Headcanoned with an beta-ed by graceonce

Rated M for language.

8 Months Before the Battle of Visenya's Hill

He was bored.

So incredibly bored.

He let out a long sigh punctuated with a grunt at the end to mark how bored he truly was but no one seemed to notice, not his guards or his servants. And that annoyed him more than bored him. At least it was a new emotion.

He sat up in his chair and smacked the palm of his hand down onto his armrest, the marble cold even through his sleeve. "I'm bored," he called out.

The group in front of him paused in the middle of what they'd been doing, two dwarves, a pig, and a man so skinny he could have fit in a tiny box, and they stared. They glanced between each other, shifting awkwardly beneath the young man's grey eyes. He stood up and pressed his fists to his hips, pushing his chest out. He watched their greedy little eyes run up and down his fine cloak and garments, the stripes on his shirt the newest fashion in the free cities, where they were not, and he tugged on his belt lightly to show off the jeweled hilt to his sword. He wished now it was Valyrian steel, but it wasn't like they would notice the difference. He took the time to wonder why he showed it off to them in any case and he made a mental note to ask his blacksmith for a new weapon, longer, larger, deadlier. Maybe the greed in their eyes would be turned to fear then.

"I need new slaves," he finally announced to the quasi empty room. "Because I'm bored." There it was, the fear he so wanted and craved in their eyes.

"We can try something else, sir," the thin man said softly, carefully. He twisted himself around to a standing position, a proper one. "We can make a new act."

"No, no it's too late for that, I think. You won't have my attention again. Guards? Please escort them out."

One dwarf stood from where he'd been sitting with his animal. "Sir, you said we wouldn't be fed unless we finished the act-"

"I know."

"Can't we finish it?"

The man stomped his foot on the floor. "No. Leave." The three were hauled to their feet by the guards that'd stepped forward and dragged out, the pig squealing in one's arms as it tried to heave itself out of the grip around its middle.

He watched them go with a frown. This was no good. He earned money from his slaves and from the shows he put on with them, the ones he himself orchestrated, but if he was bored with his own property then the crowds would be, and then he would be destitute.

It was dramatic, he would certainly not be destitute if he lost his show, only without pull at the Hall. And he did not want that. And he didn't want to lose his show either. It was his guilty pleasure, after all.

He stomped his foot again. "Mother!" He marched down the short stairs of his day room and crossed into the hallway, headed for the solar. "Mother mother mother!" His last call was ended with a small jump on the marble tiles. He half-skipped into the room, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Mother, I've just put the old fools away, and I need new ones."

Gloria Mott looked up, slightly taken aback at the sudden barge into her room as she finished a point in her tapestry, but she managed a small smile and a little 'Oh' as she shook her head. "Again, Dandy?"

"Yes, mother, again." He sat himself down across from her, dragging a chair to the middle of the room. "And so I need new fools. I'm bored."

"My sweet boy, you so easily are," she sighed lightly before tilting her head up in thought. "Have you thought of the market?"

"I went last week, mother, there was nothing good. There never is," he complained. He threw his head back as he slumped into his chair. "No. The slavers need to find new stocks." He stomped his foot lightly. "Dwarves are boring."

"Would you be willing to hear some fantastic news, then?" Gloria began with a light song in her voice. "A ship from the free cities was seen dropping anchor earlier today, and you and I both know that illegal slaves are of the best quality, never used."

"Did one really?"

"I had it proven. You know how quickly rumors fly, but this one seems to be true," his mother replied.

"This is brilliant." Dandy suddenly stood, smiling widely. "Genius and God sent!" He leaned down to kiss his mother on the forehead. "Surely if I ask-"

"Oh, but not tonight, Dandy, stay in." She said softly. "Stay to eat dinner with me, I'm so lonely without you. And the sun will be falling soon."

He cast a long look outside the glassless windows at the light high up in the sky. With it being summer it wouldn't set until the gods themselves decided it to. "Mother, I have plenty of time."

"Stay in, Dandy. I'll have the old slaves brought in, the ones you haven't used in a while, the ones you've forgotten we have. Surely they will make you happy, if you do not remember their faces. Perhaps a name? Do you remember old Goran, the one who taught you the songs you used to sing to me? Maybe you can use him."

He grimaced lightly. "Yes." A time when he had wanted to follow in the man's steps, before the weight of his deceased father's responsibilities as a Thirteen to the city had fallen on his shoulders. Responsibilities he rather enjoyed, ruling and trading lives. Sometimes he dreamed of singing again, of playing before a crowd, but they were only dreams. He was an owner now, not a player.

"He's too old, mother. I can't use him. No one cares for songs. The city wants thrills, they want something to stare at, something they will truly pay for. Anyone can sing."

"Only for tonight, Dandy, as a diversion. Stay."

He let out a defeated sigh and sat back down, splaying his legs out as he looked up at the ceiling. "What has Dora prepared then? You know I don't particularly like her cooking." He frowned. "Or her."

"Surely something good, Dandy, I told her you might eat with me."

"How did you know I would?"

"I frequently ask her to."

The young man blew air through his lips. "I wish I had dragons."

Gloria's hands fell into her lap and she sighed, annoyance daring to crawl into her voice. "Dandy, don't talk about work now. Or at dinner. I want to hear none of it while you're with me."

He let his head fall back with a groan.

OOOoooOOO

The mansion he owned, or rather that his mother owned but that would go to him when she died, was a grand old thing in the middle of Qarth. White walls, marble floors, large windows where the sun could shine through and up on a hill, somewhere everyone could see their riches. Somewhere everyone could only guess the amount of gold the Motts hoarded in their treasures.

His title as a Pureborn was enough to make others salivate, no matter the house and no matter the money. He walked down the short steps with a gait in his walk from his porch to his garden, lush and vast and with shade enough to stop the Essos sun from burning his tender skin.

He strolled to the markets, whistling lightly as he did, and he let his eyes rake over the low buildings and tents not far from the port, a cooling sea breeze shifting through his hair. There was a new shop, a large tent hastily put up with some type of class, though Dandy couldn't have been sure from where, of if it was even class or shabby modernism. He sniffed lightly as he passed it, bent on ignoring it, but he heard laughter. Something that was new here in the slave markets.

