics (I promise!) will be more angsty (or less?) and the OCs will have a better relationship with their siblings (if applicable, and if possible considering my plans for them hehe). Enjoy!
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The Red Keep was silent.
Saera sat without speaking, watching the door, Jorah beside her and the Small Council waiting in the wings. She gripped her spear tightly, having to let go every few seconds so she might be able to feel her hand again.
No one dared to move an inch. They scarcely dared to breathe too loud. Everyone was waiting to see what would happen, what Saera would do.
When the doors opened, they flinched. Saera didn't. She remained stiff as a board as four figures walked in, Daenerys followed by Missandei, Grey Worm, and Daario. Tyrion's absence was too obvious. The Mother of Dragons had abandoned her dresses and wore a black coat attached to a red cloak, held to her shoulder by a silver pin and chains bearing the three-headed Targaryen dragon. It almost looked like armor, and it definitely resembled what Saera expected a conqueror to wear.
Missandei called out, "Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, First Of Her Name, The Unburnt, rightful Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Queen of Meereen, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Protector of the Realm, Lady Regent of the Seven Kingdoms, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons."
The court eyed Saera, to see if she'd even grimace at the sound of Daenerys being called the 'rightful' Queen. Only one of them sat the Iron Throne. And even before this Saera had never called herself the 'rightful' Queen because she wasn't.
When Daenerys had stopped at the foot of the throne, glaring at Saera, Brienne announced, "You stand in the presence of Saera of House Targaryen, First of Her Name, The Slayer, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, The Dornish Queen, The Sand Dragon, The Red Serpent, The Dragon Raised by Snakes, The Last Dragon, Lady Regent of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."
Neither sister spoke at first. At last, Saera relaxed her shoulders, "Hello, sister." Daenerys did not react. "I hope you are well..." she continued to glare, causing Saera to add, "though the pout I see on your face is one of a child whose favorite toy was taken away."
Daenerys looked as though she'd been slapped in the face. "And all I see is a usurper."
"Careful," said Saera, fingers drumming over the shaft of her spear. "I sit the Iron Throne, not you."
"You stole the throne," said Daenerys sharply. "You took it from me."
Saera made a face. "I seem to recall snatching it away from Queen Cersei Lannister. When I took it, when my own people brought me to it, it hadn't belonged to the Targaryens for two decades, as per the right of conquest Robert Baratheon took on. I have done the same. I did, not you."
"And you named an heir," said Daenerys. "Jon Snow."
"Jon Stark. Rhaegar's legitimate child. A Targaryen, a Northerner, and a good man. He killed the Night King, he united the wildlings and the kingdoms to fight the Great War. What exactly were you doing while we were defeating the Army of the Dead?"
"Coming up with a way to take back what you stole from me!"
"You had ages to come and take the Iron Throne, ages where I would have killed a thousand men and placed the crown on your head myself. You ignored my advice at every turn, you belittled me, you kept me close because you considered me an enemy. I had every right to take what was mine and go home the way I wanted to. I wanted to help you and you rejected everything I offered. I decided I would do it myself, with my methods, with people I knew would help me."
She leaned forward as Daenerys's chest began to rise and fall heavily, "You are all bark and no bite, dear sister. You made such claims and you fulfilled nothing. The things you did seemed to cause more problems than bring solutions. I rebuilt Meereen after you slaughtered needlessly, I accepted the traditions from the start while you behaved like a stubborn brat. You have accomplished much but how many of those things were truly your doing and not the doing of those who serve you? The Unburnt, let's see, you showed bravery, yes, but it is because of your Valyrian blood that you did not burn. Your dragons, you birthed by chance. You were born during a storm, you were made a Khaleesi against your will and continue to be so only because again, you happen not to be harmed by flames. Breaker of Chains... remind me, how many masters did you crucify in Meereen after breaking the chains of the slaves? How many slaves were killed because you refused to be more open-minded? How many were brought back into chains because you didn't install new practices or do anything at all to stabilize Meereen in your time there?"
