Chapter 17

“Most of our troops are still scattered all over the Seven Kingdoms, even more so now that the Dothraki and the Unsullied are on the march across the Stormlands, wresting much of them from our control,” Ser Jaime Lannister laid out the current disaster that was the war map of Westeros while standing next to the Iron Throne.

“Many of their troops are unavailable to them as well, both in the North and in the Stormlands, to say nothing of the Riverlands. We can still defeat them, and their precious King, Jon Snow, right here in King’s Landing, deliver the death blow that would buy us time to reckon with the North and the Dragon Queen. It’s these wretched, disloyal, mutinous Gold Cloaks of the City Watch that are the trouble. Who would have guessed that they would turn their cloaks just for that turncoat Ser Bronn of the Blackwater?” Cersei insisted from the Iron Throne, doing her best to ignore the pain as the blades kept biting and cutting into her naked flesh.

“Some irony there, Your Grace. Ser Bronn helped you hold King’s Landing against Stannis Baratheon when he was last Lord Commander of the City Watch. Now, they’ve turned to him again, he’s Lord Commander again, and he’s working with your brother, who was the Hand of the King back then, to wrest it from you at last. Isn’t that the wheel of fate turning in an odd direction?” a voice spoke directly to all of them from out of the shadows of the Great Hall, stepping forward to reveal a woman in a red robe, a ruby amulet at her throat.

“Who would you be, then?” Cersei demanded of the woman.

“Melisandre of Asshai, the same Red Priestess who revived Jon Snow from the dead. Yes, I did that. I was also the same woman who served Stannis Baratheon against you, though I was barred from the battle. If I had not been, Stannis would be sitting on that same throne right now, and you would both likely be dead. I was also the same Red Priestess who burned Shireen Baratheon at the stake as a sacrifice to the Lord of Light, one which he understandably did not appreciate. That was a horrible crime and a dreadful mistake on my part. In any case, I came to offer you one last chance to escape your doom.

“Bend the knee to Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen, together. She will soon be back in King’s Landing, only this time, she will not bypass it. How long can you hope to hold out against three fire-breathing dragons? Or even one, for that matter. I urge you both to parley, now, while you still have the chance. It is not too late. There might yet be some mercy, even for Cersei Lannister, the Usurper Queen. Or, at the very least, let everyone leave your retinue who is not willing to die. Because, I swear to you, both of you, if you continue long enough down this path of resistance to Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen, you will both die.

“The people of King’s Landing do not wish to perish for your sake, nor do they deserve it. I fear very much for their safety, especially if your secret plans for wildfire with those caches below the various towers and houses and septs of the capital, are carried out. Yes, I know all about the wildfire, as does Ser Jaime, who has been trying to reason with you for some time now, Cersei. As for you, Ser Jaime, you did your duty to Westeros once. Perhaps you’ll do it again and save us all from disaster. It would probably get you killed by your enormous friend here, but so be it. It would be a heroic sacrifice for the smallfolk and nobles of King’s Landing alike, if not for all of Westeros.

“Whatever you do, I urge you not to continue this horrible folly of a battle and a war. I beseech you to make peace with the Starks and Targaryens by means of surrender. They are stronger, and will only grow stronger still. You’re weaker and your defeat is only delayed, not prevented, by this foolish resistance to the forces of Houses Stark and Targaryen. Worse still, this battle merely wastes lives better risked in combat against the Night King and the Army of the Dead, the real enemy of Westeros and of all men,” Melisandre presented her case against war to the Lannister Queen and the Kingslayer themselves.

“The Night King? What rubbish! There is no such thing. This is a trick, an attempt to get revenge on me for thwarting your evil plot to shove your foreign god down our throats through Stannis Baratheon! I tell you now, Red Woman, I am not frightened by children’s tales, old legends, myths, and fables. I am a Lannister, not a Stark or Targaryen or Tully or Baratheon! I believe in wealth, power, things that you can see! Not magic and other such follies,” Cersei mocked even talk of the Night King and the Army of the Dead.

