Chapter 203: Tommen's Resolve
Slowly walking over to Cersei's body, Tyrion looked down at the sister who had despised him since childhood—who had always believed he was responsible for their mother's death.
He stood there in silence for a long moment.
Then, without a word, he gently straightened her clothing before stepping back to Daenerys's side.
"Your Grace."
Jorah entered through the doorway.
His eyes lingered on Cersei's lifeless figure in the chair, surprise flickering across his face before he addressed Daenerys.
After entering the Red Keep, Jorah and Daario had split up to search the castle with their men.
Seeing Jorah's arrival, Daenerys led the others out of the room.
They had barely gone far when a figure appeared around the corner.
A bald man with a large, smooth head.
Loose robes.
Hands tucked into his sleeves.
"Your Grace."
The man bowed deeply.
Daenerys glanced at Tyrion.
Seeing him nod, she immediately understood.
Stepping forward, she personally helped the man to his feet.
"Thank you for everything, Varys."
For years he had remained hidden within King's Landing, constantly risking discovery by Cersei while secretly feeding information from both Slaver's Bay and Westeros back to Daenerys.
Any resentment she had once held toward him had long since disappeared.
Only gratitude remained.
At last, Varys's mission had come to an end.
After rising, Varys first nodded respectfully toward Drogon before turning to Tyrion, Jorah, and the others behind Daenerys.
Tyrion returned the gesture with a small nod.
Jorah seemed momentarily surprised to see him and paused before nodding as well.
"Your Grace..."
After greeting everyone, Varys lowered his voice and began briefing Daenerys on the situation inside King's Landing.
She listened carefully, nodding from time to time.
Five minutes later, they arrived before a massive oak door.
Daenerys pushed it open.
Beyond lay an enormous hall, vast enough to accommodate a thousand people.
The throne room stretched from north to south.
At the end of a path lined with luxurious carpets stood a raised platform.
And upon that platform rested the Iron Throne itself.
Forged from countless blackened swords fused together into a jagged monument of conquest.
As Daenerys walked down the carpeted aisle, the throne room around her gradually overlapped with the vision she had once seen within the House of the Undying.
There were differences.
No ash drifting through the air.
No shattered ceiling open to the sky.
But otherwise, the scene felt almost identical.
Ascending the steps, she ran her fingers across the cold iron armrests and the sharp blades rising behind the seat.
She remembered doing the same thing in the vision.
Back then, she had turned away before sitting down.
This time was different.
Daenerys slowly circled the throne once.
Then, at last, she sat.
The hard metal beneath her felt strangely comfortable.
In fact, it wasn't all that different from sitting upon Drogon's back.
For the first time in her life, the Iron Throne belonged to her.
Once Daenerys had settled upon the Iron Throne, Barristan and Missandei ascended the dais and took their places at her sides.
Tyrion, Jorah, and the others stood below on either side of the carpeted aisle. Jorah gave a subtle nod to the guards stationed at the entrance.
Two minutes later, the great oak doors slowly opened.
A procession entered.
Men and women, young and old, all dressed in the rich attire of Westerosi nobility.
At the front walked a young blond boy with a round face. His eyes swept across the hall before settling curiously on Daenerys, seated atop the Iron Throne.
"She suits that seat better than I ever did."
There was no bitterness in Tommen's eyes.
Only relief.
Behind him walked the beautiful Margaery Tyrell, concern etched faintly upon her face as she supported her grandmother, Olenna Tyrell.
After exchanging a brief nod with Tyrion, Olenna lifted her gaze toward the young woman on the Iron Throne—a queen scarcely older than her granddaughter, yet now holding the fate of House Tyrell in her hands.
Varys had already informed Daenerys of everything Olenna had done during King's Landing's isolation, including the actions taken by the Tyrell soldiers shortly before the city fell.
As for how to deal with House Tyrell, Daenerys had not yet decided.
Her gaze lingered on Olenna before pausing for several seconds on Margaery.
Then she looked beyond them.
Most of those gathered were heads of noble houses or their key representatives.
Kevan Lannister had died during the naval battle off Dragonstone and was therefore absent from the assembly.
As they looked upon the young queen seated upon the Iron Throne—and the majestic little black dragon resting on her shoulder—the nobles found it difficult to believe that the Dragon Queen who had marched north to fight the dead had returned so quickly to claim King's Landing.
Those with extensive information networks already knew why Cersei had broken the truce.
Rumors had spread that Daenerys had somehow angered the gods themselves and that divine decrees had been issued calling for her destruction.
At first, most had dismissed the story as a convenient excuse invented by Cersei and the High Sparrow to justify violating the peace agreement.
But as reports of miracles from the Great Sept and the Red Keep continued to circulate and gain confirmation, many had gradually come to believe that Daenerys truly had incurred divine wrath.
And yet now...
The Dragon Queen, her black dragon, and all her closest advisors stood alive and victorious within the Red Keep itself.
The supposed judgment of the gods suddenly seemed far less convincing.
Missandei stepped forward and raised her voice.
"Before you sits Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm!"
Many of Daenerys's former titles—Breaker of Chains, Liberator of Cities, and others—had been omitted at Tyrion's suggestion.
Those titles carried too much of Essos with them.
Now that Daenerys had come to Westeros as the rightful heir of House Targaryen, it was wiser to emphasize titles familiar to Westerosi lords and smallfolk alike.
It would make her rule easier to accept.
Surveying the assembled nobles, Daenerys slightly raised her chin.
"Kneel before me, and I will spare your lives."
Most of those present had supported military action against her.
Yet aside from Tommen, many had acted under pressure or necessity rather than genuine loyalty to Cersei.
Daenerys had not come to Westeros merely for vengeance.
She had come to reclaim the Iron Throne.
The moment her words fell, murmurs erupted throughout the hall.
Before Daenerys arrived at Dragonstone, Cersei had delivered speeches painting her as a ruthless tyrant.
She had repeatedly reminded the nobles that Daenerys had crucified more than a hundred slave masters in Meereen.
According to Cersei, if King's Landing ever fell, the common people might survive relatively unharmed—but the nobility would suffer greatly.
Most of those gathered had already resigned themselves to the possibility of death.
Their only hope had been to plead for mercy on behalf of their families.
Now, Daenerys's single sentence offered something they had scarcely dared dream of:
A chance to live.
"I swear my loyalty."
The familiar voice cut through the whispers.
Everyone turned.
Tommen stepped forward calmly.
Without hesitation, he openly declared his submission.
There was not the slightest trace of humiliation on his face.
No resentment.
No despair.
The reaction stunned everyone present—including Daenerys and Tyrion.
Tyrion stared at his nephew in disbelief.
He had not expected Tommen to surrender so quickly.
Nor had he expected that expression.
The shy, uncertain boy he remembered from childhood seemed gone.
Though Tommen had spent his reign overshadowed by his mother, being king had clearly forced him to grow.
Nearby, Margaery looked up in astonishment.
Was this truly the same young husband she had always guided and reassured?
Tommen's immediate submission also caught the assembled nobles off guard.
The murmuring ceased.
All eyes shifted between the former king and the woman seated upon the Iron Throne.
They wanted to see how Daenerys Targaryen would respond to the surrender of a defeated monarch.
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