The latest season of Game of Thrones ended weeks ago, and my will to live has dwindled. The final episode queerbaited in magnificent form by showing Yara Greyjoy flirting with Daenerys Targaryen with roguish innuendo.

I know Daenerys and Yara are not going to end up together. That’s just not the world Game of Thrones inhabits. However, who’s to say we can’t imagine: What if?

Yara Greyjoy gazes through the thick mist, searching for her first glimpse of King’s Landing. The weathered wooden planks of Yara’s prize ship, The Storm Born, creak as she paces impatiently. She hasn’t seen her wife, Daenerys, for over a month and Yara longs to run her rough, battle-scarred hands through Dany’s soft, white-blonde tendrils and look deep into those disarming amethyst eyes. Dany might sit on the iron throne, but Westeros and the Seven Kingdoms need constant displays of strength to remain united. And Yara’s fearsome fleet of Ironborn is the perfect reminder to any revolution-minded subjects that Yara and Dany are as strong as any royal couple.

There it is. The Red Keep, looming magnificently above the entrance of Blackwater Bay. Yara stares up at the pale red stone drum-towers and iron ramparts. Somewhere beyond those stone parapets is her beloved. Just as Yara’s thoughts drift to what she is going to do to Dany that evening, Theon Greyjoy appears at her side.

“Contemplating what Dany will do to thank you for quelling the Southern riots?”

Yara smiles and gives Theon a playful cuff. “You know me too well.”

“Well, I’m glad one of us found the joys of married life.” As always, Theon’s smile is tinged with sadness.

The torture, castration, and trauma Theon endured as Ramsay Bolton’s captive was irreparable. Theon could no more experience attraction for a woman than Yara could experience it for a man. He has made the best of it, lost that haunted look in his eye. He stands tall, like Yara, his shoulders no longer slumped with the expectation of punishment. Varys had taken Theon under his wing, and together they maintain and control Dany’s brilliant network of spies. Theon has little birds of his own now and formed a salon—a support system—for asexuals throughout King’s Landing. At first, it was eunuchs and nuns, but now increasing numbers of native asexuals join Theon in monthly meetings.

One of Dany’s first decrees proclaimed that all sexualities, genders, and identities were equal in the Seven Kingdoms. This had caused a bit of a stir, but after Dany’s forces swiftly defeated those of the mad Queen Cersei and Dany publicly wed Yara, the people of Westeros were so stunned and tired of fighting that they either accepted it or kept their disapproving mutters quiet. And those who protested loudly… Well, their heads decorated the walls of King’s Landing.

Dany and Yara’s patience only stretched so far, and to sit on the Iron Throne was to wield absolute power. There was no longer room for homophobia, sexism, or racism in the Seven Kingdoms.

After what felt like an eternity, The Storm Born glided through Blackwater Rush and landed near the Mud Gate. Yara and Theon begin barking orders.

“Tie the rope, form an assembly line to unload the cargo. The sooner we finish the sooner you get a drink, and I get my Queen.”

The company cheered, rushing to finish their tasks.

It had taken a while to drill Dany’s “No rape” decree into the Ironborn’s thick, stubborn heads, but after every man took a required seven-week Women’s History course under the firm eye of the Sisters of the Sept, each man signed a pledge to honor a woman’s right to choose and always ask consent.

“Anything to stop the talking,” one young Ironborn had observed.

Yara watches the crew with pride. Her people, like all the people of Westerns and The Seven Kingdoms, had learned and changed at an astonishing rate. It was a new era.

Dany struggles to maintain her expression of compassionate authority as yet another member of the Small Council drones on. Sometimes she misses the days of freeing slaves and riding with the Dothraki horde. Normally, Dany was a patient ruler who took a genuine interest in what her Council was saying. But today, when Yara would walk through that door at any minute and sweep Dany into her lean, muscled arms… Could anyone blame her for lacking concentration? “Ahem.” Dany snaps back to the present.

Tyrion Lannister, the brilliant, sardonic dwarf who had advised Dany throughout countless dilemmas and made her laugh when it felt like she would never laugh again, was raising his eyebrow pointedly. The Councillor had finished talking about… Grain? Immigration? No matter. He was done.