Cersei tossed back a good amount of wine as she sat there on the Iron Throne, trying not to let it cut her again. She watched as Melisandre attempted to exit the Great Hall without another word, before Ser Gregor attempted to block her. Melisandre simply whispered something to the Mountain, and he abruptly sheathed his sword. Even stranger than this, he took off his helmet for a moment, turned to face Cersei Lannister, shook his gloved fist at her, put his helm back on, and physically carried Ashlyh out of their presence without speaking to them again. Just like that, the Mountain had deserted the Kingsguard and the Lannister cause, not unlike his brother Sandor, the Hound.

“What did she say to him, to make him defect and abduct Ashlyh from us? This is very troubling, worrisome indeed. The Mountain alone bought us time to recapture the Great Hall and the Iron Throne. I fear the worst,” Ser Jaime almost brushed his hair from his face with his golden hand.

His anger and fear both grew at once, making him dangerously closer to another Tywin Lannister outburst.

“Why didn’t any of you stop him? Or her, for that matter?” Cersei demanded for her part.

She was furious now herself, but also terrified and feeling quite ill as well as drunk and filthy.

Worse still, Cersei’s bodily needs were more intense than ever. She had also been fucked not long before. She had a full bladder, an upset stomach, and a strong craving for wine that seemed to grow worse by the day. She had more bizarre fantasies every night, and she had miscarried their child already and dared not tell Jaime about it. Continued cuts and bleeding from the blades of the Iron Throne threatened infection. Stress and fear grew over the recent defeats, while being barred from Maegor’s Holdfast meant that she could not bathe yet.

Well, she thought, unless I can slip away to the Maidenvault for just such a moment. I need to wash these cuts and I feel like the worst sort of filthy street whore, not a Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Yes, why not? Cersei, without thinking of the consequences, rose from the Iron Throne and thus unwittingly moved the ground beneath her own feet and that of House Lannister. Little did she know it, but she would never sit on the Iron Throne again.

“I am leaving for a bath. Anyone care to join me?” Cersei laughed as she dragged Tyene Sand by her hair, which started to grow while in the Black Cells, “you’ll make a good maidservant, since one of them betrayed me and another has been kidnapped by the Mountain.”

Ser Jaime started to join Cersei in the Maidenvault, but the High Septon now stood in front of him to bar his way.

“Milord, this has gone on long enough. This perversity of your sister sitting upon the Iron Throne, a woman no less, seeking to rule over men! Let us proclaim you King, milord, divorce your sister, and offer your hand in marriage to Daenerys Targaryen. Half of Jon Snow’s men would defect to you instantly, and then, well, we won’t need this nonsense of a marriage of incestuous kind, will we? He could die a traitor’s death, Cersei could be sent away somewhere quietly, to live out her days of madness until she no longer plagues anyone. Our men would take heart with you on the Iron Throne, would they not?” the High Septon tried to persuade him.

Much of the Small Council stood in apparent league with him.

“We concur with this. Your sister is not fit to rule the Seven Kingdoms, milord, but you are. You can end this mad, godless war and put the Faith back in command of Westeros. You alone can restore the luster of House Lannister, whereas your sister, the incestuous adulteress and murderer of thousands, who really trusts her? You know what she did to the Great Sept of Baelor. You know what that did to King Tommen, did you not see? He lost his Queen and he died in despair at his own hand! Claim the Iron Throne yourself, we’ll support you, invite Tyrion Lannister to be your Hand, and make Daenerys Targaryen your Queen. This, and only this, is the way to save Westeros,” Ser Jardan Haigh supported the High Septon.

“Do you agree with this, Grand Maester?” Jaime turned to Arren now.

“Yes, milord, this is the way to act now. Cersei is a Mad Queen, just as mad as the Mad King Aerys II that you slew once, O Kingslayer. We do not ask you to spill her blood, merely to spill her from the Iron Throne,” Arren showed his concord with the others.

“And you, Dander?” Jaime asked the new Master of Whispers.

“No, milord. This is folly. We must destroy their King and Queen. Assasination. That is the path forward, milord. Once they’re dead, we prevail and you will not have to discard your sweet sister, the Queen. There is no way that the Dragon Queen or the White Wolf will ever make peace with you now, short of our abject surrender,” Dander surprised the others by daring to dissent.

