Frozen Flames: The Saga of the Ice Dragon (Completed)

The Lords and Ladies of the Seven Kingdoms crowded the Throne Room, standing shoulder to shoulder, crowding in the tight spaces as they tried to push to the front. The banners of House Targaryen hung from the rafters, a shaft of sunlight falling through the windows behind the Iron Throne. The hall smelled of ale and sweat, and a persistent chatter hung in the air. From atop the Iron Throne, Jae dearly hoped that most sessions of Court would not be like this.

The seat seemed comfortable enough, contrary to Jae's expectations and the history books, but the looks people aimed his way were another matter. Curious and calculating, they drove home the idea that none stood above the King but the Gods. Because there was no authority to defer to anymore. No other individual whose mistakes he might have to correct or whose wise choices he might support. Only him. Only his alliance with the Tyrells, his friendship with Orys Baratheon, and his familial ties to the Starks held the country together – nothing more.

Because he'd studied politics extensively growing up, he'd grown to consider such alliances as ironclad, as powerful as any army. But now that his reign and his life depended on them, the matter looked quite different – these alliances seemed flimsy and unreliable, as though anyone bold enough to try could tare them to pieces. He gripped Blackfyre, the naked blade pointed at the ground, the tip resting on the metal of the Throne. The only solace Jae found was in the knowledge that the majority of nobles had the same perspective as he once did.

Jae's eyes fell on the trail of blood that led out of the Throne Room through the side door. The executions had already begun, with some minor Lords and knights accused of particularly heinous crimes triggering the day's horrors. Joffrey Lannister had been the last to die – the boy had gone to his grave crying and blubbering, begging for mercy even as he made threats. Let's hope the rest will die properly.

Jae looked to the Steward and the man nodded. The doors opened again and two Goldcloaks led Tywin Lannister into the room. Wearing dirty rags and dirty from neck to toe, the Old Lion still carried himself with dignity, and the effect showed in the reaction of the crowd – they hissed at the people who'd come before, but the Old Lion's reputation made them hold back, as though he might still somehow escape his fate and make them pay for their insolence.

Tywin had his hands chained behind his back, each of the Goldcloaks holding on to one elbow, and they led him before Jae.

Lord Orys stepped forth from his place to the right of the Iron Throne. "Tywin Lannister. You have broken the laws of Gods and men by seeking to overthrow your rightful King and place the Pretender upon the Throne. You are hereby sentenced to death. Do you have any last words?"

There was no point in leveling accusations when the man's actions had been so plain to all the Kingdoms, which is why Jae had demanded they proceed straight to sentencing.

The Old Lion did not even glance Orys' way but kept his eyes firmly on Jae. "You rule these kingdoms, and you rule them well," Tywin said.

Jae merely stared at him and kept his silence. He thought it might be more meaningful that way. With a slight gesture, he signaled to the guards and they grabbed Tywin again and dragged him to the block. The Old Lion did not make a sound or an expression that might reveal his thoughts. Stoic and dignified, he remained that way until the sword cleaved through his neck and his head rolled across the floor. The second the nobles confirmed the death of the Old Lion with their own eyes, they began to curse and jeer, as though now was the time to show their loyalty.

The Goldcloaks quickly dragged away from his body, while another fetched his head and carried it off to be tarred and feathered and placed on a pike. Lord Tyrion came next and he, too, went to his grave with only a simple sentence. "My brother was right about you."

The crowd had no issues with jeering the dwarf of Casterly Rock throughout his journey to the block, but they laughed once his head rolled. Jae kept his silence and wallowed in his disgust for the people who called themselves his loyal bannermen.

Then came the people most had come to see. The Martell brothers had chosen to die together, and they walked into the Throne Room together. Doran had grey hair and a pointed beard, his eyes sunken. His skin was grey and sickly, and he leaned on Oberyn to help him walk. The Red Viper himself seemed to have aged a decade since his capture, his left arm still in a sling from the wound Ser Arthur gave him.

This time the crowd exploded in curses and Jae had had enough. "Silence!" he hissed and his voice, with all his rage behind it, cut through the noise and snatched the voices of the nobles in the room. Instantly the Throne Room fell into absolute silence to the point where only the footsteps of the two Princes of Dorne were heard, along with Doran's labored breathing.

