299 AC - Kings Landing - Third Person POV
The evening after Aemon Targaryen's coronation, the Red Keep's solar glowed with the warmth of a crackling fire. Aemon sat with Domonic, Daenerys, and Missandei, their faces relaxed yet marked by the weight of their victories. Ghost sprawled by the hearth, his red eyes half-closed, while goblets of Arbor red clinked in a quiet toast. The Iron Throne's shadow loomed in their minds, but for now, kinship held sway.
Daenerys, her silver hair catching the firelight, leaned forward, her voice earnest. "Aemon, come with us to Uruk. My dragons—Morgul, Rhaegal, Tyraxes—are growing strong. Claim one as your birthright. A Targaryen king needs a dragon."
Aemon's grey eyes softened, a smile tugging at his lips. "I'd love to, but they're still young, aren't they? I'll come when they're big enough to cross the Narrow Sea."
Domonic, lounging in his chair, grinned, his golden armor glinting. "Or I could just apparate them here. Save you the trip."
Aemon raised an eyebrow, his tone half-joking. "Apparate a dragon? What if they get irritated and start breathing fire all over Red Keep?"
Domonic waved a hand, his voice brimming with confidence. "Pfft, I'll knock 'em out first. No fuss, no flames. Wait a minute." Before anyone could protest, he stood, he vanished with a faint *pop*.
Daenerys shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. "He's incorrigible."
Missandei, her emerald silks rustling, chuckled. "He loves the theatrics. Give him a moment, and you'll have your dragon."
A minute later, the air shimmered, and Domonic reappeared, a massive, unconscious dragon which is a size of horse sprawled at his feet. Rhaegal's green scales gleamed, his wings folded, a faint snore rumbling from his jaws. Daenerys and Missandei exchanged amused glances, shaking their heads.
"Really, Domonic?" Daenerys said, her tone mock-scolding. "You couldn't wait for a proper bonding?"
Missandei's smile was warm. "He's showing off, Dany. Let him have his moment."
Domonic grinned, unrepentant. "What? Rhaegal's fine, just napping. Thought Aemon would like the green one—matches his gloomy vibe."
Aemon approached the dragon, his eyes wide with awe. "He's magnificent. You're mad, Domonic, but thank you."
As Rhaegal stirred, his golden eyes opening, Aemon knelt beside him, placing a hand on his scales. The dragon snorted, sniffing, then nudged Aemon's shoulder, a bond forming in the quiet moment. Aemon's voice was soft. "Rhaegal, my friend. We'll fly together soon."
Daenerys clapped, her voice warm. "A true Targaryen bond. He's yours now, Aemon."
Missandei nodded, her tone gentle. "Rhaegal will serve you well, Aemon. A king with ice, fire, and a dragon is a sight to behold."
Domonic stretched, yawning. "Well, that's my good deed done. We should head back to Uruk—still got some loose ends to tie up. But we'll visit when we're free."
Aemon rose, clasping Domonic's hand. "You're always welcome, Dom. Safe travels, and thank you—for everything."
Daenerys hugged Aemon tightly. "Rule well, nephew. We'll return soon."
Missandei embraced him, her voice soft. "May your reign bring peace, Aemon."
With a final wave, Domonic, Daenerys, and Missandei apparated away, leaving Aemon with Rhaegal and Ghost, his heart full and his mind turning to the challenges ahead.
---
The next morning, Aemon convened his lords in the Red Keep's great hall, the Iron Throne a silent witness. Eddard Stark, Robb Stark, Edmure Tully, Oberyn Martell, and northern and river lords gathered, maps of Westeros spread before them. The air was heavy with the question of Stannis Baratheon, the remaining lord gathering his forces at Storm's End.
Eddard spoke first, his voice measured. "Stannis is a stubborn man, Your Grace. He's mustering storm lords—perhaps ten thousand men. His fleet's broken, but he'll march soon."
Robb nodded, his hand on his sword hilt. "Storm's End's a tough nut to crack. We can't let him fester there."
Oberyn Martell leaned back, his spear propped beside him, his grin sharp. "Let me take my spears south, Your Grace. I'll skewer Stannis and his red witch before they move."
Greatjon Umber roared, his fist slamming the table. "I say we march now! Twenty thousand should crush his rabble!"
Rickard Karstark, his voice gruff, added, "Stannis's no large army to be a thorn. End him quick, Your Grace."
Roose Bolton's pale eyes gleamed, his whisper soft. "A swift strike is wise, but beware Melisandre. Her sorcery is not to be underestimated."
Aemon, clad in black armor, stood, his voice firm. "We settle this now. A host of twenty thousand will march to Storm's End and bring the storm lands under control. I, along with Robb, Prince Oberyn, and Great Jon Umber, will do."