“He is right. This is nonsense, cousin, and you know it. This is a fantasy. The war has become personal, a war to the very dagger’s tip. They must die, and once they do, the land can be reborn from their blood, in peace,” Ser Wyllam backed Dander instead of his cousin.

“Thank you for your honesty, men, and your flattery, now this is what I have to say about it. I will be King, but not by betraying my sister. You, High Septon, will perform the wedding now, and I will try to forget your treasonous words, and those of your colleagues. Come with me, now, to the Maidenvault, where my sister awaits. The rest of you men can continue to guard the Great Hall for our return. For now, the Small Council will retire to the Maidenvault, where we shall hold the wedding once the Queen is restored to a better state of heart, body, and mind through her bath,” Ser Jaime Lannister, the Hand of the Queen, stormed off.

He didn’t wait to see who would follow him to his sister’s side.

Unknown to Ser Jaime, almost the first thing that the High Septon did upon hearing this was to simply walk away from the Great Hall, but in the opposite direction. He did this just in time to see Daenerys Targaryen landing Drogon on the nearest open ground she could find close to the Red Keep. As Dany climbed off Drogon, the High Septon approached her and knelt in her presence, not giving any warning that he would bend the knee to her. He also kissed her bare, bleeding, and dirty feet, in a gesture that completely ignored both the filth and her nakedness.

“I beg your pardon, Mother of Dragons. I ... have erred, have sinned, have wronged you, the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I beseech you to forgive me my treason and pardon me of my crimes. I no longer serve that lawless, sinful Queen, as she has now done the unthinkable. Surely, Your Grace, you can show the Mother’s mercy to me and allow me to live and remain at my post under your rule,” the same High Septon spoke.

He had shown such disdain for reigning queens, but now he feigned true fealty to one who happened to share power with her husband.

“And you would be?” Dany demanded to know.

Her skin crawled from his revolting touch.

“The ... High Septon of the Faith of the Seven, Your Grace. I am not permitted to ... to say my name, none are, but I am the High Septon, I assure you. What would you have me do, my Queen?” the High Septon assured her.

“I trust, then, that you will throw the full backing of the Faith of the Seven and all of its septons, including the Most Devout, behind myself and my husband, my nephew, Jon Snow, recognizing our marriage and our rule as true and lawful? You have, after all, bent the knee to me, and that is rather hard to undo. Your former Queen is not likely to forgive this, in the unlikely event that she should prevail now. By kneeling to me, you’ve acknowledge me as your Queen, which means that you acknowledge my laws as true, including the one that proclaims Jon Snow and myself co-regents, rulers together through marriage and alliance, over all of the Seven Kingdoms.

“By kneeling to me, High Septon, you have deserted your former Queen and have committed yourself already to my service and cause. I see that you hesitate. Why? Surely, you know that you cannot take back your fealty once it is sworn to a King or Queen. The deed is done. It cannot now be undone. What is the issue, then?” Dany questioned the now wavering, hesitate High Septon.

“Well, your Grace, incest is not permitted in marriage, which is a sacred trust and ordinance of the Faith. It is consecrated to the Seven, after all. The very reason that I turned against Cersei Lannister is that she proposes to wed her own brother, Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, and let him rule at her side. Now, aunt with nephew is not as extreme, I’ll grant you, but this cannot be. Not in the laws of the Gods, of the Seven. Not in the texts of the Seven-Pointed Star. You propose to have us acknowledge your marriage. Surely, you can annul this marriage and find a better way to mollify the King in the North, can you not? Or simply get rid of him?” the High Septon pleaded with Dany.

He was unaware of just how close he came now to incurring her full wrath, of “waking the dragon,” as Viserys once warned.