He turned on his heel, whistling lightly as he moved back to the boutique, the tent, and there he finally noticed the man leaning on one of the wooden posts, overlooking the rest of the shops. The man perked as he watched Dandy make his way back to his lot and he straightened and waved his hand over frantically, excitedly.

This man wasn't from Essos, his skin was too light and his mustache was years late when it came to fashion in Qarth. His clothes were old, worn, but clean and white washed. They fit awkwardly, and it was obvious they were not his but a loan so that he could fit into the crowds around him. Dandy nodded easily at him and tried to peek into the tent, but his view was blocked.

"Welcome to my freaky, freaky, emporium." The man bowed lightly, a certain smile tugging at his lips, and he looked the short ways up into Dandy's eyes, his gaze raking over the young man's form before settling there.

"Freaky emporium?" Dandy echoed, raising his eyebrow.

"It's hot out in this sun, would you perhaps enjoy a fresh drink? I have wine from the Arbor."

The young Mott shifted on the balls of his feet but nodded, feeling rather parched after all. The tent's flap was pushed aside and he walked into the dimly lit circle of a room. It was bigger than he had expected and partitioned from the middle down so that whatever the man sold could not be seen, and it irked him slightly.

"Here, here, good sir," the man said, pulling him to a low table. "Whatever you wish for is yours." He glanced over Dandy. "You look like a lover of the finer things, and I have the finer things."

"What is your name, seller?"

The man shrugged lightly as he poured dark wine into two bronze cups, handing one to Dandy. "Stanley."

"Is that all? Just Stanley?"

He smiled. "Just Stanley."

"What do you have to sell that could possibly explain this waste of my time then, Stanley?"

"A little birdy told me on the wings of the wind," the man said as he shifted his weight. "That you were looking for new acts."

"Your birds would be correct," Dandy sniffed. "But know that if I find them, I will shoot them down."

"Fair enough. But surely I can help with your little issue," Stanley replied. "It shouldn't be hard."

"You wouldn't know of my tastes."

"No, no, believe me. Come." Stanley waved him over as he walked to the flaps within the tent. He threw it open and tugged Dandy into the room, and the young man gasped.

There, in the center and sitting on the chair, was a legless woman.

"Suzy, say hello to this fine gentleman."

The woman nodded tightly but looked away quickly, leaving her body, or what there was of it, to Dandy's staring. He rounded her, looking for the trick Stanley looked like he could have come up with, but could find none. This woman was quite literally without legs. Her waist ended in a stump.

"Amazing," he breathed.

"Quite so. I have more."

Dandy looked up, suddenly feeling giddy. "You do?"

Stanley smiled. "A whole panoply."

OOOoooOOO

He had from the man and out of his large range of choices bought a blonde slave who though she hid it, held herself up by wooden legs and the occasional support of a wall, a chair. She hid it well, the stumps. Of course he had known right away, she'd come at half price compared to the usual woman at her age. She was fit, at least there was that. But she was a leader, and with her and her contract came other freaks like her, a whole crew of them that she herself had bought before being found out as no more than a run away slave and being brought back to justice, and in an hour he'd doubled his show's talents. He had left Elsa Mars to run the less exciting train of thoughts that the show begged for, and he gained all that was to offer. It was a good buy, this woman.

With her had come a myriad of slaves then, each more interesting than the rest. None had last names, of course. They were bought, they had need for none.

Though Elsa held the center stage at his theater on the edge of the city, she had her men and women run the foundations. Ethel, the fat, bearded one, took care of the show's smooth sailing, the transitions between each act that had men and women roaring with laughter, no matter their status, while her son (he'd come at the quarter of a price, basically useless because of his three clawed fingers on each hand), Jimmy, took the money, or tried to, that he was given by the show-goers.

He'd paid what he'd have given for a simple meal at a tavern for the fortune teller, Esmeralda. She was pretty, and she might bring in money at a brothel, but no one would pay more than a few copper coins. She was better sweeping floors.

But what had caught his eye, or both of them, were the twins. The conjoined twins. Something he'd only ever seen in animals that died days after their birth. The left head called herself Dot, the right Bette, and though they shared the same body in what could only be a miracle of life itself, they were nothing alike. But Dandy liked them both. He'd paid a little more for them, the seller had been reluctant to let them go.

He whistled lightly as he entered his theater, the arcs above him letting the sunlight into the portico and enlightening his steps. Stairs on either of his sides went up to the steps that circled around the half arena, but he ignored them and walked through the wooden door, the metal hot, and into the sanded scene.

He'd wanted to change the floors to something more sturdy, something one wouldn't sink into, but blood wasn't rare in a show, and the sand soaked up the red liquid better. It cleaned better. He didn't want collateral damage on a marble floor he had done.

Jimmy, the boy with a sea creature's limbs, was already in the middle of the scene, looking up at the steps and narrowing his eyes beneath the hot sun. He was pointing up at the steps, calling to one of the helping hands. Dandy strolled over to him, taking a moment to watch where he was waving his mutilated hands at, but he couldn't tell what he was doing.

"Elsa asked, sir," Jimmy suddenly said, not waiting to be prompted by his new owner. He knew from the short hours he'd spent already with the man that he was quick to anger. "She wants the stage moved upwards, so that we can fit more stuff in the back. The basement ain't enough."

Dandy nodded. He listened to the boy's accent, still after the last few days trying to figure out where it was from, and still without an answer.

"We'll be done before showtime, though," the boy added. He reached easily for the pouch at his side and took a long drink, but only after asking Dandy silently if he wanted some, and water dribbled down his chin. "Hopefully the heat will go down by then, Eve didn't do so well last night."

"She won't be in, tonight," Dandy said. He clapped Jimmy on the back with a strong hand. "You'll be in the pit today." He grinned. The young man swallowed heavily but nodded.

The pit.

The basilisks.