Robb nodded, his face fierce. "I'll see it done, brother."
Oberyn's grin widened. "A hunt for a stag? My kind of war."
Greatjon bellowed, "We'll bring Stannis's head, Your Grace!"
Aemon raised a hand, silencing the cheers. "Stannis is no fool, and his priestess has power. End this rebellion, and Westeros is ours."
---
Across the Narrow Sea, in the waters off Uruk, Euron Greyjoy's fleet of two hundred ships sliced through the waves, their ironborn crews chanting of plunder. Euron, his eye wild, stood on the *Silence*'s deck, his voice a madman's hymn. "I wield the power of death! Uruk's treasures are mine! The Cold God crowns me!"
His men roared, axes raised. "Euron! King!" A reaver, grinning, said, "Their gold'll sink our ships, Captain!" Another, his face scarred, muttered, "He talks of death like a god…"
In Uruk's Egalmah palace, Domonic received the news, his brow furrowing. "Euron Greyjoy? Rambling about death power? Sounds like trouble." He turned to Daenerys and Missandei, his voice grim. "I'll handle this. Stay here."
Daenerys's eyes blazed. "Not a chance, Domonic. My flames are ready for these ironborn."
Missandei's voice was calm but firm. "My trees will bind their ships. We go together."
Domonic sighed, grinning. "Fine, you two win. Let's crush this madman."
Domonic apparated to the coast, Daenerys and Missandei at his side. The ironborn fleet loomed, but Domonic raised his Elder Wand, the sea floor to raise jagged rocks. Ships splintered, men screaming as they sank. "What in the Drowned God's name?!" a captain roared.
Daenerys unleashed her Mera Mera no Mi, fireballs incinerating sails. "Burn, reavers!" she shouted, her flames a dragon's roar. An ironborn, ablaze, wailed, "She's a witch!"
Missandei summoned a forest from the shore, vines snaring ships. "The sea bows to Uruk!" she called, her Tsunade strength hurling boulders. A reaver, entangled, gasped, "Trees… alive?"
Domonic, wielding Gol D. Roger's Haki, sensed Euron and apparated to the *Silence*. Euron, laughing, drew a blade. "Death's mine, boy!" Domonic's fist knocked him out, his earthbending crushing the deck. Euron's last words were a gurgle as Domonic's wand ended him.
The fleet was annihilated, two hundred ships reduced to wreckage. Domonic, standing on the shore, frowned. "Power of death… only one being grants that. The Night King."
Then after the battle Dominic explainedto them the situation beyond the wall. At first, they didn't believe, but at last Dominic convinced them.
Daenerys's face hardened. "If it is true, then we can't let them rise."
Missandei nodded, her voice steady. "If the Night King's stirring, we end him now."
Domonic's eyes narrowed. "We settle Uruk's affairs for a few days, then head north. To the Wall."
After arranging their rule, the trio apparated to the vicinity of Castle Black, the Wall's icy bulk looming. They entered, greeted by Maester Aemon Targaryen, his blind eyes kind. "Daenerys? Is that you?" he asked, his voice trembling.
Daenerys knelt, taking his hands. "Grand Uncle Aemon, it's me. I've returned, with allies."
Aemon's smile was frail. "A Targaryen at the Wall… and another king, they say, in King's Landing. Tell me, child."
Daenerys recounted Aemon's conquest, her voice warm. "Your great-nephew sits the Iron Throne, Uncle. He wields ice and fire, a true dragon."
Aemon's voice was soft. "Rhaegar's son… the gods are kind. "
Then Daenerys said, her tone proud. "We've broken slavers and kings. Now, we face a greater threat."
Domonic stepped forward, his voice respectful. "Maester Aemon, where are the Night's Watch?"
Aemon's face grew grave. "Most are beyond the Wall, on a great ranging. Lord Commander Mormont leads them. Strange tidings come from the north—wildlings fleeing, shadows moving."
Missandei's eyes sharpened. "The Night King's work. We'll find him."
Maester Aemon startled ask them about it, they tell him all the details of the Night King. After telling the whole story.
Domonic nodded. "Maester Aemon. We go north of the wall."
Missandei, using Emma Frost's telepathy, compelled the gate guards to obey, their minds bending to her will. "Open it," she said, and the gate groaned upward. A guard, dazed, did as he was told.
The trio stepped into the snow, the Wall at their backs, the Haunted Forest ahead. Domonic's Haki scanned the cold, his voice low. "The Night King's out there. Let's end him."
Daenerys's flames flickered in her hands, her voice fierce. "For Westeros."
Missandei's vines stirred beneath the snow, her tone resolute. "For life."
They moved north, the cold biting, but their powers burned bright, ready to face the shadow that stirred beyond the Wall.