“So, her destroying the Great Sept of Baelor with wildfire is not too much for you, but the day that she wishes to wed her brother, that is a sin too much? What manner of clergyman are you, sir? Certainly not one that I wish to retain in office. Nor will I betray my rightful lord, Jon Snow, whose birthright is even better than mine. Nor will I break the vows of marriage in which I swore to be his, in the light of the Seven, I might add, in their name, vows which made us rulers together of the Seven Kingdoms, Protectors of the Realm.

“That’s treason! I do not know what your texts tell you about such disloyalty, but I have lost all respect for you. I wish you now to discontinue your office,” Dany shouted angrily at him.

They now drew attention from Westerosi from on both sides, making them cease their mayhem and combat so as to listen to her.

“You ... intend to dismiss me, then?” the High Septon groveled to Dany, “please do not! I will obey. I will serve you both. I was wrong!”

“No, instead of dismissing you, I, Daenerys Stormborn, of House Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Mother of Dragons, the Breaker of Chains, sentence you to die,” Dany declared.

She gave the man just seconds to contemplate his horrific doom that was now sealed.

“Dracarys!” Dany told Drogon.

The great dragon belched out fire that instantly burned the High Septon alive, his screams drawing more attention from both sides of the battle. By now, Jon Snow himself stepped out to greet his wife at last, rushing into her arms even as the screams of the High Septon died down. That he didn’t worry about the burned cleric yet told his followers one thing: there were limits even to the mercy of Jon Snow, and one line not to cross was his love for his new bride. He kissed Dany very eagerly, much more than expected by either of them, each missing the other badly by now. The fact that she returned the kiss with equal ardor convinced Jon that she wasn’t going to be ruled by petty jealousy.

“So ... you know, then? About me. I didn’t even know about me!” Jon informed Dany.

He now led her back to Maegor’s Holdfast to shouts of applause from their men.

“Yes, nephew, I know about you. This feels odd, but liberating in a way. There is no way, as proved by that High Septon who I just burned, that this will be lightly accepted by all and sundry people in Westeros. You might get some ... hard feelings. Still, people need to learn to put this behind them, and they will. Once they realize the danger that they, we, are all in, they’ll come to accept it. Most Westerosi, I wager, won’t care less that the old Targaryen ways are back. This is especially true with me unable to bear children. They will worry far more about defeating the enemy that cannot be bought off or simply killed off.

“They will have to make a choice: the brother and sister who wish to rule as man and wife or the aunt and nephew who do. Besides, I am not the true heir, it seems. That would be you, my lord husband. With you in command, someone who has the respect and trust of many who do not yet know me, doubts about me can be laid to rest. With me at your side, any who fear that House Stark will become too ascendant and the old gods reimposed on them will have less to worry on that score. Fears of reprisals from either of us can be tempered by our shared rule,” Dany assured her partner.

“True heir or not, I married you, thinking that you were and that I was simply King in the North. This was and remains an alliance, both against the Lannisters and against the Dead. You have brought men, horses, weapons, money, and the Targaryen name to this league, while I have brought the Stark banners to the same. You are my wife, not simply my aunt. We took vows in the eyes of the same gods worshiped by my father, Prince Rhaeger Targaryen. They are not my gods, but I am honor bound by these vows and wish to renew them in the godswood, my dear Queen.

“That is not all, of course. I love you. I have only loved one other woman before you, and she was a Wildling named Ygritte. This is the same kind of rush. I knew it for sure when I saw you again and had to embrace you! Yes, it is incest, and yes, I will not lie, it troubles me. Nevertheless, I would be remiss if I didn’t add that there is some ... excitement to finally doing something forbidden by everything that I was taught.

“My entire life, I have struggled very hard to be very good. To behave, to deny myself and my wishes, to accept harsh treatment from Catelyn Stark, to refuse to sire bastards, all to atone for a bastardy that would not have been my fault, but wasn’t even true in the first place. I did everything loyally and right, except when I lay with Ygritte, albeit in service to the greater good.

“This moment, it feels like that again, free to shake off the shackles of my Stark code for once and be me, Jon Snow, as I would be without the guilt and shame making me doubt and deprive myself. I always did the right thing, except with Ygritte, and it cost my lover, and me, our lives. I was murdered in malice, in a mutiny by my own men, the only peace short of her arms found in the cold bosom of Death. Even that peace was shattered in the name of duty, my soul forced back into my corpse to live again, never to quite trust another man the same way again.