"I will bite as needed," said Daenerys, fuming. "I will have my throne or I will have your head. With fire and blood I will take it."
The Queensguard was ready to file between them, but Saera motioned for them to stay back. "Or I might have yours," said Saera coldly, not pleased with her threat. "Let us think for a moment, shall we? The easiest way for you to take the throne is to defeat me in a trial by combat. But you don't know how to fight. And because your strength and ability to lead are in question and not mine, you would have to do it regardless... you wouldn't just be able to pawn it off on Turgon Nudha or Daario Naharis." She smiled thinly at them. "The only other way is to attack. And then... what? The Westerosi will hate you. Because you'll have killed hundreds of not thousands of their own to take a seat you don't deserve and have done nothing to earn.
"You'll be a Mad Queen if you win, and no one will love you or think you inspire them, they will fear you and they will rise against you like they did with Cersei and soon you won't be Queen anymore. And this is an if situation. Because we outnumber you by a great deal. And these people would do anything for me because I showed them mercy and kindness, because I understand and respect their customs, because they know me and I have proved tenfold that I will be a good Queen. You, Daenerys? You want things your way and you forget to care what others will think of it.
"I offer you terms. Apologize on a bent knee and I will let you live on Dragonstone. I will give your armies the resources to either return to Essos and make their own lives there or integrate into this country. I will let you visit whenever you'd like, I will make sure you are married to a good man, and that your dragons are protected. Refuse, and you'll be letting your armies know that you are sending them off to die. That your pride matters more than their lives. I have all Seven Kingdoms and their fighting men protecting me. The Reach, Dorne, and the North are my strongest allies, and they consist of nearly one hundred and fifty thousand men combined. The Westerlands will not forget my generosity, the Knights of the Vale are numerous and formidable, and the Lords of Storm's End and Riverrun are good friends."
She stood, "I'll give you time to consider my generous offer. I suggest you think very carefully about your choice and about the threats you make in my court. In the meantime, I welcome you to stay here and dine with us. Drogon and Rhaegal would enjoy the Dragonpit, I'm sure."
Daenerys looked over at Jorah, perhaps expecting him to say something. When he didn't, she stepped back and let four guards escort them out of the throne room.
Saera waited for the doors to close before she slumped back into the throne, closing her eyes. Jorah dropped to his knees, "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," she sighed, rubbing her forehead. "Ser Brienne, double the patrols around the city and put our best men on the castle watch without increasing the numbers. I don't trust her."
"Your Grace," began Varys. "I think–"
"I hear you, Lord Varys," said Saera. "What she told me..." she clenched her fist, "she said what Queen Rhaenyra told Aegon the Usurper. She thinks herself the rightful heir. She wants my head. Three-Eyed Raven," she nodded to Bran, "please assist Lord Varys in finding out what happened to Tyrion Lannister. Jaime may come in handy if I need to have my sister killed.
"Lady Janei... to borrow an idea from history... I want you to find out where the most strategic holding grounds are to divide the Crown's money– if the need arises– to make sure that if by some bizarre miracle my sister takes the throne, she'll have nothing but or Realm will have the resources to remove her by force. She wishes to be like Rhaenyra... I will force her to tax her subjects the way Rhaenyra had to. They will rip her off the throne herself if she doesn't kill them. And then, she'll rule a land of ash.
"Ser Davos, in the event we must move it, you will have prepared for me a list of your best and most trusted sailors who might transport our money. Maester Samwell, I want you doing research on poisons. Jhiqui, I want you to speak with our Unsullied and Dothraki forces to hear their thoughts. If anyone is willing to speak to her forces on Dragonstone to convince them to abandon her and either join us or leave... it may be helpful. I expect you all at our dinner; I wish for her to see that I have formed a good group and I wish you all to bear witness to all my interactions with my sister."