When they came to stand before the Iron Throne, Orys went to speak again, but Jae raised a hand. The Lord Hand bowed his head and stepped back. "Do you two have anything to say?"

The brothers exchanged a look, one full of mutual understand and love, one Jae had never expected from the two men who, more than anyone else, had set in motion the events that led to the war.

"None, Your Grace," Doran said in a raspy voice. "When it comes to forgiveness—" he looked to his brother with a sad smile "—we shall ask the Gods for that."

"Your son will stay in King's Landing as the Crown's hostage. Princess Arianne will return to Sunspear to assume her position. Mayhaps through her, House Martell shall begin to regain the honor you have so recklessly squandered."

Doran bowed his head. "Such are my prayers, Your Grace. I can only thank you for giving her the chance."

Jae refused to show any sympathy or understanding, not in front of the people watching him. He flicked his fingers and the guards dragged Doran and Oberyn to the stomp. Doran seemed to go willingly, but Oberyn kept his eyes on Jae. "You fulfill your potential, you hear, Dragon? You fulfill your potential!"

Then Oberyn pushed his brother away, saying, "I'm sorry, but I can't bear to watch you die." The Goldcloaks obliged him and forced the Red Viper to his knees first. In one swift motion, the headsman took his head, and when Doran's turn came, the Prince of Dorne knelt to take his brother's spot with tears running down his cheeks.

When it was done, none celebrated or hissed. Some nodded in approval and others hugged their loved ones, but the rest kept their eyes on Jae, undecipherable looks on their eyes. Jae looked to his Kingsguard, wondering how many people they could slay before they inevitably fell.

Jae found the Starks standing at the front of the crowd. His uncle seemed to be the only person present who looked at him in approval, and Jae tried to take some comfort in that. If that rigid man approved, Jae must've done something right. Though not necessarily from a political perspective.

Jae steeled himself and the crowd seemed to perceive the gravity of the situation from his manner and came to the correct conclusion. Jae gave the signal, and Aegon the Pretender was marched through the door. This time the shouts erupted and Jae doubted any word or gesture on his part could put an end to the noise. The Throne Room turned into an angry beehive and even Aegon seemed to need a moment to get ahold of himself.

Jae watched the Pretender's eyes and saw them rowing across the faces of the people until they came to an abrupt stop. There we go. Myrcella stood in the front row, directly opposite the door through which Aegon entered to ensure she would be in his line of sight. Looking as lovely as ever, tears streamed down her cheeks freely – Jae suspected witnessing the death of her grandfather and her uncle might've had something to do with it, but she used her sadness well. The artificial belly she'd created with her handmaidens stood out in her dress, and she gently caressed her bump, glancing between it and Aegon.

The Pretender, for his part, seemed to barely believe his eyes, and he quickly narrowed them in suspicion and looked at the King. But Jae kept his mask in place and waited for Aegon to be forced to his knees before the Iron Throne.

"Aegon the Pretender," he said in a grave voice, and the hall fell silent. "Your crimes are beyond count. Your fate is sealed. There is only one question left to answer."

"My confession," Aegon said in a clear voice. Jae had ensured he'd been given some water and food before the trial, and now he wondered if that might've been a mistake. The same traces of hatred could be found on his face and Jae's gambit immediately looked doomed. "You want to know if I led my men to their death, knowing they fought for a Pretender? You want to know if the men who'd so gloriously thrashed Lord Royce at Maidenpool were actually traitors?"

Jae frowned. The hatred was there, but it didn't seem to be aimed at him.

"You want to know the answer, oh great Ice Dragon?" Aegon shouted. "Yes! Yes, I say!"

The nobles erupted in indignation and the Goldcloaks in the room had to hold some of them back to keep them from slaying Aegon on the spot. From his place on his knees, Aegon strained his neck, looking over his shoulder as he laughed. "And I loved it! Watching all those poor fools die for a lie was the sweetest sight I had ever seen!"

He's truly gone wild. Jae needed to see no more – Aegon had done what Jae had asked him. Even if he'd only managed to re-direct his hatred, it still served Jae's purpose just fine. "That's enough." He gestured to the Goldcloaks and they dragged him off to the block.

Aegon stopped shouting and settled into a demented grin as they bent him over and kept his neck on the block by twisting his arms. He did not look to the side when the headsman approached, and he did not close his eyes when the sword rose. The sword cut through the air, followed by the wet thump of Aegon's had falling to the stone floor.

