A/N: ...for Drogon.

For that thrice blasted bloody ending.

For the Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons.

As always, this is humor, not meant to be taken seriously.

Hmm. I suppose this chapter actually could be, in a strange sense.

No terribly long author's note this time, and you can thank the ending of GOT for that. This chapter wasn't as long as I would've liked, but needs must, I suppose. I've been absolutely BOMBARDED for updates since Sunday and that ending. I'll say it plain, some of it was good, other bits were...not so much. But I'm sure you know that already, dear reader. Now then, I've kept you long enough, so off we go!

Sorry if its short~!

"First came the wolf.

Soon followed the scowling lion.

...and now we meet the last true dragons."

~?

Be With Me

Dear journal,

Well. I know what I'm going to do now.

Hmm? Do I regret it, you ask? Maybe. I should. Time isn't something you meddle with lightly, even as an elder god. Someone once said that time is like a rubber band; when you stretch it too far, it tends to snap back at you. HARD. But what's the point in being a god if you can't fix things? With great power comes great responsibility...and great chaos. Is that not our duty, then? To cause chaos? And in doing so, make the world a better place? For the many. For the few. For all. Perhaps that's a bit narcissistic on my part.

A tweak here, a pinch of spice there...

...and the world changes...

...and a girl smiles.

(...0o0o0...)

She must be going mad.

Daenerys Stormborn, Mother of Dragons, and the Last Targaryen-as far as she herself knew-feared she'd already lost her mind. Stumbling through the desert with no food or water tended to drive one out of their skull in short order, and she suspected she'd been treading dangerously close to that line for the better part of three days now. But what choice did she have? If she stopped, she would die. Her newborn dragons-not even a week old-would die. Jorah would die. Her khalasar, those precious people who had chosen to follow her even after Drogo's death, would die.

And it would be all her fault.

They were all looking to her for leadership, and she didn't know what to do. The weight of their lives, their futures, their everything was slowly crushing her with each passing moment, as sure as the sun searing her poor back. Beyond moving forward, there was nothing. She had promised all of them that their enemies would die screaming. How did you make starvation scream? No, she could only walk on in the hopes of finding something resembling civilization...until quite suddenly she could no longer mover her feet.

Or her face.

Or her hands.

Or much of anything, really.

"Oh, you poor Khaleesi." a soft, soothing voice trickled through her ears like wind against grass. "What have they done to you?"

Dany's eyes fluttered shut and open in a brief and baffled blink as she tried to understand what had happened to her. What was happening even now. They only closed for the merest of moment, the smallest of seconds. A sliver in time. Nothing more. Yet when she opened them she found the heat was gone, her throat was still dry, and her world had irrevocably changed.

In place of the scorching desert a gentle sea breeze caressed her face. She found herself no longer standing but instead herself sprawled on a simple, red-feather pillow beneath the crimson canopy of an equally scarlet tent. Though the crude Dothraki leathers she wore remained yet warm from the sun's kiss, she found that the rest of her was almost...cool by comparison. Rather than the searing sands at her feet, she found only cool grass tickling her toes. That only baffled her yet further, there should be no such surface here.

Her dragons trilled questioningly in her lap, but did not panic, and thus neither did she.

Warily, the Mother of Dragons rose, gathered her children in her arms, and moved toward the exit.

And her world changed again.

When she parted the tent flap she found the tent gone and the grass with it; in its place cool dark stone caressed her feet and high stone rose walls around her. Dark dragons carved of that same silent stone roared at her, large and frozen and fierce, yet terrifying all the same. Still she walked in these silent halls resembling dragon scale, not knowing where she was going, only that she must keep walking. Some small part of her wondered if she should know this place, these great wyrms glaring at her from stone, yet she felt nothing, only quiet confusion.

Eventually, hear feet carried her to a door, one that parted easily at her touch.

