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

When they came upon King's Landing a week after the battle, white banners hung off every gate of the city. The sun hung low in the morning sky and the entire city shone in red-yellow light. Thin tendrils of smoke rose into the air from forges on the Street of Steel and it all seemed much quieter than he remembered. The grey walls of the city stood deserted, not a soldier in sight.

They'd passed and taken every holdfast on the way to the city, and riders came in from Bitterbridge reporting that the Lords of the Riverlands and the Crownlands all meant to submit to Jae's rule. The only remaining question was King's Landing and what the Lannisters and the Martells holed up inside the Red Keep meant to do.

"They mean to surrender," Ser Baelor murmured from his side. His words proved prophetic when the King's Gate creaked open and a party of Goldcloaks rode forth to meet them.

"It could be a ploy, Your Grace," Ser Arthur cautioned from behind him. Without waiting for his order, his Kingsguard rode to the front to put their bodies between the King and potential danger.

The Goldcloaks came to a halt some thirty paces away in a cloud of dust. They eyed the Kingsguard and their hands went for their swords. Every man at the head of the column tensed until they drew them and threw them on the ground.

The Kingsguard did not move. "Dismount and approach!" Jaehaerys called.

Their eyes on the twitching white knights, the men got off their horses and approached his party. As one they went down on their knees, but Jae was far from assured. "Search them."

He eased only when his Kingsguard made sure they carried no hidden weapons, did not hold any crossbows behind their backs. He might've won the battles, but Jae had no intention of dying on the brink of winning the war. "Talk."

"Your Grace," one of them said. A young man, he couldn't be much older than Jaehaerys, but twice his size if the broad shoulders and thick arms were anything to go by. He kept his eyes on the ground as he spoke. "We hereby surrender King's Landing to Your Grace's army." The men behind him whispered when they glimpsed the dragons on his shoulders.

"And who might I thank for this warm welcome?"

"The Princess Daenerys, Your Grace. She took command of the city the night we received word of Your Grace's victory at Death's Doorstep. All members of House Lannister are in chains. Those who resisted have been put to death," he said and at last, he looked up.

"I see." Jae nodded. "Ser Baelor?"

"Yes, Your Grace"

"Take five thousand of your men and surround the city. The rats will be fleeing now, and I want you to be a good little fisherman and reel them all in. Focus especially on the walls beneath Aegon's Hill. There are a couple of interesting tunnels there that a clever man might use," Jaehaerys instructed.

Ser Baelor barked a laugh and nodded. "Aye, Your Grace, right away." He spurred his horse and rode down the column.

"Lord Orys, I want you to take ten thousand men. Secure the Red Keep and the path to it. I want every room in the castle searched and if you find a hint of treachery... well, you know what to do. Disarm everyone, even the Goldcloaks. I'll rely on Daenerys to tell me who's innocent and who's not later."

"Aye, Your Grace." And he, too, rode off shouting orders.

"I shall have the men set up camp outside the city walls, Your Grace," Lord Tarly spoke up from behind.

"Go." Jaehaerys nodded, his eyes on the city. He sat there on his horse and watched as Ser Baelor's men raced in every direction and Lord Orys' infantry streamed through the gates. It was a strange feeling, being the most powerful man around. His entire life he had to tread on eggshells around men who wielded the power to ruin all his plans. Now they're all dead or in chains. One word against him and a rogue Lord might find all of Seven Kingdoms descending on him. And dragons, don't forget the dragons.

Vermithor purred on his shoulder and Jae reached up to absent-mindedly stroke his scales. Fear, he realized, it's the lack of fear that I find strange. Fear had made him quite the diplomat. He feared insulting visiting Lords, because he didn't know how they'd respond.

I must make sure to remember that. All the swords and dragons in the world might make him careless in the long run. He had to keep his desperation. I'm King, aye, but if I want to make this a reign to remember, I can't afford to offend a single person. Not one friend can be lost simply on account of arrogance.

And it all began with the trail of prisoners following his army. Oberyn and his pride, the Lannisters and their delusions of grandeur. He had to find a way to get rid of the traitors and keep the loyal men happy, but not throw the kingdoms they ruled into complete disarray.

"Your Grace," Ser Arthur said, pointing to the field left of the road. "They've set up your tent."

And so he went, and so he waited, and hours went by before Lord Orys returned to tell him he secured the prisoners and took command of the city. He'd gotten the chance to bathe and have Lucas polish and clean his armor. He had no crown as of yet, and he refused to touch the one he'd given Aegon though they'd found it in his camp.

