#but as an infantryman. he's a prince and now he's got his domain and his family and his planet to look after and I think he deserves

[shannonsketches]

something something foils moving in opposite directions Goku's always happy to seek and fight stronger opponents because he spent most of his life being the strongest guy in the room and Vegeta wants to be the strongest/is always exhausted to find stronger opponents because he spent most of his life having to navigate his survival around the whims of the strongest guy in the universe room and so Goku has a foundation of safety and stability and so spends his time craving challenge and adventure and Vegeta has a foundation of challenge and adventure and spends his time craving safety and stability and the overlaid section of their venn diagram is that the only way they know how acquire and maintain those things is through battle

[fanfichme]

The Dragon Queen

Home. A concept that had never truly meant anything to Daenerys Targaryen, chased by the usurper’s dogs throughout the Free Cities as a child, and wandering from the Dothraki Sea to the jade gates of Qarth, to the human stink of Slaver’s Bay in her young adulthood. Now she finally stood, Queen and conqueror, breaker of chains, in the place of her birth, her ancestral home, Dragonstone. House Baratheon had taken possession of the castle and the small villages that hugged the coast since the rebellion had taken her family from her, but after the defeat on the Blackwater, most of Lord Stannis Baratheon’s bannermen had taken what little they had left and returned to their own domains to lick their wounds and try to rebuild under the reigns of King’s Robert’s children. Now those children were dead, and the Mad Queen Cersei Lannister sat on the Iron Throne, ruling through fear and violence. At least, this is what Lord Varys had told her. The eunuch had managed to slip away from King’s Landing in the tumult that followed the blowing up of the Sept, and was sitting at the Painted Table when Daenerys arrived, as if he had been waiting for her the whole time. Daenerys vaguely recalled Varys’ name, and for reasons she could not explain, felt him akin to Ilyrio Mopatis. She knew from Ser Barristan that he had been her father’s Master of Whisperers, and Ser Barristan cautioned Daenerys not to trust him. “The rot in your father’s reign began with Lord Varys”, he told her, and Daenerys promised not to take anything he said at face value. Ever since she flew Drogon for the first time, after the Betrayal at the Fighting Pits, Daenerys had learned to trust her judgment more and more. She had subdued the other khals, becoming the Stallion Who Mounts the World and uniting all the khalasars, then led the Great Khalasar on to Volantis, where her armies crushed the Tigers and Elephants of Volantis and inciting a slave riot that spread to Astapor, Yunkai, and Meereen. Daenerys did not bother to worry herself with how the freedmen would govern themselves. “Dragons plant no trees”, she told herself, and no one questioned her authority or her motives. “Where once you were Queen Rhaella’s little girl, you are now the very model of the warrior queen Visenya”, Ser Barristan told her on the day the siege of Volantis was broken, dropping to his knees in front of Daenerys at the entrance to the Black Gates of Volantis. Daenerys had never been told much about her female ancestors, especially not Visenya, the warrior queen who subdued the Vale and helped her brother burn thousands of Reachmen and Westermen at the Field of Fire. After Ser Barristan told her more about Queen Visenya, and Lady Rhaenys and her granddaughter Lady Baela, who fought bravely on dragonback during the Dance of Dragons, Daenerys began to think of Rhaegal and Viserion as being named after Queen Visenya and Lady Rhaenys, the Queen Who Never Was. She was angry with her brother Viserys, for not telling her these stories, but resolved to never be that ignorant again. Once she was Queen of Westeros, girls would have the same educational opportunities as boys, and the histories would be modified to reflect her great-great-great-great-great-great grandmother Rhaenyra as Rhaenyra I Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lady of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. “Even if she only sat the Iron Throne for half a year, she still sat!”, Daenerys said hotly to Ser Barristan, who only nodded sadly and smiled. “Aye, my Queen, that she did.” 

She had her scribes, led by her Chief Scribe Missandei of Naath, write down the stories Ser Barristan told her. “Your Grace, when we get to Westeros, the maesters of the Citadel will have all of these stories written for you already, there is no need”, Ser Barristan explained. “The same maesters that omitted Queen Rhaenyra’s reign from the histories of Westeros? The same maesters that call my father ‘mad’, and his a great statesman?” Daenerys gestured to the small man seated to her left. Tyrion Lannister. He was found with Daenerys’ beloved Ser Jorah in Volantis, his face a hideous assemblage of scars, but missing a nose. Ser Barristan spit in his direction every time he saw him or heard his name. His hatred of all Lannisters was only dwarfed by Tyrion himself. “My father was a tyrant, an evil man, and a bad propagandizer besides”, Tyrion ventured. “You shut your mouth, Imp! One such as you does not speak to Queens unless you have been directed to!” Ser Barristan rounded on Tyrion, but with one movement from Daenerys’ hand, he was quieted. 