Jimmy had already seen a helping hand being torn to shreds by the venomous lizards, the things as big as mastiffs, and he knew for sure he didn't want to meet them face to face. They loved heat, moved easily in it, fluidly. He prayed now that the sun hid behind rare clouds so that the beasts' muscles stiffened. Then, maybe, he would have a chance to live.

At least the crowds were excited when the time came, they shook the stands and roared and called his name as he was pushed into the arena, staring up the fifteen foot walls. The gate at his back rattled open, the old metal creaking as it rose, rust shaking off in flakes, and he turned slowly to watch golden eyes stare back.

Three reptiles walked slowly into the arena, flexing in the warm sun and letting their frills expand as they hissed.

The boy tightened his grip on the spear he'd gratefully been given, but began to run as soon as the basilisks lunged for him, maws open wide. He beat one back, but the other two knocked into his legs and he struggled to remain standing, a cold sweat overtaking him as his courage disappeared. A large tail swiped at his feet.

Jimmy gasped out as he fell backwards, his head snapping against the ground, and he took a moment to taste the blood in his mouth and to let the world spin around him. He sat up painfully, eyes widening as he watched one of the things scramble to him from a dozen feet off, and grabbed for the spear he'd let go, yelling as he stood and began to run to the edge of the arena.

"Help me up!" he yelled. "Help me up!"

Eve stared him down, glancing around helplessly as she looked for something to hoist him with, but Dandy was suddenly at her side and Jimmy's hopes faltered.

"Entertain them, Jimmy!" he called. "One of you has to die, you know how it works!"

The young man let out a curse as he skidded sideways on the sand, the basilisk running into the wall behind him a moment later. It came at him again, hissing and snapping its maws, and he thrust his spear at it, yowling, as if it would help his aim or the force behind it.

"Please, sir, let him out," Eve begged. Dandy shook his head, grinning as he leaned over the side of the railing to see Jimmy better. The stands erupted in cheers as the boy tripped and caught himself, fending off another creature.

Dandy scowled, his name being called, and he came back to the safe side of the wall to watch Ethel running up the short stand steps and to his side, out of air, framed by Meep and Paul and other freaks he hadn't bothered to learn the names of. "What?"

"Sir, I'll do anything, I beg of you don't let him die in there!" the woman pleaded, grabbing onto his robes. He bristled and pulled away. "Please, please I'll give you anything you want-"

"Oh, shut up!" Dandy yelled, stomping his foot down. "You're ruining everything! You're ruining my fun!" He grabbed at one of his slaves and pushed him towards the steps. "Fetch a rope!"

It was thrown into the arena a short minute later, and Jimmy was scrambling up it, the basilisks ripping at his calves, his knees. Eve reached down and helped him as best as she could, Ethel throwing him a hand too and Paul doing as best as he could.

The boy fell onto the stands, the crowds roaring around him as he cried out in short pants. "Thank you-!" Jimmy finally burst out, breath heaving out as he looked up. "Thank you sir, gods thank you-"

Dandy was scowling, the veins in his neck bulging. His hand fastened on Meep's cloak and he threw the little man over the side.

OOOoooOO

She'd buried the boy along with the others, looking down at his mangled body in the grave they'd dug him outside the city walls.

It'd taken almost ten minutes to wrangle the basilisks off of Meep, their jaws catching on limbs whenever someone dared to reach in close to grab at the slave. He'd screamed and screamed and then he'd stopped. Eve'd been the one to carry him out, the crowds long gone and his arm ripped from his socket, threatening to drag on the ground as he trailed blood. And she'd been the one to keep her composure at the funeral, or what they'd called the half hour they'd taken underneath the sweltering sun to dig him into the ground, far enough where the vultures wouldn't dig him out. At least Dandy had given them that time.

Elsa, in a show of solidarity, had given them the night off after having decided to push off their duties until the morning. Though she herself hadn't joined them at the dinner tables, choosing instead to hole herself up in her private tent.

Eve's arm was prodded and she looked up into Jimmy Darling's face, the boy's cheeks blotchy with dried tears and his chin wavering lightly.

"Pass me something."

She watched him with a light frown, taking a second to glance over his shoulder at the somber faces the other troupe members held onto, themselves hidden far in the drink.

"Jimmy, I don't know," the gargantuan woman said softly.

"Ah, shaddap," the young man groaned. "Just do it, Eve."

She passed him a tankard of brown ale and he stared into it with glassy eyes for a moment before downing it easily. "Are you alright?"

"Do you think I'm alright?" he grouched back. "Do you think anyone is alright? This man, this boy, was with us for years and now he's dead, all because we were bought by some-!" his voice dropped to a harsh whisper, as did his backside into his seat as he'd raised with his words. "-By some crazy person who'd rather see us all dead than let his arena empty out."

"He's a business man. And you're a slave. So am I, and so was Meep. You can't change that," Eve said softly. She shook her head. "He'd have died anyway, you know that. He wasn't healthy, wasn't as strong as the rest of us. The heat would have killed him."

"Why couldn't I change that?" Jimmy snapped back. "I could."

"No. You can't." She stood to her full height and he craned his neck back until he could stare up at her, frowning quizzically as she grabbed for his drink. "You've had enough."

"I've barely started-!" he protested.

"You'd started before you came in. You're spewing nonsense. Go to bed, Jimmy, you need it. Sleep it off."

He pushed back angrily from the table, ignoring the gazes turned to him as he let out an angry curse at the woman and stomped away, steps unsure. He didn't go to his tent like he'd been asked to, instead deciding to wander around the arena where, hours prior, he'd almost died and where his friend had died.

The boy turned abruptly, arms swinging low, at a noise off in a corner, somewhere behind a column, and he hollered shortly.

"Get outta there, show yourself! I ain't in the mood for no games."

There was a scuffle, two voices whispering angrily at each other, and he watched with blurry eyes the figure come out of the shadows.

"Oh, hey girls," he slurred, head down. "Sorry about yelling, I'm not in a great mood. I'm grieving, you know?"

"With alcohol, Jimmy?"

