And then, she came back.

Saera had finished her audience for the day early, the amount of concerned Meereenese decreasing steadily as their changes continued to be implemented. She had intended to go out for a ride on Viserion when she noticed he was agitated, circling the Great Pyramid as if he expected something to happen.

"Skoros iksis ziry, byka mēre?" she called up, furrowing her eyebrows as she leaned over the edge of the highest balcony. Was he alerting her to some sort of disturbance? Did he sense something was about to happen? (T: What is it, little one?)

Viserion let out a grunt, chirping and refusing to land. He kept tilting his head to the north, and at first Saera saw nothing. Then, when she squinted, she could perceive a dot in the clouds, steadily growing larger. It grew in size until a shape became apparent: a massive black figure approaching— a Winged Shadow.

Drogon was approaching at full speed. Rhaegal and Viserion were waiting eagerly, trilling in excitement as they sensed their brother and mother drawing near.

"Alert Missandei, Grey Worm, and Lord Tyrion!" she told Black Fist from his post behind her. "Have the city their Queen has returned."

As the people below began to shout and point at Drogon, Saera whistled for Viserion to land beside her. He didn't want to, but he listened. Rhaegal continued to fly overhead, calling out to Drogon and encouraging him to drop down beside them. He was just a little bigger than the other two, the advantage of never being locked in the catacombs. And on his back was a perfectly unharmed Daenerys.

The Winged Shadow landed at the edge of the balcony, roaring in Saera's face and demanding she step aside before he shrugged his shoulders to let Daenerys slide off.

There was a moment when the two sisters just stared at each other, unsure what to do. Saera thought Daenerys might not be alive anymore and Daenerys knew what she could expect to find when Daario and Jorah arrived without Saera.

She would have blown a fuse if she showed up on foot and found Saera sitting on the throne. Instead, she saw her sister in her usual armor, looking just as she'd left her.

"You're alive," said Saera in disbelief, approaching slowly. When Daenerys did not recoil, Saera reached out and held her shoulders, then her face, examining her for injuries. She smelled of dragon and was unharmed. "You're alright."

Daenerys nodded, an odd flutter of relief in her stomach. Despite everything, she felt safe with Saera's presence. She was glad to return and find her sister was still there, waiting for her. "I am."

Saera felt a weight lifted off her shoulders. Her sister wasn't dead. She hadn't lost her again. She hadn't failed to protect her. She could finally hand the reins back and have her time with Jorah.

"But– how?!" asked Saera. "It's been months. Where are Daario and Jorah?"

"Daario is leading my Khalasar here," said Daenerys, chest rising and falling heavily as she looked up at the dragons, who were obviously not free when she left. "The Dothraki found me after Drogon landed. I was taken to Vaes Dothrak and was forced to be with the Dosh Khaleen, until Jorah and Daario arrived. The Khals are dead– I burned them all alive. I am theKhaleesi now."

Saera stared at her, expecting more. Her story would come with more details, she was sure. As interesting as the smallest parts of it sounded, she had a burning question ready to fly out, "And what of Jorah?"

Her expression dropped. "Ser Jorah did not come back with us. He could not. When he was bringing Tyrion to Meereen, they passed through Old Valyria. He was infected with greyscale by a Stone Man."

"No," she whispered. "No– no– where– where is he?"

"I've demanded he find a cure and come back," promised Daenerys, pushing Saera's hands away from her shoulders. "He will do as I wish. In the meantime..." she became serious, "What has happened to my city?"

As soon as the Dothraki were settled, Daario joined them in the Small Council chambers for a meeting detailing all the action that had been taken to bring peace to Slaver's Bay. How their policies had been enacted in Astapor, Yunkai, and Meereen. How they'd ensured this spread to smaller cities. How they'd used the master's ships and wealth to give everyone an equal opportunity to return to the land they'd been plucked away from.