“That was what I got for my trouble, for my virtue, for my duty, for my honor. Death. I also learned that nothing awaits us beyond the grave, nothing at all. There are no Heavens or Hells, seven or otherwise. Melisandre was correct about that. The only Hell that exists is the present one in which we walk, live, and breathe. So, no, for once, I have chosen to break that code and live, to do whatever must be done to save Westeros and let history worry about the glory or honor of it,” Jon Snow confessed.

He thus revealed his growing bitterness at his life and his defiance for once of the rules of conduct that once dominated his actions.

“I am glad that you see it my way now, but I must apologize for some things. I ask your understanding of them. First, I regret asking you to bend the knee when we first met. That was wrong. Also wrong was burning Lord Randyll Tarly and his son Dickon. I have just completed a Walk of Atonement, not appease the Gods, but to make amends to House Tarly, the family of your own Samwell, your old friend.

“Also, however, I must confess that I have been ... unfaithful to you. Not with a man, but with a woman. Missandei, my very own interpreter. I have enjoyed her favors and she has enjoyed mine, bonding over our mutual love and loneliness of our absent lovers. I ask that you forgive me this, but also grant my petition. I ... ask that you take Missandei to bed, to couple with her, as a favor to me. This will also set the scales balanced again and give her the seed that she cannot receive from Grey Worm.

“I understand if this is a bit much to swallow, but please remember that Missandei loves Grey Worm as fiercely as I love you. She ... cannot receive him that way, let alone bear him children. She is desperate to give him sons and daughters. The three of us, we can make this work, you know. The four of us, once Grey Worm returns, as it would be only just if we allow him to grace my bed as well. Just think on it, please, dear husband, as you’re already throwing out the rules and starting afresh, are you not? Life is too short to deny yourself anything,” Dany encouraged him now.

“Well, this is rather staggering, but I must confess to being unfaithful as well. It was necessary, as Bernadette was of great aid and use in aiding our capture of parts of the Red Keep. Bernadette is Cersei’s own maidservant. Each of us, Tyrion, Ser Bronn of the Blackwater, and myself have lain with her. Bronn will wed her, but she will conceive by one of us. She wanted our seed, to be conceived by at least one of us, so we took turns with her. I believe, my Queen, that I am now well beyond such worries. I am married to my own aunt, something that I would never contemplate in my wildest dreams or fantasies, I am a King now, or will be if we prevail, and closing to being that King than ever. I yielded my body and seed up to achieve this, because if I did not, the Army of the Dead would make all such moral worries very moot indeed. I married you for politics, but I fell in love with you just the same. So, yes, my Queen, I will forgive you all of this, if you forgive my seeding Bernadette,” Jon Snow reassured Dany now.

He kissed her just seconds before they heard something.

“Yes, of course, milord, but we still must win that war,” Dany reminded him, adding, “though Drogon can always help that cause in a pinch.”

“Indeed he can, in a pinch as you say. Howbeit we have agreed, Your Grace, that you are not here to be Queen of the ashes,” Tyrion reminded them of his presence.

“That we have. Nor am I to be King of the ashes, if it can be avoided. Ashes make piss-poor soldiers, even for the Army of the Dead. In any case, what is the report on the present circumstances?” Jon demanded to know.

“Your Graces, I believe that the Mountain has deserted the Lannister camp, taking a maidservant with him, according to a witness that just surrendered him to us seconds ago. Ser Jaime and Cersei Lannister have now rushed off to the Maidenvault, leaving the Great Hall in the hands of their guards, but none of their captains to command them. This witness also reports seeing the Red Woman, Melisandre, enter the Great Hall, shortly before the Mountain’s desertion. He also mentioned Tyene Sand leaving in the company of Jaime and Cersei. Against her will, I might add,” Ser Davos announced.

“Bring me this witness, then,” Dany interjected.

“Indeed. I would like to hear from him as well,” Jon agreed with Dany.