Jorah walked her to her room, reaching out to hold her hand, thumb carefully caressing her palm and trying to soothe her. "Do not forget the options Lord Varys laid out before," said Jorah. "There is still time for us to leave if we have to."
"Only if it becomes an absolute necessity," she promised. "I refuse to let this turn into another Dance of Dragons. I will not see my country and my people harmed because of a quarrel between me and my sister. It would be childish and pathetic." She stared ahead, "Let us hope Jhiqui can make some progress with our fighters... if they can convince Daenerys's forces that following her is suicide, maybe we don't even have to hurt her. She'll have nothing and be forced to leave. If she continues to threaten me... my banners will root her out. Her army will perish."
"You must not let your kindness get in the way," warned Jorah. "I know you still love your sister, my Queen, I know that she is your blood and you do not wish to hurt her. But her desire to harm you has only mounted and she will show no mercy. Thus... neither should you. You're not only protecting yourself now, you're protecting an entire kingdom."
"And our future," said Saera, stopping in front of the door of her room and placing their linked hands over her belly. "Should I tell her?"
He hesitated. "It is likely, as you said before, that she will not wish to hurt you if she knows about it. But it might also make her angrier even if the babe isn't going to be your heir. Of course... I am sure her advisors would not condone her murdering you in this condition. Perhaps Missandei and Grey Worm– even Daario Naharis– can be instrumental in shaping her decisions."
"You're right. I will summon them before dinner. Give them something to think about."
She called only Grey Worm and Missandei to the Small Council chambers, figuring it was best not to include Daario. She didn't trust him as much, knew him even less than the other two. Daario might not be as sympathetic as Jorah thought.
Though, if this went well, he could be the next person she spoke to.
"Missandei, Turgon Nudha," greeted Saera. "It is good to see you both again."
The woman smiled politely, but Grey Worm remained stone-faced. "Please, sit," she offered, lowering herself into her chair. She'd had a platter of fruit laid out for them. "I hope you both have been well."
"We hope the same of you," said Missandei kindly. "Though I wish we were meeting under better circumstances."
"As do I. I didn't want the throne, you both know that. I never wanted a war. I wanted my freedom, same as you both. I wanted to help my sister. This, I never lied about. She is family, whether she feels that way about me or not. I would have named her my heir even after this, but she has shown me disrespect, she has threatened my life. She refuses to see why I did what I did, why I felt this way. I don't intend to cry to you in the hopes you will make her see reason. I think that would be foolish. I want to talk about your loyalty."
Grey Worm frowned. "Our... loyalty?"
"Yes. You believe in her. Enough to follow her here. It is admirable and I respect you both very much for sticking so firmly by her. But I want to ask how far that loyalty extends... if it does... when she asks you to hurt the innocent."
"Our Queen doesn't ask such things," said Grey Worm.
"But you realize that in her rage, people will get hurt here, yes? You realize she will take the Iron Throne by any means? Perhaps she will burn this city and all the innocent civilians in it? She will force her armies into these lands and bring war conditions back to kingdoms already struggling to readjust to a peaceful life, which will likely bring about starvation, death, and fear? Even for small children? Plenty of children died in these past wars. Unnecessary deaths because wars are vicious and cruel.
"But they can be avoided. I know you are both good people with good hearts and you don't want to hurt anyone innocent. I feel the same way. And I don't think it would be right for this country to fall back into a state of war because Daenerys is demanding a throne neither of us had a right to. I'm trying to make this country better. A country I grew up in. A country I understand, a country where I am loved. Perhaps you don't think it is so; I don't blame you. Despite how much time we spent together, we hardly know one another. My sister and I were at odds very early on and I... did not do enough to try to show either of you my side in things. I truly hope that you do not hate me, that you do not think I am a wicked woman for all that's transpired. My sister has many many good qualities but so do I. And I think mine are better suited for this."
