75 Rulers of all they Surveyed

Tranquility. It was… alien to Daenerys. Not being chased, not being hunted, not having all that stood between her and an executioner's blade was her army and her dragons.

Now, none of that mattered. She was now Empress of all she surveyed.

Even in the dark of night, King's Landing never slept. Hands splayed out on the balcony, Dany leaned on it as she watched the hustle and bustle of the massive metropolis. The celebration had been a going concern since almost right after Joffrey's death, renewed food shipments driving what would likely be a week-long thanksgiving to the Targaryen Restoration.

'My subjects… my people.' They had actually done it. They had won.

Dany sighed as two strong arms wrapped around her waist. "Galleon for your thoughts, my dragon?" Jon whispered, dropping a feather-light kiss to her neck.

Not replying immediately, Dany nevertheless pressed back into his chest. Enjoying his spicy scent - one that would always be her refuge in the storms that chased her existence since her very birth. "We really have won, haven't we?"

Jon kissed her temple, hiding his frown. There still was the Night King, lurking in the north and ready to sweep down in a malevolent quest to extinguish all life - but there was no need to dwell on it at the moment. "Aye, we have." Joffrey was dead, the realm united. Truth be told, unifying Westeros was a coup in the fight for the dawn. He tightened his hold on her. "We won, Dany."

How he whispered her name - in his low northern brogue - it always made Dany shiver. "I just can't believe it, Jon." In the distance, captured Lannister rockets exploded in the air, fired in celebration by the citizens, freed slaves, and Imperial soldiers.

"Believe it." Turning her around, Jon made sure he was staring directly into her amethyst eyes. Eyes he had fallen in love with since that first meeting so many years before in Pentos. She immediately melded into the kiss, the Imperial couple sharing an intimate moment so long postponed. He beamed, allowing himself the joy of the moment. "We avenged our family," Jon finally whispered, foreheads touching. "Now we can set things to rights."

Daenerys kissed him again. "Gods, I love you." He smiled even wider. Dany loved his smiles. She never knew how she survived without him. "I am his, my Emperor."

"And she is mine, my Empress." His hands trailed up and down her sides. "I have some news." A moment of worry crossed her eyes. "No, it's good news. I am now an uncle, and you an aunt."

It took a mere second for Dany to put it together. Her eyes sparkled with joy. "Margaery?"

"She's headed to King's Landing now with Jon Stark, the healthy heir to Winterfell."

"Named his son after you?" Ecstatic for her brother and sister, and for the pack to add its newest member, she couldn't wait for the twins to arrive from Winterfell, where their uncle Rickon was tending them. Dany cupped his cheek - stubble growing once more. "The name you so desired."

He leaned into her palm. "I've gotten used to it, but… it still overwhelms me sometimes." An image of Ned Stark, and then Rhaegar and Lyanna, flashed in his mind. "I am of Rhaegar's seed. I am a Targaryen, but Ned Stark… I still see him as my father. I'm… a Stark too."

"You are a Stark. As much a wolf as a dragon." She pushed onto her tiptoes. "My wolf." The kiss resumed. The tender moment quickly morphed into one of passion, hunger for each other returning after a prolonged absence.

They fought for dominance in the kiss, Jon finding the fiery little dragon pushing him from the balcony into the interior of their chambers. "Dany," he husked, thoughts in a lust-filled haze as Dany broke their kiss and attacked his neck. "I missed this…"

Dany moaned as she soothed the love bite she had left on his shoulder with her tongue. "Fuck, I did too." Her fingers began to yank at the straps of his cuirass. "Take me to bed, now." A tone that left no room for delay. Jon growling and lifting her, hands on her ass, Dany slammed their lips back together.

Servants, delighted at the regime change, had worked up a storm in purging any trace of Joffrey and his madness from the various chambers. His basement inner sanctum was abandoned as a dank hellshole, the Imperial couple instead snagging Cersei's old chamber - which in and of itself was the previous chamber of the King. The Queen had her own titular chamber, but Dany insisted Sansa have it. She would never sleep in a different room than Jon, and knew her Emperor felt the same. Lannister reds and golds had been tossed for Targaryen Black and Red and Stark grey, new sheets, blankets, and furs thrown onto the bed. 'Good,' thought Daenerys just as Jon tossed her onto them.

"Gods." Jon drank in his gorgeous wife. If they had been the smallest of smallfolk, he still would have felt the luckiest man in existence by having such a woman. "I love it when you wear those dresses."

King's Landing still quite warm, Essosi trade winds blowing heat from the continent straight into the capitol, Dany took advantage and wore one of her Meereenese dresses - one that covered her body with nothing else underneath. She blinked innocently at him. "Oh, why is that, your Majesty?" Suddenly he jumped on her, plundering her mouth. They clutched frantically at each other. Hands went for places long since memorized, coaxing out moans and grunts of pleasure they so desperately wanted to hear. Jon's hands flew to her hair, pulling it out of her simple braid till it was wonderfully free.