The dragons on my shoulders shall have to be my crown. He mounted a fresh black courser covered in a black caparison, dozens of red dragons stitched upon it. They replaced his saddle as well, and the fresh leather creaked when he mounted his horse. Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan took places of honor at his sides, huge Targaryen banners hanging off the staffs they carried. Behind them, the knights of the Reach and the Stormlands carried the banners of Houses Baratheon and Tyrell, along with a number of major Houses from both Kingdoms.

The sun beat down on them from high above and only a single cloud provided some shade as Jaehaerys gave the order to ride. They made a fine procession, he knew. Glittering knights, war heroes all, the banners flapping proudly in the wind and Jaehaerys at the front. His white armor shining in the sun, a black cloak so large hanging off his shoulders it covered the back of his horse as well. Blackfyre hung off his hip, and his dragons perched on his shoulders.

Baratheon and Targaryen men lined both sides of the street as they entered through the King's Gate. The commoners gathered behind the living wall of men and a great cheer went up when Jaehaerys came into view. Children in ragged clothes slipped between the legs of the soldiers to run alongside his horse. Jae drew some gold coins from his pouch and threw them. Old crones and young whores, deckhands and stableboys, soot-stained blacksmiths and silk-covered merchants; they shouted his name, threw flowers in his path, and gasped at the sight of dragons.

Jae looked up to find the windows of the houses that lined the road empty. Orys must've flushed them out, he thought in approval and adopted his best kingly mask. He smiled to the maidens and waved to no one in particular, all the while slowly increasing the pace. He wanted to get to the Red Keep and get back to business.

It took them nearly fifteen minutes to reach it. They rode along the walls at first, past Visenya's Hill and the Street of Steel, until they reached the River Gate, where they took a left toward the center of the city. The Muddy Path lived up to its name and Jae found his first investment. Right after I empty the Westerlands of gold via war reparations. At the end of the Muddy Path, they took a right and the Red Keep came into view. His arm already hurt from the waving, but he meant to endure. They saw him as a conquering hero, the battles he'd won serving as proof of divine favor. He had no intention of squandering their goodwill. His appearance did most of the heavy work, his smile piled on and the gold he threw around so liberally sealed it.

But he wanted to take it one step further. A young boy, no more than six or seven, ran up to his horse. He hoped for gold, no doubt, but instead, Jae reached down, took the boy's hand, and pulled him into the saddle with him. The boy, wide-eyed but as far from terrified as one can get, instinctually wrapped his arms around his neck to keep his balance. Jaehaerys laughed, the crowd exploded in cheers and a glance back found Ser Arthur chuckling as he shook his head in exasperation.

"And what's your name, young man?"

"Josn, Yer Grace," the boy watched him with a breathless smile.

"And what do you want to be when you grow up?"

"A knight, Yer Grace. Ser Duncun the Tall!" he cried happily as they reached the gates of the Red Keep.

"A knight, is it?" Jae looked down at him. "Then you'll have to come find me when you're older, boy." He helped him down from the saddle and pressed a couple of gold coins into his hand. "For the sword and the armor."

The boy nodded frantically, holding the gold coins in his hands with such reverence one would think he'd been handed a priceless gift. Perhaps he has been. He winked at him and rode on, beneath the Traitor's Walk where a great many familiar heads greeted him, and into the outer courtyard.

His eyes found Daenerys first. Standing in front of a crowd of nobles in a silk dress of a deep purple, her silver hair in intricate braids, she seemed to shine. And she'd changed since last he saw her. The girlhood had bled out of her. Her features became just a tiny bit more pronounced, her frame a bit more filled out.

They stood in front of the Small Hall, the Tower of the Hand looming behind them. Baratheon men stood around the courtyard and walked the walls. The number of courtiers standing with Daenerys was much greater than he anticipated. I wonder what she demanded of them in return for my pardon.

They kneeled as one when Jae dismounted and he approached the only person standing. "Your Grace." She curtsied. Tears welled in her eyes, and a thousand emotions spilled over her features as she watched the dragons on his shoulders. "King's Landing is yours."

"Dany," Jae murmured and spread his arms. She threw herself at him and buried her face in his neck, only to gasp when she felt Meleys crawling down her arm to her shoulder. She pulled back and brought a trembling hand to the dragon who immediately leaned into her touch, rubbing her head against her palm.

"I think she likes you."