Yara Greyjoy's mouth opened, but no sound escaped it as the figure in the throne before Theon and her stood and stepped closer, allowing her two visitors to see her as she finally stepped from the back of her tent. The Ironborn's hand stilled upon the wrist of her other hand, where she had been rubbing the angry red lines of her restraints before that moment. She hadn't had a good glimpse of Daenerys Targaryen until then.
She and her people had not been made to feel very welcome the moment that she had spotted an army and decided to determine whose it was, her interests piqued despite the fact they weren't supposed to have reached Meereen yet. The Dragon Queen's army men had been very suspicious of her and her good intentions, and she had been brought to her tied up like a little prize ── she as well as every last one of her men. With that welcome, she had been very surprised when the soft but firm voice that belonged to Daenerys Targaryen had sent her guards away to have a private talk with her two rather unexpected guests once she had realized who they were ── particularly when Theon had confirmed that they were interested in seeing their forces become one as well.
While Yara desperately failed to notice the strange sideways glance of her brother as he noted her reaction to the woman before them, she did see the way Daenerys lifted one eyebrow, questioningly, at her suddenly helpless expression. Then again, it didn't give the blonde a lot of hope for the darker-haired woman to be the kind of firm leader she would need to even consider taking the Greyjoy men into her coalition. Caught, the Greyjoy woman closed her mouth and rose to her full height, desperately attempting not to give away how very stunned she was at Daenerys' appearance. She had heard a lot of rumors of the Targaryen heir's inhuman beauty, of course, but she had all considered them just that ── rumors. That was, until that moment exactly. She forced herself not to let her grey eyes wander across the woman's body despite the fact that that really was, with her very revealing dress choice, a challenge.
"I am Yara Greyjoy," the brunette spoke after waiting several seconds and no longer expecting Daenerys to speak. As she spoke, she heard the hoarseness of her own spoken words and silently cursed herself for her inability not to be shaken by beautiful women when she was not in the midst of battle. She was a warrior first and foremost, and her desires would never win it from her duty, but she was who she was, and she loved women, and before her was a beautiful specimen. She couldn't not see that, and she couldn't stop it from affecting her in one way or another, and it had clearly seeped into her voice. She cleared her throat from the sticky desire that lined her esophagus and inaudibly chastised herself for never being sated. She had taken a prostitute to bed only a few days ago, and it had been oh so good. She squelched the devilish little voice in the back of her mind that told her that the prostitute hadn't even been close to as enticing as the tall blonde before her. It had been a long time since she had seen such a naturally blonde woman, too. "Theon, my brother, and I fled the Iron Islands with a few men once my uncle admitted to having killed our father and was chosen as the next ruler of the Ironborn, convinced that a female was unfit to do so. I've come here to pledge my loyalty to you and offer you my Ironborn warriors in battle if I can return home as a ruler."
Daenerys' eyes slid from Yara to her brother, whose head was, as usual lately, bowed down, his hands clasped together much like a slave as he appeared to await the next order given. She had heard all of the rumors, too, of what had befallen him while in Winterfell at the hands of the bastard Bolton. She didn't know whether to feel sorry for him or to consider him weak. She returned her gaze to the other Greyjoy. "I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the Unbornt, Mother of Dragons, Khaleesi to Drogo's riders and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. Why shouldn't I rule the Ironborn myself?"
Yara, grey eyes locked on the Khaleesi's silvery blue ones, knew from only looking at the woman, even when she didn't take all of the stories that she had heard about her and about all that she had done in consideration, that it wouldn't be wise to challenge Daenerys' leadership. She would have to put her own need for leadership, at least when it came down to the Ironborn, aside for now. The cogs in her head turned as she attempted to find a good way to word herself, in a way that ensured that Daenerys knew she was putting her foot down but one that also wouldn't make her feel too threatened. Yara Greyjoy had no intention of sitting on the Iron Throne. Maybe in a wild, long-ago dream she had had a vague dream about it all, but for now, first things first… and those first things did not include her sitting on the Iron Throne, ruling the seven Kingdoms of Westeros. She was brought back from her straying thoughts by the unexpected voice of Theon by her side and very nearly caused herself a serious neck injury as she threw her head sideways to look at his profile in utter surprise.
"We're not attempting to be in your way of what rightfully belongs to you," he spoke, at first slightly hesitant and then surer and more certain as he slowly lifted his tired and weary gaze to regard the woman he was addressing his words to straight in the eye, "but you need someone you can truly rely on right under you, who will manage to lead all of the Ironborn as a clan in your coalition, like the Unsullied listen to their ruler, who, in turn, bows down before you and you alone. Whose loyalty will be bigger, you reckon, than a fellow female warrior taking what is hers much like you do?"
To say that she was stunned at the accurate words of her brother was an absolute understatement, and Yara Greyjoy just stood there gazing perplexed at her little brother for a long moment before she remembered the Mother of Dragons and turned her gaze aside to look up at her. She was met with a most peculiar expression. Daenerys seemed genuinely contemplative, taking in Theon's words. Yara could see that she knew they made sense for a brief moment before her face returned to one devoid of emotion or feeling or thought. As the blonde woman before her stared at them blankly, not or no longer giving anything away upon her countenance ── no smile, no crease, no nothing ── Yara couldn't help but fleetingly trail her eyes down her body before meeting her gaze once more, noting clear shapes and curves in her revealing dress that very much pleased the Greyjoy female... and she wished she hadn't, because curiousness pulled, made her all the more likely to let her eyes fully wander… and she was not the only one who had noticed her obvious attraction to Daenerys Stormborn.