The Empress took advantage of his preoccupation. Jon soon found himself flat on his back, shimmering silver-blonde locks swaying as she straddled him. "Goddess. You are a goddess." While the Dany he had met in Pentos would have blushed, this Dany smirked saucilly, rolling her hips into his crotch. He gazed up at her, her eyes a stormy violet. Dany finally divested him of his shirt, placing gentle kisses on every inch of his exposed skin.

Feeling his erection harden at her hungry gaze, Dany smirked again and pulled at the hem of her dress. Soon she was completely bare, and such provoked a pure wolfish growl from Jon, Dany yelping as he yanked her down and took a nipple in his mouth. She had no complaint – her moans grew louder, clawing at his pants.

Expecting him to ravish her body, Dany was let down when he climbed off her… only to feel a fresh gush of wetness when he manhandled her to her hands and knees. "Gods, Jon, yes." Her eyes rolled in the back of her skull, sensing Jon's perfect tongue lapping at her from behind. "You are so good at that." He could always perform the Lord's Kiss perfectly, but she wanted more. So much more. "Fuck me, Jon," she commanded, glancing over her shoulder. He looked so delicious, hair let down in flowing curls. "Inside me, now."

Aroused to the point of pain, Jon would be an idiot to refuse. "As you command, your Highness." Grabbing his member, he positioned it below her entrance and thrust upward. He gritted his teeth at the amazing tightness around him. At how she pushed back wantonly to take him all in. He thrust hard, setting a bruising rhythm that Jon knew his dragon could take. They got lost in their pleasure, bedchamber filled with sounds of passion so long absent.

Suddenly, Dany's eyes – now a shade so dark that it was indistinguishable from black – flew open as she shattered around his length. Letting out a half-moan, half-scream, the Empress bucked her hips and undulated her inner walls. Dany buried her head in the pillow, muffling her scream. In the distance, Balerion let out a booming roar that shook the very city. A grunted "Dany" behind her was followed by Jon's climax - and a twin roar from Rhaegal - filling her with his seed. She shook with a mini-orgasm, collapsing from sheer exhaustion onto the bed.

Jon, legs shaking, pulled out - to a sad moan from Dany - and fell beside her. A quick rearrangement found them under the furs, Dany pulled close against his chest. "I almost lost you, Dany," he murmured, holding her tighter.

"You didn't, my love." She replied, snuggling back into him. A certain feeling caused her eyes to widen. "Jon," Dany said excitedly, guiding his hand to her belly. "Feel that."

Peering into the darkness, Jon smiled widely as he recognized it. "Is that our baby?"

"It is." Daenerys was ecstatic that he could now experience it with her. She turned in his arms. "I love you, Jon."

Fatigue overcoming him, he kissed her head and let the comfort her embrace gave overcome him. "Love you too, Dany."

A soft tune left Dany's lips. Spending a spare moment brushing her silky hair, she hummed a Valyrian lullaby, one her brother used to sing to her before the madness gripped him. She loved being at Winterfell. Sharing the same familial warmth that her family had had here all those years ago.

The smile stretched over her face as she felt the wonderful presence of a certain Stark. Dany could sense him out anywhere. A gloved hand, dark grey cloak draping over her, soft lips kissing her head. She stood, his arms pulling her up. "Dany…" he whispered, voice low with desire.

Enjoying the feel of the soft, dark curls of her handsome northerner, Dany turned in his arms. Ready to kiss him. But instead of the loving face of her Jon, staring at her was the frigid glare of a demon. Blue eyes cold as snow, lips set in a malevolent frown, a crown of ice rested atop his head. Fear coursed through her.

The Night King grabbed her wrists, pulling her to him. Immune to fire, Daenerys still screamed as his freezing touch burned into her skin...

Jerking upright, covers falling off, Dany felt drenched with a sheen of sweat. Head swiveling all around the chambers, she could find no sign of the blizzard. No howling winds. No blinding snowfall. Nothing but Jon's shallow breathing as he slept.

"A dream…" she murmured, resting her hand on her breastbone. Calming the tempest within her chest. "Just a nightmare." But a nightmare so vivid. Could they be her future? A sign? A forewarning from the gods?

The baby started to kick up a storm, grounding her in the real world. Her son or daughter wasn't the only Stark to make their presence known. "Dany." Jon's eyes fluttered open, voice groggy with sleep as he looked up at his wife's fair profile in the moonlight. "What's wrong?"

Jon's touch spread vital warmth back into her. "When the time comes, Jon. Kill him." She held him close, burying her face in his neck. "Kill the Night King." His heartbeat soothed her.