Missandei and Grey Worm shared a look. "You are kind, Saera, this we don't deny," said Missandei. "You earned your names for a reason. The armies loved you, Meereen... loved you. But we love Daenerys. She is the Queen we chose."
Saera was silent for a moment. "What about Tyrion? Where did he go?"
"He chose to leave."
"And why is that?"
She hesitated. Grey Worm looked down, which apparently gave her the confidence to continue, "He believed Queen Daenerys planned to take things too far. He chose to go with his brother instead, to make a new life somewhere else. He's in Pentos, most likely."
"I see. And it does not concern either of you that he worried she might take things too far? That cities will burn, children will die or lose their homes, dragons may have to kill one another, you may both lose your lives... all for Daenerys to have a throne? A throne she doesn't exactly know how to sit because she's so set on jumping to violence immediately, thinks that justice is answered only with justice and not mercy at times? Do you want to follow a queen who inspires fear?"
"What are you asking us to do?" asked Missandei. "Speak plainly."
"Only that you reconsider your position here. Your long-term goals. You both deserve to be happy. To go back to Naath if you wish, or to explore all the things this world has to offer. There is only so much you can do when you're following Daenerys. When you are supporting someone who is not going to be a good ruler. Think about that, that is all I ask. If you decide you don't wish to participate in this anymore... well, if she is a good Queen, if she is truly the woman fighting for freedom that you believe her to be... she will let you go. I don't want to hurt any of you. But you will inevitably lose this war. A war I do not want. For the sake of my kingdom, for the families of all those I care about."
She placed a hand over her stomach. "For my family. I only want to make Westeros better for those that will come after. Daenerys once claimed to want the same thing. But what she's turned that desire into... it's no longer something pure. Her jealousy has turned into something else. I fear what that might do to me, to those I care about. This kingdom will be destabilized if she takes the throne. Think of how Meereen was under her rule and what I turned it into. I'm not sure what she did or didn't keep; maybe she made it even better. I don't know. But from what I've seen... I'm not impressed. Nor do I have high hopes."
"Thank you, Saera," said Missandei, standing up abruptly, hands shaking as if this revelation worried her tremendously. She doubted it was for a bad reason; Missandei was too gentle for that. Maybe she knew something Saera didn't, maybe she knew that Saera was right. "You have indeed given us much to think about. We will see you at dinner."
Saera watched them go, hoping that Daenerys would learn about her pregnancy from them. That they'd tell her their side of it, that they'd oppose a war.
She had to wait and see.
Jhiqui came to find her as she was dressing herself for dinner. "Anha astolat ma kishi mahrazhi qisi mori qothat. Ei ki eyak okkat elat ki yer, anna Khaleesi, akka jin khasar zhorre ray eshat jin rhaggat eveth elat ha Zhavorsa-Negwin. Kazga Himno akka Kavarro shillolat mori tikh laz tat eyak rek sillat Daenerys ajjin vo jin." (T: I spoke with our men about their loyalty. All of them stick firmly by you, my Queen, and a group have already boarded a ship sailing for Dragonstone. Black Fist and Kavarro believe they will be able to convince them that following Daenerys is not the answer.)
She smiled gratefully, reaching out to cup her face. "Jin tikh rhellaya sanekhi, Jhiqui." She accepted her help to tighten the dress. "Mae Dothrakhqoyi... tikh mori addrivat anna fin kisha zhorre vo vosma tat addrivat mae?" (T: This will help a lot, Jhiqui. Her Bloodriders... will they kill me if we have no choice but to kill her?)
Jhiqui tilted her head, unsure. "Mori tikh addrivat jin mahrazh fin tat me. Ishish tikh jin ato fin. Fin kishi mahrazhi tat attar, mori tikh akk ajin tikh." (T: They will kill whoever dealt the blow. Perhaps the one who ordered it. If our men do their duty, they will leave and this will not be a problem.)
She had to hope this could be one of the rare circumstances where the Bloodriders wouldn't enact vengeance. If it came to that.