“Thank you for your wise words, Councilman Mormont. I will take them under consideration and notify you of my decision shortly. You are dismissed.”

With that, everyone but Tyrion files out of the Queen’s Ballroom.

“Thinking about Yara?”

“Yes, I had hoped she would be here by nightfall.”

“There’s light left yet. Should I send for supper?”

“I suppose. If there’s time, I should really meet with High Septon Sansa. Apparently, she’s brought good news from the North. But all I really want to do is see Yara. If she arrives while I’m in a meeting, I don’t know if I’ll be able to finish the discussion.”

“I could meet with her if you’d like. It’s always a bit weird to talk shop with my ex-wife, especially after the nastiness my darling, dearly deceased family bestowed on her. But I think she’s gotten over all that.”

One of the Queen’s Guard, a small, lithe figure who seems to blend into the tapestries, moved forward.

“She has! My sister remembers your kindness and respects all you’ve done for the good of Westeros. If you don’t mind me interrupting.”

Dany beams at Arya Stark, the Captain of the King’s Guard, Yara’s favorite sparring partner, and one of Dany’s dearest friends. After Dany’s dramatic return to King’s Landing, there had been no shortage of death threats, and Arya had saved Dany and Yara from would-be assassins many a time. Arya divides her time between being head of the Queen’s Guard, instructing female students in the art of combat, and romancing proper young ladies from beneath their fussy old parent’s noses. Yara, in particular, is endlessly tickled by Arya’s heartbreaking.

“Not at all, my friend. How is Sansa?”

“Busy and happy. She’s whipped the new Northern Sept into shape and now has her eye on restoring the one in King’s Landing.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Tyrion said speculatively. “The blighted remains of dragon fire depress me every time I pass by the old one. Cersei was a nasty piece of work.”

There is a moment of tense silence as everyone remembers the fate of Queen Cersei the Mad. Arya, who hates Cersei more than almost anyone, is the first to break the silence.

“I have a proposal. Dany, you stay here, relax, and get everything ready for Yara’s return. I know you’ll both be needing some alone time tonight. Tyrion, you come with me to Sansa and start talk of this new Sept business. Maybe she’ll fill us in on Jon’s new wife. The rest of the King’s Guard can keep guard outside.”

“Excellent proposal.”

And with that, Arya and Tyrion skipped off, joking and teasing the whole time. Tyrion had come to see Arya as a favorite niece, and she him a favorite Uncle. Dany was rather touched by the new bond between Lannister and Stark. Things do change if you will it with enough force.

A knock at the door. Dany finishes slipping into a gauzy, somewhat scandalous gown of pale gray. The diaphanous layers hug every curve of her ample figure, culminating in a plunging neckline that sank past her breasts. Two finely woven bracelets of the highest quality gold weave around her wrists and up her arm to the elbow. She moves swiftly, her light lambskin slippers barely making a sound against the cold marble floor. A servant enters.

She’s a Wildling girl, one of the few who chose not to stay and make their home in the North along the wall, but to travel South to King’s Landing and work as a Castle Servant. Several Dothraki and former slaves from the free cities also made the choice to stay with their Queen, settling down to build new, free, prosperous lives in the flourishing city. The servant quickly arranges a decadent feast of honeyed chicken, Arbor gold wine, dragon peppers, and lemon cake.

Just as the servant leaves, a familiar figure enters. Dany’s heart pounds in delight, and she wordlessly throws herself into Yara’s open arms. Dany cups Yara’s chiseled chin and soft cheeks with her fingers. Yara’s mouth comes down on Dany’s lips, her tongue searching the inner corners of Dany’s mouth. Dany shudders into delight and lets herself fall into the kiss. Everything around them fades to darkness. They are the only people in the world.

THE END

p.s. This is something very different from what I usually do, and I am interested in your thoughts. Do you like this? Would you like a Yara and Dany: Part Two? Are there any other fictional characters you would like me to write as getting happy lesbian endings? Or should I stick with my humorous lists? I’m a massive Game of Thrones fan and particularly enjoyed nerding out to the geography, cuisine, and architecture of King’s Landing. Let me know any requests, and I’ll possibly write a happy ending for your favorite characters. Or continue Yara and Dany’s story. It’s up to you!

p.s.s. If your request is “shut up” feel free to keep that to yourself.

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