It was hard to tell if any of it made Daenerys happy. She remained serious, leaning over the table as she listened to Tyrion and Saera talk. Ever so often she looked at Missandei and Grey Worm as if needing them to corroborate their statements. She wasn't happy to know Varys had popped in while she was gone, but calmed down once Saera explained his mission. Tyrion insisted that he trusted Varys's devotion to her. He wanted what was best for the Realm and Daenerys was that person.

"You ruled in my absence," said Daenerys as everyone was leaving. She had her eyes fixed on Saera, who didn't dare walk away from her.

"I wanted to go and find you," clarified Saera. "I intended to be out there on the hunt. It was Daario and Jorah who insisted I stay."

"I know," said Daenerys. "Daario did not trust Tyrion and Jorah, well..." She knew the answer to that was obvious. "You were Queen in my stead."

"I wasn't. I was the Princess. What I've always been."

"You sat my throne. Did you enjoy it?"

Saera couldn't believe she was asking that. "There were moments when it was nice to be in charge. But I have never lusted for the throne. Never wanted power over people. Only control over my own life."

Daenerys eyed her, perhaps suspicious that she was lying. She'd been a prisoner of the Dothraki while Saera was here, becoming loved by the Meereenese and riding a dragon– her dragon. The exact thing Daenerys never wanted her to do.

Coming out of the fire after burning the Khals did something to her. It reminded her who she was– a dragon. She was The Unburnt. She was the Khaleesi. She bowed to no one and would be dethroned by no one.

All she heard during the meeting were examples of how Saera had fixed things, how Saera had ruled and stabilized Meereen as best as she could in such a short time span. Reports from all over Slaver's Bay showed a significant decrease in slavery– more than what Daenerys had accomplished. Astapor and Yunkai were secure; the same would be said about Meereen once they left.

And Saera had even pitched the idea of renaming Slaver's Bay once they left. To what, she still didn't know.

Her sister had been a good Queen. Her sister had been a better Queen. Everyone saw it even if no one wanted to tell it to her face. She could hear what they thought within, how they wanted Saera, not Daenerys.

Saera, Saera, Saera.

"You may not believe me," said Saera when she saw Daenerys was still tense, "but I mean when I say I only want for us both to be happy and healthy. I don't want anything to do with politics or the throne. If Jorah does find a cure, I want to see what the world has to offer two outcasts. I want to go anywhere. Just the two of us on a little boat. You can keep your dragons and your Iron Throne. I don't want any of it. And I want it even less when I see the way you look at me, as if I'm a weed you must strip out of the garden lest it infect your roses. I was here and I did what I could. Not because I wanted to but because I needed to make sure the city was secure upon your return. I needed to make sure you, as the Queen, still had something to rule over. If you can't see that I did it for you, then you may as well tell me it now. And I will step aside and let you continue on with Tyrion and Varys on your own."

Daenerys's jaw tightened. "You did well, sister. I look forward to exploring the new reality in the morrow. For now, I must get some rest. I am exhausted."

"Of course, Your Grace," said Saera, looking her dead in the eyes as she curtsied.

Some things never changed.

Saera didn't anticipate Daenerys coming back even angrier. But she should have. Nothing could sweeten her sister anymore. All her actions seemed to sour her further and draw them apart.

She thought it a mistake to have ever come to Essos. If she'd stayed hidden in Dorne, she could have prevented Oberyn's death. If she'd stayed in Dorne, she could be happy with her sisters– her real sisters.

The Sand Snakes each had strong personalities but none of them had ever made her feel as worthless as Daenerys.

Despite the fact Daenerys had returned, Saera refused to shut herself up in her room again. She still walked around, letting the children grab hold and lead her to where they played, explaining new games and asking their Mhynda to kick a small ball to them. Sometimes they even threw it at her, to see if she could block every hit with her spear.

Daenerys caught her one day, seated on the floor with thirty children clinging to her and to each other, listening as she sang. Daenerys didn't even know Saera could sing. She figured she must have watched Rhaegar do it hundreds of times. Yet, it was a skill she never mentioned.