A sprawling chamber awaited her beyond, a totalitarian space, yet one that felt safe all the same. She glimpse a great throne at the end and someone perched upon it. Drogon squawked suddenly and fluttered out of her arms; when Daenerys reached for him she inadvertently looked down at her feet. As she did she found the symbol of her house waiting for her there; that great three-headed dragon, yet older carved long ago by those of her ancestors. Her heart leaped into her throat as she watched him roost upon one of those heads. Moments later, his brothers joined him on the remaining two heads.

She knew this place, though she'd never laid eye on it until this very moment.

"Welcome to Dragonstone." a familiar voice echoed off the chamber walls. "Hope its to your liking."

Reclining before her on a great scaled throne, her host awaited.

He wore no finery; or at least, none she could visibly see. Only a plain brown robe draped over his body, leaving his feet bare. Complacent blue orbs gazed back at her within a lean whiskered face, framed by rough blond hair and laugh lines lingering near those eerie eyes. And there, jutting from that flaxen mess...horns? Crimson and slender and carved in the color of blood, they seemed to shimmer in the pale light, warping and twisting hideously the longer she looked at them, almost as if they were larger than they looked, merely the face of some great creature, of a monster-

"Try not to stare overlong," he hummed. "They tend to drive people mad."

In a single motion he rose from the throne and swept down the steps to greet her.

"I apologize for the interruption." he beamed as he descended, exposing pearly white teeth in the fading light. "I didn't like the idea of just snatching you out of the desert like that, but I had to do it. Don't worry, I'll put you right back, if that's what you want." Only then did she realize with a start that his was the voice that had whispered to her only moments ago. "But first, lets talk, shall we?"

"Where am I?" she jolted up with a start, flailing for answers. "Where's Jorah?"

"I'm not interested in Jorah." a clawed hand flicked and Viserion chose that moment to hop onto it, much to her chagrin. "No, I'm interested in you." those blazing eyes turned from her smallest child and found hers with a cold and stark clarity. "His destiny is tied to yours; if your fate changes, so will his. If it stays the same, so will his. Pity about that. He's a good man. A bit flawed, but who isn't these days?"

Her first instinct was to snap at him for the implied threat; it was only her self-preservation, and her child perch on him, that prevented her.

"And you are...?"

"Uzumaki Naruto, at your service." his smile was entirely too toothy for her liking as he bowed and returned a chirruping Viserion to her arms. "Wandering deity, interdimensional travel, part-time devil, occasional granter of wishes...and other things. Its so nice to finally meet you...no, wait." he paused, and tilted his head considering her. "I tell a lie. We've met before...in other tales."

Daenerys grit her teeth. She mustn't show fear. Whatever else, she refused to show fear. Fear was death. It was fine to feel it, but one must not show it to others, lest they take advantage. She'd learn that much from her time among the Dothraki. If this stranger though her weak...no. She refused to think of it.

"No, no, don't ask me," yet his hand waved, dismissing the question that sprang to her lips before she could give it proper voice. "You wouldn't know them. I'm inclined to let those stories play out without intervention on my part. You see, for me this is our first meeting. Lets focus on the here and now, shall we? You must be thirsty and I'm sure Drogon, at least, is hungry."

Daenerys bristled, but the effect was lost on him. "How did you know his name?"

Naruto deflated and for a moment, that youthful smile turned unbearably ancient. "Do you really want me to answer that? Think carefully now. You might not like the answer."

The Mother of Dragons hesitated, but defiance reared its ugly head and pride flared to life within her. Enough. She'd grown tired of being batted around like a mouse in a cat's grasp; if he meant to kill her or poison her with mere meat then he should just get it over with already. She long for an escape from this fever dream, this madness that consumed her. She wanted to wake already, to be rid of it. And in thinking it a dream...well, now. That was where she erred.

A muscle jumped in her jaw. "Yes, I do."

Blue eyes hardened into chips of ice. "Have it your way, then. BOYS!"

All at once roof erupted overhead with a ponderous squeal and let the light in, layer upon layer of rock peeling back as though a pair of giant hands had simply plucked the roof off a toy house. Her children cried out in fear and curled up at her feet, causing her to move to shield them with her body, yet no stone struck them. A heart-stopping roar rattled their mother's very bones as the sky above turned black as pitch.