In front of others, especially the Westerosi in her camp like Harry Strickland, Ser Barristan, and Ser Jorah, Daenerys treated Tyrion with the utmost contempt. But when no one was around, save Missandei and her sworn shield Grey Worm of the Unsullied, Daenerys enjoyed talking to Tyrion about Westeros, the Great Houses and their bannermen, the history and current events, and certain persons that Daenerys felt she would need to know. While they talked, they would play cyvasse, and Tyrion often remarked at how quickly Daenerys picked up on the game. “I may be a young girl, unskilled in the ways of war, but-” “Oh Your Grace, surely you don’t expect anyone to fall for that now? Everyone from Asshai to Ashford has has heard how you toppled the pyramids of Meereen, tore down the walls of Astapor and Yunkai, and set Volantis aflame.” Daenerys smiled. “Westeros is not Slaver’s Bay, Imp. It will take a different sort of strength to win the Iron Throne.” Tyrion’s green eye twinkled while his black eye glittered with malice. “That is so, my Queen, and I’m glad to hear you say it.” Daenerys moved her elephant piece to block Tyrion’s infantryman. “Tell me what I should I expect when I land on Dragonstone.” Tyrion studied the board, then sighed with resignation. “We should make entreaties with either the ironborn or the Reach. Your elephants have shown me the folly of having no sea power.” “The Reach? That’s in the south, where the bulk of the food in Westeros is grown. The Wardens of the South are House Tyrell… your family’s allies.” Daenerys’ eyes narrowed at this last piece of information. “Ah! So you haven’t heard! Good, I wanted to be the first to inform you of this most excellent news. Can’t let Barristan the Bore have all the fun.” “Have a care how you speak about the Lord Commander of my Queensguard, Imp. I enjoy you...but that could always change.” Tyrion held his hands up in submission. “My apologies, Your Grace. You are right, and as always, I have erred. I got excited, because the news I have will benefit you greatly when you arrive in Westeros.” Daenerys was beginning to get impatient. The dwarf was intelligent and funny at times, but he was awfully proud for one so stunted, and full of self-importance. “Well on with it, Lannister, I don’t like to be kept waiting!” Tyrion leaned in conspiratorily, which made Grey Worm lean in protectively as well. Tyrion glanced up, then promptly leaned back. “My sister, the Mad Queen they’re calling her now, has blown up the Sept of Baelor, and with it, the Lannister alliance with House Tyrell and the Reach.” Daenerys was temporarily stunned. Blown up? “How…?”, she began to ask, but the imp was truly excited and interrupted her. “Wildfire! Can you believe it? She did what your father-” Tyrion suddenly recalled where he was and who he was speaking to, and lowered his head. “My apologies, Your Grace, I spoke out of-” “It’s fine, Imp. My father was mad, as was my brother Viserys. Ser Barristan once told me that my grandfather, King Jaeherys, told him once that when a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin to see if they will be mad or not. I was lucky, I inherited the Targaryen love of fire and blood, but not the madness. I have to wonder now though, if your sweet sister is some distant kin. She seems the very image of my late father.” Daenerys grinned, and Tyrion returned the smile. “Aye, Your Grace, that she does. I cannot wait to tell her so, before she becomes a meal for one of your dragons.” “What does this mean for me, Imp?” “Well Your Grace, it means the Reach is yours. Dorne is already yours, of that I’m sure, though I’m not confident we’ll be able to get the Reach and Dorne to cooperate with one another.” “Prince Baelor Breakspear did it, did he not? During the first Blackfyre Rebellion, he led the Dornish force whilst his brother, Prince Maekar, led the vanguard with Lord Leo Tyrell’s reachmen. Prince Baelor pinned the rebel army against Prince Maekar’s shield wall, and afterward they were dubbed the Hammer and the Anvil.” Tyrion looked impressed. “You certainly take to your war studies, my Queen! Yes, you are absolutely right. Although not all the Houses of the Reach sided with House Targaryen, Prince Baelor was such an exceptional general that men from both sides of the Red Mountains followed him eagerly. As I expect they will do for you, and your dragons. Losing the Reach will be a grievous blow for Cersei, although I suspect she will not see it this way. Very paranoid, my sister. Never able to tell friend from foe.” Tyrion studied the cyvasse board once again. “This means the Redwyne fleet will be yours, sparing you the need to ally yourself with House Greyjoy and the ironborn.” Daenerys looked at Tyrion quizzically. “Why does everyone speak so lowly of the ironborn? What are they like?” Tyrion grimaced. “Devious, my Queen, ten times more devious than the most conniving Lannister ever born. And barbarous. Theirs is the Drowned God, a pitiless god who requires his supplicants to drown themselves and be born again. Not all survive the ordeal. They also have no respect for honest trade, only valuing what they can take and steal, calling it the ‘iron price’. And now, from what I’ve heard, they are led by Euron Crow’s Eye, a kinslayer and pirate, feared all across the known world. No doubt he is engaged in reaving across the westerlands as we speak, which...well Your Grace, I am your man through and through but I cannot help but to feel for the people of the westerlands. I was raised there, you know.” Daenerys touched Tyrion’s hand gently. “They’re my people too, Tyrion. All the people of the Seven Kingdoms are my people. We will do whatever we can to protect the people of the west, the Reach, even the Stony Shore if they need my assistance!” Tyrion looked up at Daenerys gratefully. “I am honored to be in the confidence of a truly just ruler, my Queen. The Father knows that the Seven Kingdoms have gone too long without one.”