Feeling her gentle breathing against his skin, Jon prayed her fear and apprehension would cease. "I promise."

Unsullied guards snapped to attention as Jon and Dany breezed into the small council chamber. The now open blinds shone sunlight upon the Stark and Targaryen Banners hung on the walls, replacing various gaudy decorations depicting Joffrey's 'military prowess.' All in all, in Tyrion's mind, the decor had improved greatly.

Daenerys beamed as she approached the woman sitting across from her seat. "Margaery, dearest sister." The raven-haired woman stood, Dany embracing her. "I am glad you are looking well after childbirth." Her experience did not go as well.

"I am thankful, Daenerys," Margaery replied. "My grandmother says hardiness in childbirth is a hallmark of the family - as are healthy boys."

"Which you now have one of," Jon boasted, grabbing Robb's hand and clasping his back. "Congratulations, Robb. A handsome Stark pup." The Warden of the North returned the brotherly embrace. "Afterwards. I would like to see my nephew."

"Wouldn't try to deny you that right, your Majesty," Margaery replied, bowing. A small smirk danced on her lips, causing all the Starks to laugh. Happy moment passed, and the monarchs taking their seats at the head of the table.

"Good," Tyrion announced. "Now we may begin. The remaining Lannister liege Lords have sworn fealty to House Targaryen..."

However, a raised hand cut him off. "Forgive me, Lord Tyrion, but we are missing one participant." Sansa turned her head to Jon, sitting directly to her left. "He will be here shortly."

Jon's brows furrowed. "Sister, who is left to seat…"

The door opened, Grey Worm entering. He he bowed at Jon. "Your Majesty. A Lord Petyr Baelish has requested entry."

"That is good, Grey Worm," Sansa spoke up. "Let him in."

For those that knew Ser Petyr Baelish, the small smile on his face was his trademark. Woven gambeson of gold-colored silk draped over his slender form, moustache and goatee trimmed to perfection. "Your Majesty, your Highness," he bowed, arms extending with a fawning humility. "Forgive me for my tardiness. Your Unsullied guards are not well-versed in the common tongue."

"It is quite alright, Lord Baelish," Sansa replied. "They are only temporary while we wait for new Kingsguards to be selected."

"I'm sorry," Robb began, speaking up. "What is he doing here?"

"I am inclined to ask the same question, Lady Sansa." Daenerys leaned forward to see her sister. Jon merely kept his mouth shut, content with observing.

Clasping her hands together, Sansa softly inhaled. "I asked Lord Baelish to be here. As Hand to His Majesty, I am exercising my authority to name him to the Small Council."

Tyrion blinked. "Has Davos concurred with this, for you are merely Hand in the North?"

"Ser Davos has been appointed Quartermaster of the Empire," Jon finally replied, having given both Littlefinger and his sister the once over. "Sansa is my Hand for all of my domains, and I trust her judgement. If she feels Lord Baelish should be on the Council, then he will be."

"Are you kidding me?" Arya was incredulous. "This man was one of Joffrey's main allies!" And on her list.

"While secretly feeding me information from their war councils," Sansa retorted, Littlefinger taking his seat across from her. "It was his order that sent the Knights of the Vale to Winterfell, and he who opened the Lion Gate for our armies."

"I must protest, your Majesty," Tyrion said. "It would be wise not to trust Lord Baelish till he has proven himself…"

Quiet till now, Littlefinger leaned forward. "Pardon me, Tyrion. May I ask where your brother, the Kingslayer, resides?"

Tyrion stared at Littlefinger with pursed lips. "He is being held in the dungeon, awaiting determination of his loyalty. Which is where you should…"

"Does a stay in the dungeon normally involve or a feather bed and silk sheets? My late Lady Wife did inform me that even Lannister prisoners aren't accorded such luxuries normally." Tyrion glowered, eyes dark. "See, it seems you have prejudged your brother's loyalty from your own intuition. Why discount Lady Sansa's?"

There was silence. "Tyrion, please proceed," Jon stated, ending it. Questioning eyes were directed at Littlefinger - except for Arya, who narrowed her gaze at Sansa. "Now, about the Long Night."

The absence of General Caryn, most of the Lords, Lady Catelyn, and Quartermaster Davos was acutely felt. Defeating Joffrey, while ending the bloodshed, left the Targaryen Empire bloated and chaotic. Bad roads, bad weather, and an impending refugee crisis, would only hamper the movement of the disorganized Imperial Army to Winterfell. White Harbor would help… some. That, and what to do about the freed slaves of King's Landing, consumed most of the discussion for nearly an hour.

Jon, finally, came to a decision. "Lord Beric has informed me that the Brotherhood is willing to reinforce the Night's Watch. I have decided to accept, and after discussions with my wife and Lady Missandei, will allow freed Essosi slaves to join them."