They now held hands, both of them holding back their amorous mood due to the duties of their crowns.

“Ser Bronn,” Ser Jorah called for the Lord Commander of the City Watch to bring in their witness, Ser Jardan Haigh, Master of Coin.

“Your Graces ... I am Ser Jardan Haigh, Master of Coin. Or at least I was, in the Small Council of Queen Cersei. What I saw, toward the end there, it was not pretty. There is a reason that you’ve had some time to reunite with each other, as I must surmise from the delay in seeing me. Ser Jaime Lannister has joined Cersei Lannister in the Maidenvault, where they are holed up with their Kingsguard, some Lannister guards, my cousin, Ser Wyllam Haigh, who serves as Master of Ships, Grand Maester Arren, Dander, the Master of Whispers, and Tyene Sand, the last surviving Sand Snake.

“Ser Jaime has been serving as Hand of the Queen and Master of War, lately at least. There has also been a great deal of pressure on the Faith and the High Septon, the ... late High Septon, to approve a royal marriage between Ser Jaime and Cersei. This would permit them to rule as husband and wife rather than merely brother and sister. They would be King and Queen in such a case, though naturally that has been resisted, even by the slimy, conniving, mealy-mouthed High Septon that they chose. That was, it seems, the one thing that drew his moral outrage, when nothing else would.

“As for me, the end came when Ser Jaime disregarded my counsel. This was to dismiss Cersei, essentially put her aside somewhere, and seek to marry you, Your Grace. I must confess, my King, that this was done with an eye toward your downfall, but clearly that was not meant to be. You must truly be loved by the Gods, for no scheme against you can ever seem to prosper for long. Surely, though, in that light, I can be forgiven this crime?” Ser Jardan pleaded with the White Wolf and the Dragon Queen.

“I see, and the respite in fighting, this was due to this confusion and abandonment of the Great Hall by the Lannisters?” Lord Varys asked Ser Jardan.

“Partly, milord, but also due to the dragon. Soldiers of the Lannister camp are not inclined to risk drawing too close to it, after all. Their best and bravest men already perished fighting a dragon at the Battle of the Goldroad. House Lannister grows poorer and weaker by the day, and this is not even counting the Iron Bank of Braavos. Ser Jaime and Cersei have both made overtures toward Harry Strickland and the Golden Company. Of course, without the gold already lost to the Iron Bank and with none to replace it and no new loans, well, you can imagine the difficulties,” Ser Jardan said.

He thus reminded the Spider and others of just how terrified the Lannister men truly were of dragons now.

“Indeed. Drogon is already paying our cause dividends, I can see,” Dany smiled.

She imagined how terrifying the dragon must be to their enemies.

“I would say so. He bought us time to speak frankly to each other and still prepare for another attack. So, what you mean is that House Lannister is no longer as rich as it used to be. It’s low on both blood and treasure. It is bluffing even now to buy time in hopes of a last miracle or last stand, for that matter. Am I correct in this much?” Jon confronted Ser Jardan now.

“That is precisely what I mean, Your Grace. House Lannister is low on men and cash, both of which compound each other as troubles go. To add to this, more land is being wrested from their control, making levies of soldiers and taxes more difficult as well. There is a growing reluctance to resist or fight the Dothraki or the Unsullied in any capacity. Worst of all, the wagon trains lost on the Goldroad carried grain, wheat, barley. In other words, there’s a risk of privation, of hunger, famine, starvation. Or at least malnourishment, with the old and infirm dying first. Not to mention disease. King’s Landing is now a city besieged, albeit from within. The sooner it falls, the fewer people die,” Ser Jardan told them all very bluntly.

“All the more reason to take it now. We need only capture the rest of the Red Keep, I would say, including the Great Hall, the Maidenvault, and the White Sword Tower. We are now possibly counting the last hours of my sister’s rule. Stannis didn’t get this close, though he was close enough that my sister contemplated taking her own life. If I know my sister, she retreated to the Maidenvault because it was the closest place to have a bath. The Great Hall doesn’t have one of those, nor does it have a kitchen.