A skill the children loved.

She'd decided it was time to do something about Saera on the morning that the Greyjoys arrived. She invited her sister to stand guard with her, the platform in the Great Hall filled once more.

"Last time we saw each other was at Winterfell, yes?" Tyrion asked Theon as he and his sister Yara arrived. "You were making jokes about my height, I seem to recall."

Theon was quiet, much more meek now than he'd been said to be in the past. Of course, Varys had told them all about the time he spent being tortured by Ramsay Bolton, who was recently confirmed to be dead. The Starks had retaken Winterfell.

Tyrion continued (allowed to speak, unlike Saera...), "Everyone who makes a joke about a dwarf's height thinks he's the only person ever to make a joke about a dwarf's height. 'The height of nobility,' 'a man of your stature,' 'someone to look up to.' You're all making the same five or six jokes."

"It was a long time ago," said Theon uncomfortably.

"It was," agreed Tyrion. "And how have things been going for you since then? Not so well, I gather. Can't imagine you would have murdered the Stark boys if things had been going well."

Theon gulped. "I didn't murder the Stark boys. But I did things that were just as bad or worse."

"And he paid for them," said Yara, unamused with Tyrion's line of questioning. All Saera wanted to do in that moment was give Theon a hug; he looked so broken.

Tyrion shrugged. "Doesn't seem like it. He's still alive. It was complicated for you, I'm sure, growing up at Winterfell. Never quite knowing who you were. But then, we all live complicated lives, don't we?"

"Is this really necessary?" Saera spoke up, annoyed. "They are here for an audience with us, not to be questioned."

Yara nodded appreciatively. Daenerys started, "You've brought us a hundred ships from the Iron Fleet with men to sail them. In return, I expect you want me to support your claim to the throne of the Iron Islands?"

"Not my claim," said Theon, noticing how Saera side-eyed Daenerys, having already explained this to her. She clearly didn't trust her information, most likely because it came from Varys. But partially because it was Saera, and Saera was a problem. "Hers."

"And what's wrong with you?" asked Daenerys.

"I'm not fit to rule," he admitted.

"We can agree upon that, at least," said Tyrion under his breath.

Saera side-eyed him, too. "The Iron Islands has never had a queen," she said, despite Daenerys's warning look. "This is refreshing."

"Indeed," said Yara. "Neither has Westeros."

"Our Uncle Euron returned home after a long absence," explained Theon. "He murdered our father and took the Salt Throne from Yara. He would have murdered us if we'd stayed."

"Lord Tyrion tells me your father was a terrible king," said Daenerys.

"You and I have that in common, " said Yara cleverly.

Daenerys raised her brows. "We do. And both murdered by a usurper as well." She turned to Tyrion. "Will their ships be enough?"

"With the former masters' fleet, acquired by Saera, certainly, yes," said Tyrion. "Though, there are more than a hundred ships in the Iron Fleet..."

"There are," said Theon. "And Euron is building more. He's going to offer them to you."

"So why shouldn't I wait for him?" asked Daenerys.

"The Iron Fleet isn't all he's bringing. He also wants to give you..." he faltered.

"His big cock, I think he said," Yara finished for him. "Euron's offer is also an offer of marriage, you see. You won't get one without the other."

Daenerys found this amusing. "And I imagine your offer is free of any marriage demands?"

Yara shrugged, "I never demand, but I'm up for anything, really."

Saera decided she admired her.

"He murdered our father and would have murdered us," said Theon. "He'll murder you as soon as you have what he wants."

"The Seven Kingdoms," said Tyrion.

He nodded. "All of them."

"And you don't want the Seven Kingdoms?"

"Your ancestors defeated ours and took the Iron Islands. We ask you to give them back."

"And that's all?"

Yara added, "We'd like you to help us murder an uncle or two who don't think a woman's fit to rule."