He looked up into the Siamese twins' right gaze, the girl's eyebrows together in worry and confusion, her voice soft and sweet. He shrugged angrily.

"You don't usually drink," Bette added. The twins stepped forward as one, their hands reaching out for him but he stepped back, steps unsure.

"Maybe we should just leave him," Dot said, her scowl hard. "He doesn't want our help."

"I don't need help!" Jimmy snapped back.

The two shared a black gaze between them, Bette suppliant in her expressions but Dot unforgiving in hers, and the boy let his head fall, knowing none spoke to the harder headed girl like he had and was left unscathed.

Save for her sister.

He sat in the sand, his head lolling forward as he fought to stay upright. Bette twisted her fingers into the top of their skirt, tugging and pulling at it and Dot reached over to slap her hand away angrily, Jimmy watching from beneath them, hand against his temple.

"I don't need help," he repeated softly. "I'm fine."

"You're not and it's understandable, what you're feeling?" Bette shook her head. "You know you can talk to us, we've been in the same troupe for how many years now? You helped us when we first arrived, let us help you now."

"He doesn't want help," Dot put in, teeth gritted. Bette glanced at her and dropped her gaze.

"You two weren't at his funeral," the boy muttered. "Do you not care?"

"We're not one for goodbyes, you know that. You knew that when you buried Meliane."

He looked up, past them and into the night sky, mouth open. "It was a sea burial for her. What a gal. She drifted right off. Her tail helped her until the end."

"Maggie told us." Bette nodded.

"Not that we'd asked her anything," Dot muttered.

Jimmy turned his usually sharp gaze on her, eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything.

They stood by him for a few more minutes, awkwardly shifting their weight as he slowly turned his eyes back to the sky, murmuring to himself as they fought inwardly themselves.

Dot turned away sharply from looking at her sister, silently fuming. "We have to go, Dandy'll want us. We told him we were just stepping out for some air."

Jimmy scoffed, shoulders by his ears. "Still screwing the guy, huh?"

"He paid for us, Jimmy," Bette whispered. "And he treats us well."

"Until he treats you like Meep."

"Stop it," Dot hissed. "He was angry, that's all. You make him angry, we don't."

"I forgot, you're his favorites."

"You're piss sorry when you're drunk, Jimmy Darling," the left head replied. "To think I liked you all those years ago."

"Get off my back," he growled.

"Get off of yours."

The twins turned on their heel and stomped away, leaving him in the middle of the arena alone.

OOOoooOOO

"He's just taking it hard, he'll be fine," Maggie Esmeralda sighed. She held her hand out and a pipe was passed to her. She took a heavy lungful, sighing out again with the smoke, and waved her playing card laden hand vaguely at the Siamese twins. "He always is in the end, after he's fucked a cartload and drunken himself into a coma."

"What a charming thought," Dot deadpanned.

"I don't see why you care," the blonde said. "Gimme a card, Paul." She grimaced at her new hand. "You two dated him, it didn't work. You're not responsible for him. Hell, you're as responsible for him as I am, and I don't give two shits about him." She threw a card down, eyebrows raised. "And I gave him three years of my life."

"We all make mistakes," Paul said from beside her. "I'm folding."

"Says the married man," Maggie replied. "Already? R'hllor almighty. Salty, give your cards already."

The pinhead laughed as he threw his cards at her, and she groaned.

"I'm ten gold poorer," she announced. "I knew Desiree shouldn't have taught you how to bluff." She turned back to the twins. "Look, all I'm saying is that you live your life and he lives his." She narrowed her eyes. "You don't still love him, do you?"

"I don't think I ever did," Bette said softly. She glanced sideways at Dot and her sister bristled, avoiding her gaze.

"He's not good news, Dot," Maggie murmured.

"When you're a whore, nobody is," Dot spit back. They stood abruptly, Bette biting her lower lip apologetically, and walked away from the playing table.

Esmeralda dropped her new hand and marched after them, grabbing onto Bette's elbow and pausing them long enough to link her arm with the softer of the two girls. "I know we had our differences before," she finally said. "I know we fought and I know we...well I know I wasn't very nice to you when it came to him, but you know you can talk to me, right?" Bette nodded but Dot ignored her, trying to quicken their pace. "I'm there for you."

"What do you care?" Dot asked, nose flaring.

"Girls, freaks, have to stick together, don't they?" Maggie smiled sadly.

"Where's your second head? Are you hiding it somewhere?"

Bette gave a soft "hey" with her frown, pouting at her sister, but Dot ignored her once more.

The blonde looked away, sighing in the unusually cold night. "We've talked about this."

"You don't have to get naked to make your life," the left head growled. "You don't have to show anything you don't want to, your entire being is completely normal until you decide it not to be." She glanced quickly at her sister. "We literally cannot hide."

"And if I don't, then I'll be done in worse than you," Maggie muttered. "You know why I hide in my tent, why I eat alone. There's something alluring about a girl with two heads, or two girls with one body. There's nothing cute about a vampyhr."

Dot sneered, but had nothing to say.

"You're not a monster," Bette said gently. She tightened her hold on the girl's arm around hers.

"But we are?" Dot demanded.

"Don't be that way," her sister pleaded.

"All she has to do is sit in her tent all day and avoid the sun, in the dark what do we look like? A two headed girl hiding!" She ripped Maggie away from her sister forcefully. "You sit beneath your pretty little umbrellas and people just think you're a little spoiled but they ignore it because you're still so pretty!"

"You weren't forced to stand in the blistering sun for hours on end as a child until your skin broke in a million places and your scars themselves bled!" Maggie yelled back. "You say I'm so fucking pretty but I was forced to wear a mask when I performed so that I could look somewhat normal, so my parents wouldn't get in trouble back in Braavos! Do you want to see the rest of me? Do you?" She scrambled for the back of her shirt, tugging it over her head with such intensity that she had troubles getting out of it. She stood before the twins, bare chested and her skin raised in boils from collarbone to navel, angry welts that hung in clumps on her skin, some parts of her skin completely fair while others were marred until she looked like coral itself. "Fucking stare then!"

"Put your shirt back on."

