A/N: Daenerys grows desperate.
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He's too strong. As Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion try their damnedest to kill Axel Baratheon to no avail, Daenerys watches on from the sidelines. The more she watches, the more a sense of hopelessness and despair well up inside of her.
The Baratheon King was toying with them. He was playing with her dragons like they were nothing more than particularly rambunctious dogs. Oh, that wasn't to say he wasn't being… rough. All three of her draconic children are bleeding into the water below at this point. Scales, fangs, and claws… all have lost at least a handful of each of the three.
And what do they have to show for it? Practically nothing. The Baratheon King remains untouched, clad in Valyrian Steel Armor and wholly unscathed. The only thing he seems to avoid is dragonfire, and Daenerys suspects that he only does so to protect his precious Valyrian Steel from potentially being brought to a melting point.
Ultimately, she'd almost died right at the start of the fight. After dodging three streams of dragonfire with ease, Axel Baratheon had shot forward faster than Daenerys could react, coming within feet of her before Rhaegal had interrupted him and headed him off.
Since then, the Baratheon King has made no other attempts on her life though. Instead, he's been content to face off against her dragons, leaving her to watch the battle from afar. It… it wasn't supposed to be that way. Daenerys had always intended to launch herself into the fight right alongside her children, to fight four on one against the Usurper's Bastard.
… But in the moment, fear held her back. He was too fast, too strong, too tough. And she… she didn't hold a candle to him. If none of her dragons could so much as crush him in their jaws, then her own claws were useless. If they could barely keep up with his speed with their titanic wings and the burning furnaces in their chests, then he would dance circles around her too.
More than that, Daenerys knew if she died, the connection between her and her dragons would be cut and they would be dramatically weakened. She was the lynchpin here, the weakness that anyone with half a mind for strategy would realize they should take out immediately.
… And yet, Axel Baratheon left her alone. Because he didn't need to rely on strategy. He didn't need to find a weakness to exploit… he was too strong for such things.
Was everything Daenerys had done to get to this point truly pointless? She'd sacrificed children and this was all that it amounted to? Her and her dragons were being thrashed above her family's ancestral seat after their opponent hadn't even been subtle about pushing them all the way back here!
Had Melisandre been right? Had the only way to win been to sacrifice her sons?
…
… No. NO. She refused to accept that. She refused to fall here! She refused to let the demon win!
"ENOUGH!"
Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion all let out matching cries as they break away from Axel Baratheon. Much to Daenerys' relief, he lets them all go, watching as they fly back to her, to their mother. With a flicker of a thought, Daenerys forces them into a full retreat, though she can feel their reluctance, especially from Drogon. Nevertheless, her command is absolute. All three dragons fly down to Dragonmont, retreating to the caves located within the volcano's greatest heights.
Still close to her… but far enough away that Axel Baratheon would hopefully not be able to put an end to what she was about to do next.
"Going to surrender?"
Daenerys' eyes narrow into slits at the Baratheon's cavalier, almost jovial tone. He's pulled up the faceplate of his helmet and has the gall to smile at her, acting like he's not even winded. He… probably isn't, Daenerys is forced to admit.
Hell, he hasn't even been using that sword of his all this time. It's made of Valyrian Steel, just like his armor, and if he'd so desired, he could have lopped off any part of her dragons that he wanted to with it. Instead, he'd been holding it in such a way so that the blade lay flat along the back of his arm, using nothing but the pommel and his fists… and winning anyways.
No more.
"You'd like that, wouldn't you? I'm sure you'd love to have me at your mercy, you brute."
Daenerys ignores the twinge in her loins at her own words. She's always had a weakness for strong men like Axel Baratheon, after all. But just because he reminds her of Drogo in some ways doesn't mean she's going to let herself go down that mental path.
Instead, she checks and when she finds that her dragons are safely tucked away, she begins to put her plan into action even as the Baratheon King looks offended.
"What sort of lies has that Red Priestess been feeding you about me? I don't force myself on women. Not ever."
Daenerys frowns. He might be telling the truth for all she knows. Melisandre had certainly lied about enough things, and his Dornish Queen's family certainly didn't seem as ready to betray him as they'd initially thought.
… But in the end, it didn't matter. And Daenerys… Daenerys is ready.
"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?"
Axel opens his mouth to respond, but Daenerys is already there. She enjoys the sight of his eyes widening in honest surprise as she barely has to twitch her wings to launch herself forward far faster than she's ever moved before. Her claws rake across his face as he belatedly begins to pull his head back… and catch upon his flesh for the first time.
It's not quite the full flaying of his face that she's hoping for. In fact, only her longest claw, the middle one, actually manages to truly dig in. But the result is still something that sends her heart soaring as Axel pulls back, staring at her in disbelief.