(And she feared it would.)
She arrived early to dinner, accompanied only by Jorah. One by one the Small Council members trickled in, but Daenerys did not arrive. It wasn't until the food was being served that the doors opened. Daenerys, once again in her black coat with red cape, walked in accompanied by Missandei, Daario, and Grey Worm.
She didn't look happy. Saera remained tense, physically, but smiled and offered for her to sit directly across from her. "I've had our chefs prepare a variety of things, to tailor to all tastes. There is pork, chicken, a rather delicious beef stew. Please, help yourselves. And wine, please pass the wine."
"Even though you won't drink any?" asked Daenerys curtly.
So they had told her. As expected.
"I don't mind being the only one with an empty cup," said Saera calmly. "I've grown used to it."
Daenerys eyed Jorah. "From a lowly exiled advisor to King Consort of the Seven Kingdoms. A spy and now... the most envied man in all of Westeros."
Jorah smiled tightly, "The Queen pardoned me. I am a changed man. And even so I will never be able to apologize enough for what I did."
"That is past," said Saera. "I prefer to focus on the good deeds instead of the bad. Such a way of thinking is what has given me many new allies. It's preferable to keep an open mind."
"So open, in fact, that you'd let the throne pass around to different families. It doesn't sound like you think you'll be a very good Queen."
"Oh, I know I will be a good one. But it doesn't mean I should be in power for decades. Eventually my mind will no longer be sharp and good Queen or not, I could make terrible decisions. And what, the people would have to endure it because I am their Queen? I do not think any one person should be in power too long. After a while, power corrupts. Or the stress of being a ruler takes a toll. I want to have enough time to devote to my child or children, however many may come. Our father didn't exactly make much time for us growing up. Our mother, we saw often, but even she was hard to find on some days."
Daenerys stared at her. "I've considered your offer. And I will return to Meereen."
Too suspicious, in Saera's mind. How easy it would be for Daenerys to leave now then come back with her dragons and armies when a different ruler sat the throne, when someone like Jon who had no dragons was there and vulnerable to someone like Daenerys.
"Just like that?" asked Saera. "No more arguing? No bargaining for me to be more merciful?"
"We both want to avoid a war," said Daenerys. "I don't want to lose my men and I don't want to lose my dragons."
"Good," said Saera, side-eyeing Jorah, who took her hand and held it tight. "Well, in that case, I invite you to stay this whole week. I wish for us to dine like this each day, to share our plans for the future. I would like for Westeros and all of the Bay of Dragons to be allies. If a time should come when it is necessary... we will support one another."
Daenerys's eyes gleamed. "Yes, we will."
Saera made a decision that night. Whatever was decided by the Unsullied and the Dothraki, whether they would stay with Daenerys or leave on their own, she would not trust that her sister would be at ease and unbothered in Meereen.
She wanted the throne. She planned to take it. She seemed to believe she had only to bide her time.
She didn't want to kill Daenerys. And she wouldn't, not unless it became absolutely necessary.
But she would keep her out. She would wait, she would try to hatch the dragon eggs they found on Dragonstone. She would rule and have as many children as she wished, she would prepare Jon to be King, and when she was sure that they were safe– either because Daenerys had been taken care of or because her sister had had enough time to cool off– she would abdicate and place the crown on her nephew's head.
It was strange, to want the throne, to protect it, when years ago the thought never crossed her mind. All her fantasies about her sister and the relationship they would have, none came true.
But a dream she wasn't aware of did. A throne, a home, a family, safety.
Her sister had lived to break chains and wheels. Saera had lived convinced she was broken beyond repair.
Daenerys was trapped in her own mind, breaking herself because all she could think of was a goal that no longer made sense. Saera was free, healed and seizing the happiness she thought she'd never have after she lost everything.
Two Queens, two lives, two sides.
Only one would ever sit the throne.
And Saera already did.
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A/N: Keep reading for the Final Author's Note!