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Special Shout-outs to LoneNight, Zulu86, and Xris Robin for putting this story on their communities. I don't know what that means, exactly, but I'm tickled by it.

Disclaimer: Sadly, I am not the genius behind A Song of Ice & Fire, nor one of the ones behind Rise of the Guardians. All I own is my own insanity, which I claim proudly and fully blame for this convoluted mess.

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Chapter Twenty: DAENERYS

Dany had a headache. In all honesty, it felt more like three headaches, but since she only had the one head, she was counting it as a singular affliction. The arguing voices around her registered as a high-pitched buzzing that grated on her nerves and made her want to scream and swear and throw things. Sadly, she could do none of these things, no matter how appealing. She was queen and khaleesi, and could not act like a child.

So she endured, resting her head on her fingertips, surreptitiously massaging her temple. She kept her eyes alert and her face stoic as she tried to make sense of the ringing that was the debate of her future. Idly, she noticed her council had split itself into two groups; those from Westeros and her khalasar, and those from Meereen.

The Meereenese advisors were going on about how she was their queen. They thought she should remain in the walled city; why did she need to conquer a land that was too big to watch over. Really, she knew that half were afraid they would become slaves if she left, while the other wanted her to stay so she could be killed. They were so tiresome.

Ser Barristan was no better, insisting that if she wanted Westeros, she had to move now. She knew his wisdom was sound; winter was settling across the sea and once it had arrived, the people would be too tired from their own war to fight back. Westeros would be hers, but she would be a remembered as a ruthless conqueror. They would neither love nor respect her. But if she went now, she could arrive as a hero, overthrowing the oppressors and bringing the bounty of Essos.

Her eyes moved to her Dothraki advisors; not that they did much advising. They merely stood and looked intimidating, more bodyguards than anything else. They had only sided with Ser Barristan because it meant moving on. They did not like the idea of crossing the sea, but it was better than remaining in one rotten pit of a town.

Sighing, Dany let her head fall to the table, crossing her arms over her hair. Chairs scraped as the council half-stood in concern, but she waved them back. "My apologies to you all. I fear I have been overexerting myself as of late. We will revisit this matter later, though for now I must excuse myself."

Gathering her grace, Dany rose from the table, striding elegantly out of the room, though she let her pretenses fall as soon as she was out of sight of the council. Her shoulders drooped and her steps were unsteady as she directed herself to her chamber, stopping in front of a reflective glass.

To be honest, it was more a lack of sleep than an excess of productivity that wore at her so. She had been battling against sleep since the Sanddreamer's appearance at court, ordering her handmaidens to rouse her if she slipped into slumber. They were not happy about it, but they did as she commanded. And her insomnia was starting to show. Dark circles ringed her eyes and her hair, while steadily getting longer, had lost its shine, seeming almost grey against her washed out skin.

She felt haggard and aged, staring at herself in the mirror, and that did what all those voices could not do. She could not live like this. She could not stay in this city where the little golden man was free to plague her. Tired fingers brushed the puffy bags that swelled her eye sockets. "I will return to Westeros," she told her reflection, staggering to her bed. The sun still hung in the sky; surely her sleep would be safe and she could allow herself a brief nap.

As she slipped beneath the sheets, coils of golden sand wrapped around her, plunging her into an unconsciousness that clung until dawn. Tension melted off her and a smile graced her sleeping face as visions of silver haired children and a red door danced in her dreams.

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A/N: I am so, so sorry. This is an obscenely late update, even for me. It's just that RL has gotten hectic lately and my muse has been lazy and lethargic. Still, 3 ½ months is ridiculous. Thanks for sticking with me. I promise I have no intention of abandoning this story. Maybe I'll even get back to making sense soon. Anyhow, I hope you enjoyed this (really, really weak) chapter, even if only because it's an update. Making you all smile is my late birthday present to myself.