Slowly, he brings his free hand up and runs a hand across the profusely bleeding gash in his cheek. She'd wounded him. She'd made him bleed.
"Well now… that's interesting."
Interesting? Daenerys laughs, sure that he's just covering for his terror. She leaps forward through the air again, claws ready to do damage now. Axel responds by moving just as fast as she does, slamming his faceplate back into place and lifting up an arm to block her strikes as she furiously attacks with everything she has.
No… not everything SHE has. Everything THEY have. Melisandre, it would seem, had taught her one last thing after all. Daenerys didn't have to sacrifice her dragons for more power. She just had to make sure they were out of harm's way.
By sending all three of her dragons down to the volcano below, Daenerys could freely draw upon Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion's inner flames without worrying about them growing too weak to hold themselves aloft in the air. So long as she didn't push too hard, they would merely come out the other side exhausted and drained, but not dead. And she could always help them recover later, once the Baratheon King was dead.
"What's this? You're so much stronger now! Stronger even than your dragons! So this is your true power, huh? Come on then! Show me more!"
Of course, it would be nice if the Baratheon didn't sound so… enthused about it. She's fighting him on equal footing now. They're exchanging matching blows, her claws slamming him back, his fist punching into the scales beneath her dress with punishing force.
She doesn't have Valyrian Steel Armor and her garments aren't rated for this kind of wear and tear. Her armor lies under her dress in the form of her dragon scales… and ultimately her dress doesn't survive the fighting. It rips away piece by piece and Daenerys is soon left fighting naked… but she doesn't mind. Her entire body is covered in dragon scales, from her neck all the way down to the talons that have enveloped her feet.
Her tail has also grown, allowing her to whip it around and slam the spiked tip into Axel Baratheon's side, sending him careening through the air hundreds of feet whenever it connects.
Finally… he's forced to escalate. His Valyrian Steel Sword flicks out from its place against the length of his arm and into a proper grip in his hands. Daenerys narrows her eyes but also can't help grinning, knowing that she's pushed him to this.
Of course, that grin lasts right up until the first clash between his sword and her claws. Daenerys howls as one set of her claws are shorn from her hand, leaving untouched pale digits underneath. He doesn't actually injure her, but it still feels real, the pain lancing through her mind.
She gives as good as she gets though at least, slamming her other set of claws into the side of Baratheon's head, grabbing onto his helmet and ripping it off to toss it into the churning waters of Blackwater Bay below.
He's stopped bleeding from his cheek by that point, but Daenerys doesn't care. She just reforms the claws he cut off and goes back for more. His sword punctures her scales here and there, but again, she doesn't care… she can fight through any injury with the power that dwells within her and her dragons. Every slice, every thrust, every wound… it heals almost instantly, allowing her to keep going.
They're evenly matched. Which, frankly, is just ridiculous. Daenerys has sacrificed hundreds if not thousands of slavers to gain this power. More than that, she's relying on all three of her dragons to empower herself even further. All Axel Baratheon has is a sword, a suit of armor, and his own body. He's no sorcerer from what she knows of him. Tch, he truly is a demon, to be so demonstrably but also naturally powerful.
But she can win. She can do it. She just… needs… more. More speed. More strength. More power. As she draws a bit further on her connection with her draconic children, Daenerys gets what she needs. She gets faster. She gets stronger.
Then… the next time Axel's sword meets her claws, he's not able to cut through them like previously. The look of shock on his handsome face is absolutely delicious as Daenerys traps his sword and then slams her tail into the side of his head. His blade is ripped from his hands as he's sent careening back, blood pouring from his skull in the process.
A fatal injury? For a moment, Daenerys dreams to hope even as she flicks his sword into the waters below… but then he rights himself and all she sees in his eyes is raw fury and determination. He's not done yet despite being disarmed. But that's okay because neither is-
Daenerys' eyes widen and her blood goes cold as she feels the connection between her and one of her dragons suddenly flicker and threaten to go out on her. Her head immediately twists in the direction of the caves where she's sent her children, allowing Axel to score a free hit with his fist across her scales, crushing a few of them and causing her to cry out and rear back in pain.
But her pain is nothing compared to the fear she feels as she's forced to draw further on her connection to her draconic children in order to heal the wound, only to feel how close to death they all are. Daenerys has let it all get away from her. She's pulled too much from her dragons. She's drawn too deeply from the pool of power they all share. Their lifeforces… are fading. And she almost didn't even notice, so caught up in trying to win.
… She was no better than Melisandre.
In a split second, Daenerys loses her nerve. She turns and bolts, the fight forgotten as she puts every ounce of her remaining speed in getting to her children's sides. All that matters is keeping them alive.