“I propose that we take the Great Hall first. We capture that, my sister and brother will know that they are trapped and surrounded. Then the remaining Lannister guards will know that they are beaten, even if they continue to fight as ordered,” Tyrion offered his own ideas on taking the Red Keep, “there are many secret passages, I believe, that could be used to take the Great Hall from beneath, and it’s time that we use them.”

“Indeed, there are, milord. If one of you wishes to lead a party into the Great Hall to finish the job there, I can guide them,” Bernadette now offered the Stark and Targaryen troops.

“I would like that very much. Let me have that, Your Grace. I was denied it when Stannis lost, but I would like to take the Great Hall of the Red Keep now. If I may, Your Grace,” Ser Davos asked first Jon and then Dany.

“You have more than earned it, Ser Davos. Follow Bernadette and take as many handpicked men as you deem necessary, but capture the Great Hall. This is your moment,” Jon encouraged the Onion Knight.

Ser Davos grinned as he led Gendry and several Northmen in the attack.

“This is your chance as well, Ser Jorah. I would like you to capture White Sword Tower. It seems like a good place for diversion,” Dany proposed that her old friend have a significant role in the fighting as well.

“Naturally, Khaleesi,” Ser Jorah knelt as he accepted the mission with pleasure.

“Oh, and Ser Jorah, your former wife sends her best wishes for your health. I doubt that she means it, but I made her perform a Walk of Atonement as well on your behalf. I don’t think that she handled it as well as I did. I have an inkling that she regrets how she treated you, her former husband. At the very least she regrets that she isn’t wed to a powerful knight now soon to be the victor of White Sword Tower,” Dany told him.

Then she gave the knight a last embrace, just in case he perished.

Ser Jorah was not accustomed to being embraced by his Khaleesi. He nodded and enjoyed the moment while he could. Then he broke the embrace and drew his sword to assault the White Sword Tower with a small number of worthy, personally handpicked Dothraki. This would make for an excellent diversion. If he should perish, at least he was warmed by a hug from his Khaleesi before he died. He knew that she meant it more as a daughter than a lover, but it was affection from his Dany nonetheless.

“What about the Maidenvault, then?” Lord Varys inquired now.

“We take the other places first, surrounding the Maidenvault on all sides. The Lannisters will then have to decide if they wish to fight a futile last ditch stand against overwhelming numbers, or else, surrender. At that point, it might not be up to my brother and sister anymore what happens. I’m inclined to make one last appeal to Jaime at least, but Cersei is beyond all redemption, I believe. As I said, though, it might well be out of their hands by then. They aren’t going to fight to the death, I hope, not even for my brother and sister, not even for the glory of House Lannister, which is a bitter joke,” Tyrion insisted.

“And what of the docks, milord? Should we not secure them, in case some of the Lannisters seek to escape justice or return to the Westerlands? I do not believe that we wish to let them out of their trap, do we?” Yara proposed, making Dany in particular grin.

“Yes, I must agree, if for no other reasons than these. First, we will need any survivors to fight the Night King. That’s the larger reason and I would rather limit the amount of recruiting that we must do. The other reason, of course, is that Lannister men on the loose are apt to become brigands. They could even choose to flock to the Mountain’s banners, should he choose to stage a rebellion of his own. We dare not risk it for either reason,” Jon concurred.

“Then it will be my honor to secure the docks, Your Grace. And if Your Grace should ever need a salt wife, look no further than me, but only after the battle. I offer only because a Stark, Targaryen, and Greyjoy, all in one womb, would truly make for a powerful Kraken. No Greyjoy ruler has ever been a salt wife, but none has ever been a woman, either. Nor has any ever served a King such as you,” Yara Greyjoy, now known as Yara the Bottomless, led her party of Ironborn out of Maegor’s Holdfast to seek out the docks.

“The city has all but fallen, Your Graces. Everywhere, Lannister men are being seized or slaughtered by my Gold Cloaks, in every alley, corner, slum, gutter, tavern, brothel, inn, and sept. I regret having to report this in the presence of my good friend here, the Imp, as he is of Lannister stock himself, but it is what it is. They had probably even numbers to us, at first, but we have them ambushed and surprised. They didn’t see this coming at all. One thing is true. We’ll need some new Gold Cloaks when this is all said and done, to replace the ones who are dying now,” Ser Bronn of the Blackwater informed Jon, Dany, and Tyrion now.