"Why aren't you staring?" Maggie demanded. She followed the girls as they turned away from her, a blush running up Bette's chest. "Are you too scared now? Am I monstrous enough?"

"Have you no shame?" Dot snapped back.

The girl laughed incredulously. "Shame! You speak of shame! People pay you to find out if your body has two vaginas and you speak of shame?" She pushed the twins lightly, her hand against Bette's shoulder. "I lie like I breathe and I take customers' money for it, I spin them pretty tales of love and fame and riches and I get paid for it, do you think I have no shame? Or maybe you'd like me to speak about how I led people to their deaths for assassination contracts when I was younger? How I lured them with a bat of my eyelashes? Don't think that because we don't run in the same circles that I have no shame, you don't define the word for me."

Dot went to speak but Bette stopped her with a light noise, her fingers reaching for her sister's balled up fist. She gave her a pleading look, grimacing along with it, and Dot blew air out of her nose in response, dark eyes on the girl.

"Let go of my arm," she finally growled.

Maggie did as she was told, nails raking down her skin as she backed away. "I'm sorry." She reached for her fallen shirt, taking a moment to pull it back over her head, flushed.

"We are too," Bette said quickly. "We shouldn't have. We know you're just trying to help, don't we Dorothy?" Her sister sneered, teeth bared and a remark on her tip of her tongue for the girl, but she fought it.

She glanced at Bette. "Don't call me Dorothy."

"Dorothy?" Maggie echoed. "Your name is Dorothy?" The anger had dissipated from the blonde's hazel eyes and she was now smiling lightly, teeth showing with her awe.

Dot turned to watch her, eyes narrowed. "And your name is really Maggie Esmeralda?"

Maggie shook her head. "It's a stage name." She shifted her weight and looked away. "Sorry about yelling, I, I don't usually."

The right head nodded tightly. "Sorry about attacking you."

"Do you-" The blonde sighed. "Would you like to get dinner with me? I'd feel better about this."

"We are a little hungry," Bette said softly. She glanced at Dot, smiling hopefully. "It'd make you feel better too, right? It'd make her feel better," she assured the girl. Maggie nodded and took Dot's arm in hers, sighing as she leaned her forehead on her shoulder.

"You really don't have to touch me," Dot sniffed.

"Do you really mind?"

"You're letting go as soon we walk into that bar."

Maggie smiled and leaned back against her.

OOOoooOOO

"Mother?"

Gloria Mott looked up, lightly surprised at the sudden scowl her son wore, and she smiled lightly. "What is it, dearest?"

"Tell me I don't have to go to the meeting today," he replied. He took on a pleading look. "Please, mother."

"You have to attend to your duties, Dandy darling," she soothed back. "If you don't take of our family, our assets, who will?" She stood to face him, letting the sewing she'd been working on drop into her chair, and placed her hands around his jaw. "You're the man of the house now, aren't you, Dandy? Haven't you been?"

"Yes, mother," he replied. "I just get so annoyed having to sit there and listen and-" He groaned, looking away. "Those men dare question my authority, as if my father had not been one of the Thirteen before me."

"Is today a decision day?"

"Gods no, just news," he responded. "Which is even more boring. I'll have to sit there and listen and I'll yawn. I'd rather stay in, or go to the arena, there I can enjoy my belongings." He ignored his mother's light grimace when she tried to hide it.

He fitted himself into his best robes, though the council of the Thirteen were the richest men in Qarth, descendants of the deposed King of Qarth himself (save for the warlock envoy), they tried hard to appear just as rich as they claimed to be, and as owner of the chair of the Slave King he had had skulls molded out of gold and silver and precious gems, little ones attached to his belt from chains of forged metal.

Most recently he'd had a ring done in the same fashion, this one with conjoined heads.

He walked into the council chamber where thirteen thrones sat in a semi circle and he took his seat, finding half of them already taken, the Silk King, the Copper King...The young man sneered as he shifted in his throne but they only had to wait a dozen minutes for the rest of the council to come in from the heat and into the cool stone room.

The first man was from Astapor, each month he came to speak of his Unsullied but the city had no need for them, not with her high ramparts and the desert surrounding her. He was sent away easily, bowing as he swore he would come back. The warlock at the end of the line laughed lightly, his giggles wheezed out of a thin throat.

They were spared from Braavos's banker, this month free of loans as Dandy himself had sold enough slaves to build with money from the vaults and not from someone else's pockets, and for that the twelve others were grateful.

The Westerosi was rare, his coming was bi-yearly as he served as spy for all of Slaver's Bay, but Ser Angus stood before them, his grin as wide as his outstretched hands as he bowed and greeted them.

"You are early," the Copper King announced, his back rigid.

"As I am," the black man replied. He gave them a charming smile and Dandy couldn't help but give it back. "I come with news from King's Landing."

"What should we care of the Westerosi capital?" the Bronze King murmured. "The Lannister King is dead, the seven bells have tolled."

The Silk King leaned forward in his seat. "And who rules the seven kingdoms the bells tolled for?"

"His wife."

The Thirteen fell back in their thrones, all amused and Dandy smug.

"Would that last long?" the warlock mused in a breath.

"Women cannot rule cities, much less nations, and never seven," the Copper King replied forcefully. "Men wage war and take thrones, raise sons to do the same. She will fail in her endeavor."

"Westeros will implode," his neighbor added. "We will have nothing with her."

Dandy glanced at him, raising his chin from his balled up fist, eyes wide. "Nothing?"

"What would you have us do?"

"Take over!" he exclaimed. "If Qarth is the greatest city that ever was or will be, can it not make of Westeros its greatest conquest that ever was or will be?"

"And avoid Essos in this conquest of yours? Your dreams are too big, Slave King."

"They are weak," Dandy continued angrily. "Fragmented were they before but broken are they now."

"And with what army, Slave King? Your freaks?"

The twelve laughed.

"I have slaves up and down these coasts, I have money enough to buy from Astapor, I could march and catch that man right now and demand of him ten thousand of his eunuchs! I have money!"