"They have just been freed…" Varys began.

"And are supremely loyal their Emperor for freeing them." Littlefinger said. "Let them build new lives here by fighting for their new land." Neither monarch objections, so let it stand.

"Their Majesties have informed me that they have come to a decision on various appointments." Sansa scanned over a sheaf of parchments.

Dany nodded. "Aye. Lord Varys will resume his position as Master of Whisperers." The bald eunuch bowed, respectfully at the honor. "Ser Jorah Mormont will be Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and I am appointing Lady Yara Greyjoy as Master of Ships. She and the Ironborn fleet will oversee the arrival of foodstuffs from Essos, as well as new recruits as both reinforcements and laborers for road building, smelting, and mining efforts."

"Shouldn't they all be soldiers, given the threat of the dead?" Arya asked.

"Logistics win wars, sister," Robb answered. "We need good roads."

Nodding, Jon continued. "I have decided to appoint Yezzan zo Qaggaz as master of coin."

Tyrion furrowed his brows. "Isn't his loyalty suspect?"

"He fought bravely at Highgarden," Jon replied. "He is someone with whom the Iron Bank could deal amiably with."

It still made some uneasy, Dany being one of them. "Although I do trust you, your Majesty, may I inquire the Lady Missandei's opinion."

"You may." He didn't take offense.

All eyes turned to the Empress' handmaiden. "I have spoken to Lord Qaggaz, your Highness. While he is a former slaver, I believe his loyalty has shifted. As a freedwoman, I do not make this statement lightly. We have all suffered enough."

Dany turned to the council. "I am leaving the position of Master of Laws vacant for the moment's being." She cleared her throat. "Lastly, have preparations been made for Ser Barristan's funeral?" Dany asked. The loss of Barristan Selmy had hit her hard and Jon harder. The last man alive who had truly known his father - aside from the Kingslayer.

"That is set for tomorrow," replied Varys, normally stolid voice tinged with respect. Barristan the Bold's reputation was high among all. "Cremation and interment of the ashes into the wall of heroes."

Jon, to his credit, didn't allow it to overwhelm him. "If that will be all, then this meeting can be concluded. All further matters may be discussed with Lord Tyrion or Lady Sansa."

With a succession of bows - including a rather glowing smile of loyalty from Littlefinger - the council shuffled out. "Better than expected," Dany whispered to him.

"Aye. No news from Edd, so that gives us time. I hesitate to estimate how much, but time." Jon put his hands on Dany's growing stomach, heart warming at feeling his child move around.

"Jon?" He looked up from his chair to see Arya, biting her lip. 'Nervous?' he wondered. Arya was never nervous - not once since their reunion had she been anything other than angry, determined, or happy. "May we speak to you two?" He noticed Gendry behind his sister. He was just as nervous.

He and Dany shared a quick glance. She was thinking exactly what he was - but formalities were formalities. "Of course," Jon allowed. "Anything for my sister and the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands." Shireen Baratheon had about as equal a claim, but there was no doubt that Gendry had earned his lordship on the field of battle.

Seconds ticked by, Gendry quiet while Arya repeatedly opened her mouth to speak, only to retreat soon after. "Well?" While it was amusing to see the great Arya Stark so tongue tied, Dany took pity on her. "This doesn't have to be politic, sister. Just spit it out," she chided gently.

"We would like for our wedding to happen tomorrow." Surprisingly, it was Gendry who blurted it out, not Arya. Jon and Daenerys hid their amusement, while the bride to be just glared at him. "It's something that has to be said, Arry, and I'm saying it."

"Before even the coronation?" Jon asked. "I mean, you already have my blessing, Arya. But I remember you telling me, and I quote, 'It's just a dumb ceremony. What's the… damn point between now and later?'" He cleaned up the language. "What changed?"

Arya looked at Gendry, who covered her hand with his. She sighed. "I still think it's a dumb ceremony. But as a Lord, Gendry will need heirs and I'm not letting some Fat Usurper oaf clone take Storm's End…" Fists clenching, she willed herself to calm down. "Plus… I guess that…"

"You truly want to get married." She truly was still a girl at heart. Daenerys could tell - same as all women of Houses Stark and Targaryen. Passionate, all of them.

Faced with the truth, Arya's facade broke down. "Aye. I want to be married... to the idiot here." Gendry merely grinned, a grin shared by the Emperor. Knowing Arya, that was a supreme compliment. "So… I know the King's Landing weirwood is probably in all states of fucked, but…"

"If you're asking me to give you away in father's stead," Jon interrupted, "The answer is yes."

So radically did his sister's demeanor change. Leaping out of the chair, she threw her arms around Jon. "Thank you. Thank you." Part of her hated being so… girly, but she allowed herself to indulge. "I'm still not wearing any stupid dress."

"I don't think anyone would ask that of you."