"The Pretender is dead!" someone from the crowd called up and everyone erupted in wild cheering.

"Long Live the King!"

Jae stood from the Iron Throne, switched his grip on Blackfyre, and raised it into the air.

"The Ice Dragon!"

"The Ice Dragon!"

"The Ice Dragon!"

Jae descended the stairs of the Iron Throne to their chants, nodded to the crowd when he reached the last step and marched out of the Throne Room, his Kingsguard in tow. They went through the side door and even as they walked down the hallway, heading toward Maegor's holdfast, he could hear their shouting which seemed to steadily increase in volume.

Because of this, Jae almost didn't recognize a familiar voice calling out to him, coupled with quick footsteps on the stone floor. Finally, he heard, "Jae!" and turned around to find Daenerys approaching. His Aunt looked as regal as ever in her light red dress, and Jae did not miss that she'd had a diamond tiara fashioned for herself to symbolize her position as a Princess of the Blood.

"Dany." He gestured for her to accompany him.

She fell into step with him. "I've heard rumors that you are lobbying for a marriage between Lord Orys and Lady Sansa." She looked up at him, mischief playing all over her face.

"I am. Is there a problem?" Jae asked, paying close attention.

"No, none at all." She seemed to be skipping beside him. Then she grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into an empty chamber, telling the Kingsguard, "He'll be right back."

Jae watched her as she slammed the door, frowning. "Dany, what're you doing?"

"I knew you wouldn't stick to your decision," she said with a breathless smile and attacked him, her lips kissing him with a desperate urgency.

Jae meant to push her away, but she broke off the kiss first. "Or would you still like to give me up, huh?" She pushed him back until he fell back into a chair. Dany immediately straddled him. "Give me to Orys, maybe?" she whispered, their noses almost touching as she teased another kiss. "Let him have me in any way he likes? Hmm? Watch it happen, day after day, until I carry his children?"

They kissed again, and this time it was Jae who'd initiated it and Jae who held her to him as though she might slip through his fingers if he let up his grip.

"That's why I thought," Dany said with a wicked smile, reaching down to his crotch. "Now, I think I should have another chance to welcome you home properly."

Fifteen minutes later, Jae sat on that same chair, buttoning his doublet while Dany stood in front of a vanity, trying to make her hair presentable. "You'll be my paramour."

"I know," she replied, keeping her eyes on her distorted image. Then she looked over her shoulder. "I never wanted anything more than you, Jae. I didn't care about the terms."

Jae stood and approached her from behind. "Then you shall have me, darling. Forever." He kissed the side of her neck, then rested his chin on her shoulder and smiled.

"I love you, Jae."

"I love you too, Dany." He gave her another kiss and said, "Now, if you'll excuse me, there's something I have to do."

He walked out of the chambers, purposely avoiding the eyes of his Kingsguard, and marched on toward his original destination. They walked over the drawbridge and into Maegor's Holdfast. His feet took him up the stairs, to the second floor, and down the hallway. The Holdfast was mostly deserted, the only sounds coming from the jingling armor of the White Knights.

"Stay here," he told them when he came to a stop before a door.

He received mute nods and made to go through the door, but stopped himself. He knocked instead.

"Come in."

Jae turned the knob and stepped into Arianne's chambers. She sat on a windowsill, looking out over King's Landing, the tracks her tears left behind staining her cheeks.

Jae closed the door behind him and stood in place, not knowing what to say.

"Is it done, then?"

"It is." He stepped closer but still did not know what to do.

"I suppose that's a small relief." Arianne caught the inquiring look on his face and gave a bitter smile. "I've been waiting for this day for years."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No, Your Grace, nothing." She looked back out the window. "When do I leave for Sunspear?"

"Within the fortnight. You must attend my coronation and swear the oaths."

"And when's that?"

"In a sennight."

"Then I shall leave the day after." She looked back at him and stepped off the windowsill. "With your permission, of course."

"You have it." Jae stood stiff. It seemed inappropriate to approach her, but disrespectful to sit down, so he could do nothing but stay in place.

Arianne did not share his unease. She glided around the table, though the smile he'd grown accustomed to did not grace her lips. "Will I ever see you again?"

"I imagine so." Jae took a step back and that halted her approach. "But it will be a few years."