"You will find no help from us, or any alliance. If you leave here you leave your seat as a Thirteen, as a Pureborn of Qarth. Your father was told the same thing when he left for the seven kingdoms."

"Perhaps if you go," the warlock smiled. "You'll actually reach their cities?"

Dandy stood, his cloak gripped tightly in his fist. "I'll reach their cities, and I'll take them."

He didn't pay attention to the rest of the conversation, his mind running as he stared ahead, knee jiggling beneath him, and when they were let out he ran for Angus, the man traveling down the building's steps.

"Ser Angus!"

The man turned, his frown turning into a smile. "Lord Dandy," he said. "Future king of Westeros."

Dandy scowled. "Are you mocking me or are you behind me?"

"Behind you, of course. No one cares for lions," Angus replied smoothly. The young man held out his hand and the Westerosi took it. "Thank you for the information you've given us today, you will be rewarded one I've taken the capital. Make sure to stop by my arena before you leave the city, yes? I'm sure we'll find you something that'll please you."

Angus gazed him over. "You seem so sure of yourself."

"I have a few ideas."

OOOoooOOO

Elsa's barked orders went unheard and the blonde turned sharply, eyes narrowed in the rising sun, narrowed on the lobster handed boy that hadn't heard, or had chosen not to hear her orders.

She yelled out his name once, twice, and finally she marched over to where he was, his mutilated fingers angrily curled around a banner, and turned him around forcefully.

"Elsa, seven hells!"

"Are you deaf now, vala?"

He bristled at her use of a language that was only partly hers. She'd been born to Astapori Valyrian, and here she was trying to use the High as well as she could, being what she never was, like always. He glared at her momentarily before turning back to his work.

"What do you want?"

"Curb your tongue, Jimmy, remember who saved you as a child," she hissed. "Remember who got us here in the first place," he spit back. He glanced down at her legs momentarily, accusingly, but looked away when she deigned follow his gaze. "What do you need?"

"Eve needs help with the banner at the door, she can't climb up, you know she's afraid of heights."

"I'm a lobster boy, not a monkey boy."

But he dropped his work and grabbed his wooden ladder and made his way to the tallest woman in Essos, Eve watching him carefully as he set up. She looked him over once, her nose wriggling in thought.

"Maybe you shouldn't go up, you drank earlier."

"I'm fine, Eve, thank you," he mumbled. "Anyway, I've always wanted to fly," he added jokingly. He slipped on the first step, cursing lightly, and managed on his third try to climb up. He attached himself to the rafters, hanging from both arms and a leg, his other limb loose in the air, and he flung himself over to sit on the horizontal post, wood between his legs. He called down and Eve threw up the banner and its rope and he caught both, giving a small noise when he threatened to tip back. The boy sighed lightly as he tied strings to the rafters, glancing down the few feet between him and Eve, her head tipped back as she watched him. His dark gaze lifted and he watched the sun up in the sky, eyes burning when he looked too long but he wouldn't tear away.

"That's good, Jimmy, come down, okay?"

He nodded and threw his leg over, sitting on the wood like a child at a fountain, legs swinging. "You gonna catch me?"

"Just come down, Jimmy," Eve sighed. "Use the ladder, the last time I tried catching you it didn't work out."

"Do you ever have fun?" he mumbled. He began to slide off, foot reaching for the ladder but he shifted, his eyes blurring over and vertigo hitting him as hard as his migraine. He missed the step and continued to fall, mouth opening in a tight yelp that wouldn't come out as he watched himself tumble to the ground, as if suspended above himself.

He tasted sand and he spit it out, wondering where the metallic taste came from and why the harried voices above him were yelling his name. He turned onto his back, groaning when his shoulder blades hit the ground.

The world kept on spinning.

"Drējī, you make life hard, Jimmy," Elsa spat above him. "Why didn't you say you'd drunk, huh?"

"Glaesan, Elsa," he croaked back. "Glaesan."

"Yes, yes, did you hit your head?"

He shook it and immediately regretted it, feeling as if something was rattling around behind his closed eyelids, his scowl deep, but he wasn't sure if his head had hurt before.

"I don't think he should stand," Eve murmured by him. He dared open an eye, finding the gargantuan woman swimming in his vision.

"I don't think I can," he slurred.

"You can't stay here, not if the āeksio decides to pass by," Elsa muttered. "Get up, Jimmy."

He groaned once, twice, and sat up, a knee coming up as he struggled to find some semblance of balance. The blonde in front of him sighed out and bent over to catch him by his elbows, grunting as she stood him up.

"I'm good, I'm good I-" He tripped to the side, chest heaving. "I'm good."

"We got him, Elsa."

The woman turned, eyes watching the twins and Dot who had spoken up.

"Come on, Jimmy," Bette soothed. "Come on." They both held their arms out and the boy fell into their grip, eyes closing when his head began to throb again.

"Get him back to his tent, put him down for a nap or something," the blonde said. She waved her hand vaguely and the girls nodded, pulling Jimmy closer. "And get him off the drink, seven hells."

"I'm grieving!" Jimmy yelled.

"Get him out!"

The twins dragged the lobster boy back across the sand and into the city of tents the freaks inhabited as he stumbled and mumbled. He fell into his bed when he reached it, his face smashing into his pillow as he moaned brokenly. Bette grimaced when he moved to lean over the edge of the mattress and vomited, insides clearing out onto the dirt floor. Dot groaned in their ear and they went to leave, but Jimmy held out his hand, fingers brushing against the edge of their dress, and they hung back, watching carefully as he tried to stammer out his words.

"I-I'm sorry about yelling at you the other night," he began. He shifted to rest on his pillow, looking up sideways at them. "And about being so mean all those months ago and I just need friends and I'm alone and Meep is dead and it's my fault."

"It's not your fault," Dot said.

"You're not the one who threw him into the pit," Bette added softly.

He looked away at a faraway point. "I should have died instead," he murmured. "I was in there, not him. I should have stayed where I was."

"Jimmy, stop," the harsher head snapped. "Please."