Daenerys smirked. "Reasonable."

"What if everyone starts demanding their independence?" posed Tyrion.

"She's not demanding, she's asking," said Daenerys. "The others are free to ask as well."

"How many of them will you give freedom to?" said Saera quietly.

Daenerys tensed, but chose not to respond. "Our fathers were evil men. They left the world worse than they found it. We're not going to do that. We're going to leave the world better than we found it. You will support my claims as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and respect the integrity of the Seven Kingdoms. No more reaving, roving, raiding, or raping."

"That's our way of life," said Yara awkwardly, presumably meaning only the first three and not the last.

"No more," said Daenerys firmly.

The Greyjoys shared a look. "No more," agreed Yara at last, offering her hand. Daenerys took it, shaking it firmly.

-

Saera went to find Theon once she'd ensured all the Greyjoy men had been given suitable accommodations and enough food to replenish them after their long journey.

He was alone in his room, staring out the window at the dark sea, waves barely visible as they lapped over the shore.

"Princess Saera," he said nervously, turning so he could bow to her.

"Prince Theon," she replied. "I remember hearing of your birth, right as the rebellion was coming to an end. Theon, I thought, was an interesting name. I've heard your story and I am here to offer my condolences. Not that condolences will do much. But I still wish to express my sympathy. What you've been through... you didn't deserve that."

"I did," he muttered.

"You didn't," she said clearly. "You did many awful things but not awful enough to merit such treatment. You are safe now, I hope you know that. No harm will come to you here. I only wished to let you know that."

He smiled weakly, walking closer. "Thank you, Princess. Your kind words will not be forgotten."

She reached out carefully, noticing how he flinched initially. He was calm when he realized she wasn't going to hit him. His body tensed as she wrapped her arms around him, holding the back of his head carefully and shushing him as she rocked his body gently, like one would a baby.

He was quiet, resting his chin on her shoulder and probably not knowing what to do. But he needed it, and in a way she did too.

She would have wanted this with Daenerys. Comforting each other. Laughing. Supporting the other no matter how silly their ideas.

Instead it was like she was living in the same home as her enemy.

"Your behavior yesterday was unacceptable," said Daenerys the next morning. "Regarding the freedom of the other kingdoms."

"That's what this is about," said Saera tiredly. "It never ends with you, does it? You always assume the worst of me, that my every action is a slight against you."

"You repeatedly disobey my orders."

"You haven't been around to give orders in months. I am no longer used to being silenced."

"You never were," said Daenerys coldly. "You have disrespected my authority at every step of the way."

"Because you refuse to treat me like your heir. Your sister! The Princess of Dragonstone. You give a greater voice to your Hand than your own blood. Do you know who else gave that much power to their Hand? The first King Viserys. And what did that lead to? A civil war. I am exhausted, Daenerys. This is exhausting. I do think the kingdoms should all have a choice. Is it truly making the world better if we keep them under one ruler, answering to House Targaryen again when that didn't go very well in the past? After everything we've heard from the North, do you really think they're going to bend the knee so easily? Everyone has been through hell since King Robert died. Things cannot go back to the way they were, Daenerys, we have to consider what is best for Westeros and it isn't necessarily unification. We must at the very least entertain the idea instead of demanding they all fold at our demand."

"I cannot be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms if there aren't Seven Kingdoms to run," said Daenerys.

"Maybe there shouldn't be! Each of them benefits in a different way from being united, some less than others. We must offer them a choice. Most, I'm sure, will still remain in the fold. I know Dorne will, because Ellaria will keep her promise to support us. Perhaps the Reach–"

Daenerys interrupted, "Support you. Ellaria Sand supports you, not me."

"She supports you because she supports me," said Saera in a clipped tone. "I have guaranteed you a powerful ally. Most people say thank you. I don't need to be here, Daenerys. You have shown me I am not valued here. So why am I? You keep me close despite how much you despise my presence. Daario told me yesterday that he thinks it would be a good idea for the Second Sons to hit Casterly Rock from the west coast to snatch away the Lannister's home and leave them nowhere to go when you come from the east. Send me with him. Away from you. Because you clearly do not want me here. You haven't wanted me for a while."