As she ripped her gaze away at last from the brunette, Daenerys Targaryen focused her attention upon the woman's brother. She could see that he felt much less sure of himself again already, his hands lightly shaking despite still holding his head high. "Your words make sense, Theon Greyjoy. Now, leave us while I have a serious talk with your sister."
Yara meant to speak and tell the Dragon Queen that whatever she had to say could be said before her brother, Balon Greyjoy's other heir, but the look that the blonde cast in her direction next and the harshness in her eyes somehow abruptly stopped her ── that as well as the fact that Theon seemed all too pleased with the suggestion of departure from the Queen's chamber, turning on his heel without a word and taking the few steps necessary between him and the door. Theon Greyjoy had already pulled it open and halfway disappeared through it before Yara fully knew what was going on, eyeing his quickly-retreating back. By then, she knew that it was pointless to speak and let him go. She would have to give him a lot more strong ales to get her brother back. She followed him with her deep grey eyes until the other Greyjoy had disappeared, the heavy door falling closed, leaving her alone with the blonde.
"Maybe you believe I am an easy one."
At those firm words, Yara turned back and looked at the blonde queen, nearly causing her the second neck injury of the night. She was taken aback at the words that bled from Daenerys' mouth. She had matched several words in her head to the woman before her, but 'easy' was not one of them at all. "I don't believe you are an easy one," Yara spoke truthfully.
Raising an eyebrow again to convey her disbelief, Daenerys calmly took a few steps closer to the Ironborn female until she stood right before her, nothing but a foot between them anymore, chests nearly touching. She suppressed her urge to grin at the very obvious reaction she caused in Yara Greyjoy, watching as the brunette's breath clearly hitched at her mere presence. She had noted her attraction to her from the very first second when she stood from her throne and allowed Theon and her to truly see her.
She had been aware of both males' and females' attraction to her for as long as she remembered, but it was something different, somehow, to see such a fierce warrior incredibly captivated by her without ever even having spoken to one another before. By the same token, all she knew about the woman before her had been brought to her by rumors alone, and they had all portrayed Yara as the most fierce of warriors anyone had met, over Brienne of Tarth. The fact that she had still managed to impress her then, in such a way, tickled her, even if she knew she had to still thread carefully. Yara's response to her couldn't possibly have been faked, though.
"I may have been submissive once, but I'm not anymore. I will take my place on the Iron Throne, and I will not let anyone be in my way to do so," she spoke, deliberately leaving her words ambiguous, as to what she was talking about exactly. Truthfully, she was talking both about her position and her behavior between the sheets. Part of her was very curious as to which interpretation Yara had given to it. Despite the fact her response came mostly to one meaning, she suspected Yara's interpretation ran in a... different direction.
As she swallowed the sticky bile in her throat she had never even felt forming there, Yara forced her mind not to wander at what the woman before her had said. She couldn't possibly have meant anything else but her position, she kept telling herself. Unable to rip her deep hazel eyes away from Daenerys Stormborn, she said, "I have no reason to believe anything different than the words coming from your mouth, nor do I have any intention to test them and try to prove them incorrect. I know I would fail to do so, so I might just as well save myself the energy."
At last, a small indication of feeling or emotion came upon Daenerys' lips as she smirked at Yara in a knowing way. After all of the years during which she had been toyed with and used, now that she had the power to be on the opposite side, Daenerys rarely didn't take advantage of it. "Prove your loyalty to me," she said when she closed the last distance between them and brought their chests to barely an inch between them. "Prove your belief of my words, and I will consider your suggestion, Yara Greyjoy."
Yara didn't quite mask her surprise or her confusion very well at the words from the Dragon Queen, and she opened her mouth to ask exactly what Daenerys meant when suddenly she felt her breath hitch even before her brain registered Daenerys had taken a step closer, their bodies pressed together already before she grasped the back of the brunette's head and guided her mouth down to hers. Perplexed, Yara's eyes opened wide in incredible surprise before she became malleable under the taste and the feel of the soft lips of the woman right before her. Strangely enough, she felt no need to dominate the woman and fight for dominance, as she clearly guided their kiss, deciding the pace, the movements, as their mouths moved together, tongues quickly delving into each other's mouths.
Daenerys seemed to be very well aware of the other woman somehow, though. Just as Yara began to feel slightly bolder and thought of beginning to raise a hand up to touch Daenerys' hair, too, to really grow into the kiss, the blonde ripped her mouth away as she kept her one hand upon the back of the brunette's head for a moment longer before she retracted. The look exchanged between the blonde and the brunette was electric, especially from Daenerys' side, before she grasped the Ironborn's wrist, pulling it hard before letting go, the unexpectedness of it all making Yara Greyjoy lose her balance and smack down upon the cold tile floor at Daenerys' feet.
Barely catching her fall with her elbows just one second before she would have hit her dark head hard against the tile, Yara opened her mouth to speak, having to take a long moment to regain the breath that had been pushed from her lungs with her unexpected fall. She didn't have time to make up her mind and to decide if she should be turned on or affronted before a sandaled foot came down right above her core. The blonde didn't build any pressure, though. "Show me how submissive you'll be for me," Daenerys dared with a grin at her obvious victory.