The boy glanced at her, a light smile tugging at his lips. "I haven't heard that word from your mouth in a long time, not said like that."

"Stop it," Dot warned.

"I liked it when you liked me," he continued. "Then we were still touring peacefully and then no one was dead and we didn't have some tyrant as our owner. An owner," he spit.

"Stop talking like that, Jimmy," Bette begged. "You know walls have ears."

"We're in a tent."

The two sighed despite themselves, glancing between them. "Try to sleep, Jimmy-"

"-You'll be better in the morning."

The boy looked to them, frowning lightly. "Would you stay tonight?"

"We-"

"Please, tell 'im you're sick or somethin', stay, I don't want to be alone," he begged.

Just tonight, Bette.

Only tonight?

OOOoooOOO

"More?"

Bette began to shake her head, biting on her lower lip as she played with the glass in her hands, and Dot followed her movement slowly as she stammered out a bashful, "No, thank you."

Dandy nodded, letting himself lean back into his chair as he watched them.

He'd let them go with a dress today, their chest covered from his roaming eyes.

"Desiree is taken with Ser Angus," he informed them. He took a drink and let it rest back on the table.

"Oh, that's good to hear," Bette replied. "Hopefully he's as taken with her?"

He smiled. "Not that I care, as long as she keeps him happy, he pays."

"Would you let him buy her from you?" Dot asked.

"Perhaps, when he and I part ways."

The two shared a glance and Bette spoke softly. "You'd told he rarely stayed in Qarth."

"He and I have plans." His smile widened and he crossed his legs. "Big plans. He'll stay at my home until they're ready to go forward."

"Would you tell us?"

"What wouldn't I tell my favorite girls?" he asked back. The conjoined twins nodded and Bette looked into their lap with their dark eyes when Dot gazed away. The right head reached for her glass, beginning to drink heavily as her sister watched her warily, fingers scratching at the inside of her knee.

"Westeros's king is dead," he finally announced. "And I will be king after him."

"No one runs the country?"

"Oh, his wife," he said, waving the thought away. "She can be easily disposed. No men want a woman running them. I will bring salvation." He let his gaze hold theirs, switching between one pair of dark eyes to the other a moment later. "Every king needs a queen."

The twins nodded in unison, Bette's mouth lightly open as her mind ran and as Dot tried to shut her out. He'd always liked the sweeter head more.

"Your mother found you someone then?" Dot asked.

"She'll be lucky," Bette said quietly.

Dandy smiled. "My mother can keep her girls, my queen is going to be you."

Dot's gaze dropped to the floor, her fingers still against her thigh as Bette's heart rang in her ears, her sister's mouth dry. She bit back a grimace when his fingers came to tilt her chin up, her eyes meeting his.

"My queens are going to be you," he corrected. "The both of you, I cannot choose between beauty and grace, can I?"

"That's impossible," Bette blurted.

"We're whores," Dot added.

"No country would take a whore as their queen."

"And no country would take a two headed whore as their queen."

"I run my country the way I want it run," Dandy bit back. "And if my woman, my women, are whores, then that's that. You think the dead king's queen's reputation is any better?" He held them by their jaws, smiling when Bette pushed into his touch. "You two are my sweet, innocent ones. Marry me, Dot, marry me, Bette."

"That's impossible," Dot echoed.

Dandy stood, suddenly angry. "What will it take? Do you want clothes? Jewels? I will get them for you! Dragons! Westeros is yours to run by my side and if I must I'll take the entire world!" He fell to his knees before them, pleading. "All I want is your hands in mine, all I want is to marry you, the both of you."

"But why?" Bette asked softly.

"You love me back," he responded. He reached for the hem of their dress, pushing one sleeve off a pale shoulder and doing the same with the other. "Be mine." He kissed Dot and kissed Bette and stood them up, leading them to the bed. "Marry me and you'll never want for anything else."

OOOoooOOO

It was a pretty ring, Maggie Esmeralda had to admit it. They were pretty rings.

She'd watched with avid hazel eyes as they caught the dying sunlight when the twins moved to and fro and in between tables, greeting other slaves as they tried to find a seat in between them to eat at. In another life, she'd have thought of stealing them.

In another life, she wouldn't have stopped herself.

She reached them before they had time to sit and pulled them back up by Dot's elbow, grinning. "Hey girls, join me?" Bette glanced her over, noting her long sleeves and her floor length skirt and the scarf around her neck in the murderous heat. "There's enough space in my tent," she added.

"Aren't you scared of rats?" Bette asked.

"In this weather?" Maggie laughed. She softened. "I thought we could spend some time together, I've had so much work I haven't seen you since last week." Dot nodded and they stepped back from the wooden benches, plate held firmly in between Bette's slim fingers.

Maggie had pulled all the stops for her workplace, only a sliver of light passed through the heavy midnight blue cloth that the tent consisted of and candles were haphazardly placed around the room, giving it a soft, hazy glow. The girl took her time to clear her table from the clutter before setting down her plate and reaching for the twins', placing it down by hers. She motioned to the chair and the girls sat before she did, pressing her skirt down.

She smiled. "So?"

Dot's eyebrow raised. "So, what?"

"The rings," Maggie said. She shifted in her seat. "Are you going to explain? I don't think anybody here makes wage enough for those."

"They were presents," the harsher head replied. She reached for her fork and held it out to Bette, she'd been the one to eat at lunch.

"From Dandy."

"That wasn't a question."

The blonde shrugged. "It's his style." She bit into salad. "What's the occasion?"

"Marriage."

The girl choked back her gasp, her lungs ripping as she coughed out, fist to her chest. Bette reached over and patted her back lightly as Dot grimaced for them both. She looked up, hazel eyes wide. "What?"

Bette blushed. "He wants to marry us."

"And you said yes?"

"What would you have us do? He owns us," Dot said quietly. "Anyway, he's a great match. We won't need anything ever again."

"You hate him, Dot."

"But Bette likes him, don't you? It's a sacrifice for a better life, Maggie." Dot looked away. "He said we could stop working."

"And it's not like we'd forget about you, or the others," Bette added softly.