The Baratheon doesn't follow her. Not immediately, anyways. Daenerys is able to slip into the caves where Drogon, Rhaegal, and Viserion have all curled up around heat vents where lava from the Dragonmont Caldera below rises. She's alone when she arrives, panting for breath.
The heat doesn't bother her one bit and she rushes over to her children with tears streaming down her face.
"I'm s-sorry. I'm so sorry…"
There is no anger, that's the worst part. Her dragons croon at her as she focuses on giving the power back to them. More than that, she calls upon the healing aspect of her magic, fixing their injuries, mild as most of them were, healing their wounds.
That's how Axel Baratheon finds her, fussing over staunching the bleeding coming from some torn up scales on Drogon. The Baratheon King doesn't seem affected by the heat either as he walks into the cave, weaponless. But then, his body is his weapon. His fists alone are worth a thousand armed warriors…
Her dragons try to rise, growling their defiance, but Daenerys pushes them back through the connection, forcing them to stay down. To… to submit. Axel had been astonishingly playful with them, for some reason. Maybe he could be convinced to spare them… after he finished her off.
"Interesting. I didn't know that blood magic could be used to heal. Can you heal others like that too, or just yourself and your dragons?"
Daenerys twitches, stiffening up as she slowly stands. Her draconic features have faded away; the power she's expended to keep her dragons alive and heal them up having left her… empty. But she can still stand on her own two feet at least and face her death with her head held high. Even if she is very aware of her nudity at this point in time. Naked before her enemy… a humiliating end is in store for her, Daenerys is sure of it.
"… I can. But what does it matter? I know there's only one way for this to end. All I ask is that you consider making it quick… and also consider letting my children live after you kill me. I can… I can impress upon them a need to submit to you. You'll need them against the Great Other's forces, once I'm gone."
She throws out that last bit with no small amount of vitriol in her voice. She was supposed to be Azor Ahai Reborn. Defeating the Great Other and the White Walkers was supposed to be her destiny. Or maybe that was just another one of Melisandre's lies. Still… if she could bargain for the lives of her children, it was worth trying to warn him.
Axel Baratheon is watching her quietly, blood caking one side of his head still yet not seeming to be much of a detriment. Daenerys straightens her spine and speaks clearly, doing everything in her power to keep the waver from her voice.
"The Others return. They're coming south from the Lands of Always Winter as we speak. The White Walkers and the wights will spill over all of Westeros and plunge the land into eternal ice if you are not prepared and-!"
"I know."
Daenerys stops, taking the words like a punch to the gut. What?
"A brother of the Night's Watch arrived in King's Landing some time ago with a similar story. The wildlings have banded together in a bid for survival, fleeing to the Wall to try and use it as refuge. The wights hound their every step and Walkers are said to command them. I would have already flown north to take care of it… if I didn't have to deal with you."
O-Oh.
She meant to stay standing. To keep some small modicum of her pride until the end. But hearing that, combined with the exhaustion overtaking her… Daenerys collapses to her knees, the strength leaving her legs. The Baratheon King has the gall to look at her with concern, even as Daenerys just stares forward at nothing in particular.
"I… I see."
… Was she ever truly Azor Ahai? Was she ever the savior of Westeros that she thought she was? No… no, it was all a lie, wasn't it? She was never anything but Melisandre's pawn all this time. She'd slaughtered so many people. Burnt entire cities to the ground. Sacrificed literal children on the altar on Melisandre's instruction.
… Axel Baratheon was never a demon or a tyrant, was he? It was her. She was the monster. She was Melisandre's monster.
Suddenly, a shadow covers her and Daenerys looks up into blue eyes to see Axel staring down at her wordlessly. Her vision swims, both from exhaustion and tears in her eyes.
"Do it. Kill me."
Axel just grunts.
"I'm not going to kill you, Daenerys Targaryen."
Daenerys blinks, baffled.
"You… you have to. I'm the monster. I'm the d-demon. I'm the th-threat…"
Snorting derisively, Axel drops into a crouch so that they're eye to eye. He has… really beautiful eyes. And a handsome face. Or maybe that's just the exhaustion talking.
"You don't seem very threatening right now. And I don't have to do anything. Perks of being King of the Seven Fucking Kingdoms. I decide what's right and what's proper."
He sounds amused by his own words, but he's not done yet.
"You're strong, Daenerys Targaryen. And I like wrestling your dragons. Rather than dying pointlessly here in this cave… how about you become one of my women instead."
… What.
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A/N: Himbo Axel strikes again. Or maybe it's the head injury talking… first time he's ever had a concussion, after all.
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