“Take any alive that you can, Ser Bronn,” Jon instructed the Lord Commander, “especially with the battle this close to finished. Any that you can’t, burn them as swiftly as you can. We do not bury anymore. We burn the dead. All of the dead, soldier and merchant, tradesman and septon, alike. All get burned. All corpses. That’s a new law.”

“On pain of death, Your Grace?” Ser Bronn asked Jon.

“Yes,” Tyrion spoke for the King.

The Imp looked at Jon as he nodded.

“Death by fire?” Dany urged Jon.

The King grimaced, but nodded to that as well.

“It’s gruesome and I’ve never liked it, but we can’t leave corpses. Any corpses at all. This scares people right and proper into burning their dead. It also ensures that one way or the other, they are burned these days. Burning the dead doesn’t just help us with dirt and disease, but it prevents the Night King from raising them up. We do not know how far his reach can grasp. From now on, all corpses must be burnt as swiftly and efficiently as possible. People can still recite eulogies, but let them do so over ashes. This is the law of the realm, on pain of death by fire.”

Jon Snow looked very unhappy as he pronounced this very harsh new edict, but he knew that it had to be done.

“Very well, m’lord. It’s a very strange feeling, retaking the city as Lord Commander. Last time, I defended it. I don’t mind tellin’ ya, though, that I’m rather happier on the same side as that dragon of yours, Your Grace. I was on the Goldroad. I shot at that very dragon, for which I ask humble pardon. I’ve seen what it can do,” Ser Bronn told Dany with a bow to both Jon and she as he left.

“He shot Drogon? So be it. I wouldn’t advise him to get close to Drogon, or any of my dragons, but short of that, he’s far too useful and helpful to burn him alive. That is what I would have done if I’d captured him just after that. It’s odd how that works. One moment, he’s the enemy and a marked man. Now he’s leading a mutiny of Gold Cloaks to succor us,” Dany remarked with astonishment.

“He’s a good soldier, but a sellsword at heart, if an honest one. I promised to beat all other prices in order to survive and I have. He gets Castamere, with your permission. The man’s always wanted a castle, and Castamere is in the Westerlands, if in ruins. It is presumably in my gift, as I would assume that I will fall heir to Casterly Rock soon enough. Now, that will make my father spin in his grave. Which reminds me, we’re going to have to dig up all of the graves, aren’t we. We must burn every corpse that we can find in King’s Landing and elsewhere in Westeros. That’s not going to be popular, I assure you. Then again, nor would the Night King be,” Tyrion shook his head as he poured himself some wine.

“Indeed and this means telling everyone the full truth about the Night King, so as to make them grasp the deadly urgency of this matter. That will not be popular, either. I’d rather they complain, especially when they’re too tired to rebel, than that they perish and turn wight on us,” Jon agreed.

He then pulled Dany closer to his shoulders and caressing her long, white-blonde hair.

“Excuse me, if you will,” Tyrion coughed.

Then he departed for another part of the holdfast, not being eager to witness Jon and Dany coupling again. He had some writing to do ... for a raven meant for Winterfell

“I’m afraid that I must dash as well, Your Graces,” Lord Varys made his exit, too, seeking out his old chambers.

“Dear Lady Sansa Stark,

I know that this message might find you surprised to hear from me personally, but I must tell you now that King’s Landing is within our grasp. We need only squeeze a little harder and the vise will crush our foes. You’ll be happy to know that once things are in good order, we shall march north against the Night King and muster the full strength of Westeros against him. On a personal note, however, might I propose that you entertain the notion of remarriage, you and I? We were not that bad of a couple, despite the lack of consummation. I would note had we done so, Ramsay Bolton could not have lawfully made you his wife. It is a thought, at least, in case you are so inclined.

With affection,
Tyrion Lannister.”