Maggie watched them, her eyes flicking between the sisters and to the ceiling as she scowled. She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. "You're pregnant."

Bette's eyebrows shot up. "How did you-"

"Fortune teller," Dot snapped.

"Is this why you've said yes?"

"It's part of it."

"Be quiet, Bette."

Maggie's scowl deepened. "We're friends, aren't we? So why hide things?"

The twins stared back, unwilling to respond.

The girl narrowed her gaze and slowly, achingly, she undid her grip on herself to point at the girls' waist. "Whose child is that?" she asked.

"Dandy's."

"Look at me when you say that, Bette," Maggie said. "Look at me when you say that that child is the Slave King's. Look at me and say that you haven't been gazing across tables at a man who isn't your new fiancé. Dot, who fathered that child?" When she received no answer, she cried out. "Bette!"

"It's Jimmy's."

Dot snapped her head sideways. "Bette!"

"Why would you do this? Why would you sleep with him again?" Maggie begged angrily. "You said you were done with him! You promised me you were done with him!" She rounded the table to hiss.

Dot looked away, her hand coming to rest on her and her sister's collarbone. "You don't own us."

"And Jimmy doesn't own you!" the blonde yelled back. "How many times have you seen him then? Do you know how angry Dandy will be when he finds out?"

"We're marrying Dandy, Maggie," Bette said.

"And making him believe that child is his!"

"He won't find out," Dot growled.

"He'll find out when your child is born! He'll look like Jimmy, even if its hands are normal!"

Bette glanced at her sister, stricken. "What would you have us do?"

Maggie grimaced as she turned away. "Play it off as well as you can until you can't anymore. Why wouldn't you tell me about Jimmy? I thought I mattered to you."

"You thought we liked you?"

The blonde turned, her hazel eyes dimming as she tightened her hold on herself. "Dot? Bette."

"Maggie, I'm sorry," Bette said. "I-"

"You played me," Maggie whispered. She laughed lightly. "You played me for him? Of all things you played me for Jimmy the Lobster Boy?" She took a step back, gaze full of hatred now. "You complained to me for weeks to keep me spiteful, is that it? So I- what?-Wouldn't fall for him again and so that you could have him for yourselves?" She shook her head. "And now you're engaged to Dandy."

"Maggie-"

"Just, just stay away from me," Maggie said. She waved her hand at them, turning away. "I'm going to the back, just leave when you want. I want nothing to do with this, I'm not going against your beau. Either of them." She glanced back at them. "I don't want him, I didn't want him. You didn't have to lie to me or spin a tale. I had read it already."

OOOoooOOO

"You."

Maggie's head snapped up, her gaze broken from her trance and the staring contest she'd been having with a speck of dust floating through the rays of sun filtering through her tent cut short. Her hazel eyes grew wide as she watched her master enter her tent and come to stand in front of her and her table, her crystal ball mirroring his reflection and warping it.

Her original one had been stolen from a stand cities away, small and made of glass, but he'd bought her a new one made of actual crystal, rainbows in its shadows. He hadn't wanted his slave, even if only a slave, to own anything but the best. To that she was grateful, at least she looked the part she conned.

"Master Dandy," she breathed. "How can I help you?" She faltered when he threw her a venomous look, so far from the easy glances that he usually gave her, even if it was more for her figure than for her dazzling personality (the thought made her laugh bitterly). She narrowed her hazel eyes lightly, passing it off for the dim lights and she leaned back in her chair, watching him carefully. He took the moment to sit on the chair across from hers, his gaze on her with his wide set eyes.

"The last time I came to you, you hadn't told me the old Westerosi king was dead."

Her hazel eyes glanced at the ball. "You hadn't asked," she replied.

"You know too much, don't you?" He shifted. "You know I aim to rule his country?"

The blonde nodded softly. Everyone knew, she hadn't had to step into the city to hear secrets from stunted mouths.

"Of course you do."

"What are your motivations, if I may?" she added quickly.

He shrugged easily as he stood. "I'm bored, Qarth is boring, I have the resources. Why shouldn't I?

She almost wanted to tell him that it made sense.

He placed his knuckles on her table and leaned in. "It's idiotic of me to come see you this way, to ask your opinion as if I was superstitious before every decision, as if I needed your approval for anything, and now war. But you will come."

"Come?" she echoed. "With you? To Westeros?"

"As will the rest of the freaks, the voyage will be long. I need entertainment, and your wise counsel."

"The rest of the-" She tore her gaze away. "Couldn't that be dangerous?"

"I find the idea of the great Amazon Eve running the head of a line amusing," he said, grinning. "I'll have to have armor fit for her but, well, it'd be worth it."

"Not everyone can go," she whispered. "Not that far a journey."

He looked to her, wondering, before he sat back down and took her hands in his, ignoring her flinching as he brought them to rest on her crystal ball. "What are you hiding from me? What do you see?"

Maggie glanced at the sphere. "Your loves are with child," she blurted out. "They can't go to the seven kingdoms."

"What?"

"They're-"

"I heard you," he interrupted in a whisper. "Are you lying to me?"

"Why would I? I say what I see."

Dandy began to beam, looking up at the ceiling. "The first of my line will be born in the capital."

"You can't-You can't take them with you it's too dangerous," she begged.

"They'll be safer at my side, my wives and my child."

She began to panic and tried to tear away but he held her fingers painfully tight in his, her half-hearted plan having horribly misfired and her stomach tying in knots at the possibility of his being there when Jimmy's child was born in front of him. He shifted his eyes back to her.

"I ask you, as you see into the future, into minds, and through ghosts, will I be king of the seven kingdoms?" he asked. "Why shouldn't I rule Westeros? I am a god among men, I have enough money for an army, and I am beautiful enough for minted coins. Tell me, seer, will I be king of the seven kingdoms?"

The girl spared a look at her crystal ball and after a long moment and with the twins on her mind, braved a nod. "You are the only man deserving to be."

He smiled.

(Learn Valyrian with Jimmy!

Vala: Man

Glaesan: I live

Drējī: Truly

āeksio: Master/Lord)