"Yet you are here," said Daenerys. "You are my blood."

"You don't treat me like I am. You are jealous of everything I do."

"You are challenging my claim!" shrieked Daenerys angrily. "From the moment you arrived, you questioned every choice I made."

"I was trying to voice my opinion because I thought I was allowed to at the very least have my own thoughts and give you other options when I believe you are looking through a hole in the wall! Your mind can be so narrow, Daenerys. You refuse to accept anyone else's thoughts if they contradict yours. You are so defensive and paranoid and I never thought we'd end up here. I thought we were past this."

"And yet I returned and found you comfortably on my throne. Loved by the Meereenese, riding a dragon. What would you have done if I never came back?"

"I don't know! But I wouldn't have stayed here. I don't want to be here, Daenerys. The place never mattered, all that mattered was being with you. Supporting you. Yet from the start it has gone downhill and now I have had enough. I've decided– I will not go to Westeros with you. I will stay here. I will work amongst the people making clothes or baskets– whatever I decide– and I will wait for Jorah to return. And if he never does, I will explore the world on my own."

Daenerys's eye twitched. "You will come to Westeros. If you do not, the Dornish will not back me. I need you there."

"To do what, exactly? Marry me off to whatever ally is most convenient for you? Perhaps you will wed me to Euron Greyjoy and fake an alliance so you can take his ships then you'll have me kill him and give Yara the Salt Throne. Perhaps you'll force me to marry Theon, or Jon Snow, or even Robin Arryn. No one is left to run the Stormlands but I'm sure you'll find someone to marry me to if you stand to benefit from it. You certainly don't want me to stay here but you also don't want me to go. I cannot believe I ever wanted to stick by you. You are... a selfish brat. I have wasted my time here. I could have been anywhere else."

"Then why aren't you?!"

"Because I love you!" shrieked Saera. "You are my family and I will always love and protect you. You are my baby sister– the only sibling I have left. I have loved you from the moment I learned our mother was carrying you. Just as I loved Rhaegar and Viserys, who I lost in brutal ways. I didn't want to lose you, too! I tried to stay strong, I tried to muster up all the courage I could to let the love I have for you shine through but I don't feel anything anymore, Daenerys. You are my blood but you are no longer my family– you don't treat me like your sister until it is convenient for you. Only when you need me to marry your allies. I had a family in Dorne, a family I left behind because you were all that mattered to me. I did everything to find you and Viserys and you have held the time it took against me from the moment you found out my story. You have not taken a single moment to consider how much it killed me to be hiding in a crate, terrified and alone, on my way to a land I didn't know, feeling at the age of five-and-ten that it was my fault our mother died, my fault that you and Viserys were gone. I made it my mission to become strong so I would not fail again. I did it for you. But you've done nothing for me. Nothing but judge me and hate me. The strengths I have to protect us, you take as a threat. My words, you see as a slight. You can't send me away but when I try to leave of my own volition, you stop it. So you can use me and get me out of the way..."

She began to breathe heavily, a horrible horrible horrible thought making her way in.

She could take the throne if she wanted to. She could take the master's ships that she seized and she could take whoever the hell wanted to follow her and she could bring Viserion with her. She could snatch up the Dornish's support, she could promise the Starks, Tyrells, Tullys, and Arryns anything they wanted. She'd give it to them. She'd have allies where they mattered. And most of all she'd have a dragon that could burn through armies without needing to spare soldiers.

There were still a few weeks remaining before they could possibly be ready to leave Meereen. They had yet to hear back from Varys about whether his chat with the Dornish and the Tyrells worked out or not.

Saera had time. And in that time, she was going to prepare to meet her goal.

She was going to take the Iron Throne.