"And our child? Will the child ever see you?" This time there was an edge in her tone.

Jae looked her right in the eye. "If you will allow the kid to visit the capital. I would even foster our kid if you allowed it."

Arianne's shoulders seemed to ease. "That is good to hear. And, yes, of course, I will allow it."

An awkward moment passed between the two, and Jae decided to put an end to the matter. He approached Arianne and took her hand. He kissed it and couldn't help but notice that familiar smell of lavender. He looked up at her. "I wish you every happiness, Princess."

Arianne looked over her shoulder, through the window, one last time, then back to Jae and smiled. "And you, Your Grace."

Jae stood in front of the vanity he'd had brought to the Sept of Baelor, dressed in full Royal regalia – a golden crown, the spikes fashioned in the shape of flames with rubies at the tips. He had his black cloak, the three red dragons of House Targaryen splayed across his back, and ermine fur covered his shoulders. In one hand he held a scepter, in the other a golden globe, and the ruby pommel of Blackfyre kept poking past the flap of his cloak as he moved.

"How do I look?" he asked.

Dany sat to the right of the vanity, a golden goblet in her hand, her legs crossed. "Like a King."

Jae adjusted the ermine fur. "That's a good answer."

"I know," Dany sang and sipped her wine.

The door opened and Margaery stepped into the room. She looked him up and down, then rushed to his side. "Oh, you look majestic, Your Grace."

"Thank you, Margaery," Jae said. "Where's the rest of the party?"

"They are coming."

That's when the door opened again and Lord Stark stepped through, followed by Lord Orys and Lord Tarly, Robb Stark, and Willas Tyrell, all wearing their best. Jae's coronation in the Sept of Baelor had concluded an hour earlier and now came the final step before the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms swore their loyalty to him in the Red Keep. Jae wanted to present himself before the people of King's Landing, wanted them to lay their eyes on him and his dragons, and the Lords and Ladies who would rule over them alongside him for the foreseeable future.

"Are we ready?"

The members of the group exchanged looks. "We are, Your Grace," Lord Stark said and Jae thought he might've detected a hint of pride in the stern man.

"Let us go, then." Jae led them out of the chamber and into the main floor of the Sept. The Seven looked down on him as he ascended the stairs. The Goldcloaks positioned by the door stepped forward and opened them – a thin shaft of light fell on Jae's face and slowly widened to take in his entire group.

Jae walked through the doorway and came onto the landing at the top of the stairs. His White Swords held the line on the stairs, separating the nobles who'd been invited to the ceremony but didn't warrant an invitation to join Jae at the top. Beyond the nobles, the dirty and ecstatic faces of the smallfolk filled every inch of the street leading to the Sept of Baelor. Some hung from the windows, waving small banners of House Targaryen that Jae had distributed through the city, while a few had climbed the statue of Baelor the Blessed in the middle of the square, sitting on his outstretched arm and waving to Jae.

The pitch of screaming rose to an unbearable level when the people spotted Jae. He took one last step, standing right at the edge of the landing, and spread his arms. He closed his eyes, could almost feel the power envelop him like fire, and thought of Vermithor and Meleys.

Twin shrieks came from the sky and the crowd went ooh and aah as the two shapes dived then spread their wings and landed before Jae. Then the crowd exploded all over again, errant chants erupting here and there only to be drowned out by others.

Jae looked over his shoulder at the people behind him. With his head, he motioned for them to join, amused at the looks on their faces. He waved to the crowd, but he addressed the most powerful men and women in the Realm.

"It is we who shall rule," Jae said and their heads turned to him, some showing surprise. "This is our generation, and these are our people. When, in the future, you make decisions, I want you to remember this moment. I want you to remember how the future laid open for us because history is sure to remember what we did with our lives."

Lord Stark was the first to voice his agreement. "Aye, Your Grace."

"Indeed," Lord Orys chimed in. "Well said, Your Grace."

Margaery grabbed his arm and pressed close to him. "We shall make you proud, Your Grace."

She smiled up at him and Jae felt a swell of affection for his wife and felt hope that somehow, in spite of his vices, things might still work out for the best.

"Then let us go to the Red Keep. I believe there are some oaths of loyalty I have to accept." He looked at them with a wry smile. "Hopefully it will go better than last time."

THE END