No, Daenerys realized with mounting horror. It hadn't turned black-something had blotted out the sun.

In the next instant she herself face to face with three fully grown dragons.

There could be no other word for this great towering winged creature, nor their great winged bulk soaring through the clouds. In moments the first was upon them, banking hard to land on the newly created ledge formed by the glaring absence of the chamber's roof. Its white-gold hide was almost painfully familiar. Though its body bore a great many wounds-one could see where careful bandages had been applied to a recently healed neck and a torn wing-it dropped to land before her with graceful splendor.

As she looked on in abject awe it thundered down from heaven to alight beside the Horned One with a mighty crash, rattling the hardened floor underfoot. Its great neck bent low as the blond gave its jaw a happy scratch, those blazing slitted eyes closing in content bliss. A contented trill fled from its toothy maw as it gazed back at her. Its great body shifted and undulate in what one might call...happiness? Indeed, it almost seemed to know her somehow, impossible as that might seem, as if-

"Wait for it." Naruto murmured suddenly, earning her instant ire.

"Wait for what?" she snapped.

"Why, the other two, of course." he hummed, unflinching as another crashed down behind her.

In contrast to its sibling the second one was smaller, but no less fierce. It landed beside its brother with a mighty tremor and howled at her with all the fury of a wounded animal; bringing its toothy maw mere inches from her face. Rank breath flooded out and the young khaleesi reeled, turning her face away, even going so far as to dip her head just to avoid the smell. Still those jaws loomed wide, ready to crunch down on her an instant, to mangle his marrow and butcher bones in a single bite-

"Stay!" Naruto's voice boomed just as a third slammed down beside it to delivered a sharp nip on its neck. The smaller dragon retreated, squealing.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" she only distantly heard her host, "Gorgeous beasts."

It was this third that broke Daenerys by far.

Far larger than either of its siblings put together, it was a a magnificent beast. Dwarfing everyone and everything it nevertheless seemed to recognize her somehow; to know her, this great black behemoth with red fringe and crimson wings, its massive head tilted to regard her as one might an old friend. As if he were welcoming her home. No. That was impossible. Unbidden her gaze strayed to the tiny creature in her palm, then back to this beast. Her hand rose, trembling, to alight upon its scaled muzzle in mute awe. A happy trill greeted her as those warm scales rubbed against her hand.

...Drogon?" she breathed the words out, her eyes wide and round with wonder. "Is that you?"

Both the tiny hatchling in her arms and the towering titan before her tilted their heads.

"The one and only." her host purred. "Your boys get biiiiiiig."

Her gaze snapped to him. "This is impossible."

At some unseen command this new Black Dread raised its head and roared, a great joyous sound of triumph and elation. Then he back-winged, nearly ripping the Mother of Dragons from her feet with a great gust of wind as he took to the air with a delighted cry.

"God, remember? These three were taken from...well." his lips quirked softly as he took his hand from the heads of-were those Rhaegal and Viserion, then?!-the remaining dragons and ceased scratching their scales to allow them to join their brother in the air, "Lets just a say a world best off without them. Their Mother suffer some...misfortune some time ago. Quite unfortunate, really. By the time I learned of her fate...well. It was already too late. Both her reputation and her body were beyond repair. But enough about that. I told you I would provide food, didn't I. Here."

With a snap of his fingers a table appeared before her, bearing a small tray of seared meat and a pitch of water. Still she wavered, hesitating as he returned to the throne.

A blond brow rose.

"If I meant to poison you I wouldn't go to all this trouble. C'mon now. Have at it."

Her children knew no such hesitation and fell too with reckless abandon even as their larger counterparts winged overhead.

Reluctantly she did as she was bade. "Why have you brought me here, stranger? I'm afraid I don't understand."

Naruto leaned forward in the throne, and something in his smile made her jerk back.

"I," the horned man began, smacking his lips, "Am a sucker for happy endings. Almost ridiculously so." those dangerous digits snapped again and the world shifted around them like sand. "My heart leaps when I see the villain stabbed through the heart. My soul sings when the hero saves the day. My blood boils when the triumphant get what they so richly deserve, what is so rightfully theirs. Tell me, which of those are you, Daenerys Stormborn? Hero? Villain? Something in between? Well? Tell me, Dany."

The name made her flinch, but she rallied in spite of it.

"I cannot claim to be a villain, nor a hero." she began slowly, choosing her words with great care as she soothed her parched throat. "I...just am."

"Well said!" the veracity of his laugh nearly made her jump. "Here I was going to talk to you before I sent you back but now...

"Now?"

Impossibly, his grin grew."

"I'm going to give you three choices. You can have your red door, and the childhood you never had. I'll erase your memories, turn you back into a child, and drop you off in an alternate universe where your family was never deposed and your brother never born. Your friends and family in this timeline will each live a long, prosperous life. Everyone wins, everyone lives, everyone's happy. Perhaps that's naive of me. Or,"

And here the world did cease its shift and she found herself face to face with a familiar tent among a great grass sea.

"You can go back and have your love. Khalasar and all." his smile didn't waver when she glared at him. "What? Don't give me that look. You'll never meet that meddlesome witch and will give birth to the "Great Stallion" who mounts the world. Who knows? Your dragons might even be born. And now we come to option three!"

His hands collided in a sharp pop of sound and the world, as well as its dragons, roiled around them once more.

When next it cleared she found herself someplace else entirely.

Gone was Dragonstone, gone was the home of her ancestors and the future of her children. In its place lay something she had never seen before, yet always longed for. A great black-and-grey edifice of iron and steel, a chair unlike any other, one countless men and women had died for over the ages. And yet somehow, someway, she knew it all the same.

The Iron Throne.

"This is a trick." she croaked.

"My dear, I do not deal in riddles. Only truth."

"Oh, its quite real." he reassured her. "Go ahead. Touch it."

Her hand graced one of the round pommels at the edge, fingers caressing the strangely sharp steel there.

"But you can only have one destiny." the warning rose in her ears as she sobbed softly, sharper than any blade. "If you choose the words carefully enough and use your smarts, you might even be able to make two of these choices yours in any one lifetime. But it can never be all three. I'm good, but I'm not that good."

Violet eyes narrowed in quiet despair. "How...how can I choose any of this?"

The look he gave her bordered on outright pity. "You must."

And in the end, she did.

A/N: *sighs*

There, now I can get the bad taste of Season Eight's ending out of my mouth. We may have lost *redacted* and *redacted* not to mention *redacted* became king but at least they'll live on in myth and story. And fanfiction. Lots and lots of fanfiction. Or perhaps the books. Who knows? In any case, I'm off to work, got another double header/back to back shift. Ah, the joys of two jobs. But the money's well worth it.

Still can't believe they made *redacted* king. Seriously? Guess the leaks were true.

But I'll talk to you guys and gals later tonight.

So In the Immortal Words of Atlas...

...Review, Would You Kindly?

And enjoy the preview!

Be goooooooood~!

(Preview(s))

"Wake up, Robert. Someone wasted a wish on you."

A hand snapped down and seized the corpse by the throat.

And with a rush of life and flesh and blood, the Storm King lived again.

And the corpse

"Can you talk?"

The Night King stared.

"Strong silent type, eh? I get that."

As he looked on the young man before him sad and folded his legs. Despite the sword jutting from his chest-a fatal blow-his expression never once wavered as he lifted the bottle of Dornish wine to his lips and drank. If anything he seemed faintly amused by the army of the dead surrounding him. Perhaps simply didn't care. Perhaps he was dying even know. Unlikely. He knew death, and that was not the look of a dead man. How could survive a sword through the heart? It was almost...fascinating.

Crimson eyes blazed up at him, red as blood.

"Lets make a deal, you and I."

And the Night King smiled.

R&R! =D