WOW! Look at that! Plowed through this chapter quickly haha lucky readers! Enjoy!


Chapter 8: Betrayal Becomes Us


Ser Barristan

It felt as if he were walking on sand again, for everything had turned to ash beneath his feet, but Ser Barristan refused to look down, keeping his eyes fixed firmly ahead as he ventured deeper into the dead city. He feared if he were to stop and take in his surroundings properly that he would surely go mad from the sight of the charred and broken corpses that littered the ground. He had once been told that blood would boil rather than burn but he felt certain that the victims of Meereen had in fact burned in their own blood. He shuddered despite the dry heat around him and his eyes sought the only life to be found in this doomed city. Ahead of him two large birds cawed and circled before settling against the remains of an old messenger post, futilely awaiting the return of the message master who was surely buried beneath the rubble.

"How do we know they are not simply scavenger birds?" The voice of Daario Naharis interrupted his thoughts and the elderly knight glanced to the young captain on his left.

"Ser Jorah seemed quite certain," Ser Barristan answered confidently. "As did Loki." Now that he could see the birds for himself, he was likewise convinced that they were indeed messenger birds. What gave him pause however was that they were not the messenger birds one would expect to encounter in Essos. One of the birds was lightly coloured, its markings suggesting that it was from King's Landing for it was undoubtedly a royal falcon. Even more curiously however, the other bird was much darker in contrast and upon closer inspection Ser Barristan realised that it was a crow.

"It's from the Wall," Ser Barristan stated, his curiosity mounting by the moment.

Dario Naharis stared at him sceptically as they drew closer. "You mean that giant hunk of ice that's supposed to protect the South from Wildlings?"

Ser Barristan gave the man an easy smile. "That Wall was designed to keep out far more sinister creatures than Wildlings. If I was to hazard a guess, I would say that you have never seen it?"

Daario Naharis shook his head slowly. "I have been to the South," he admitted. "To King's Landing. But I didn't venture much further beyond its docks." He scoffed as he described the capitol to Ser Barristan. "I was there with the intention of recruiting men for the Second Sons, but all I got were cowards or men who had already sworn loyalty to the Kings Guard."

Ser Barristan glanced at the young captain in amusement. "I do hope that you don't harbour so poor an opinion towards all men who have served in the Kings Guard," he commented, his hand subconsciously drifting towards the distinctive sword at his hip.

"On the contrary," Daario Naharis corrected, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I value loyalty above all other virtues. But loyalty must be earned or deserved; else it may be traded just as easily as a sellsword company."

Ser Barristan gave a low chuckle as they came to a stop at the foot of the crumbled tower, staring intently at the two birds perched atop the rubble. Daario Naharis gave a low whistle.

"So," he ventured. "Any ideas on how to entice them down?"

Ser Barristan frowned slightly when both birds did not immediately fly down to them but it was possible that they were a bit disoriented by the smoke and residual ashes of the city. An idea occurred to Ser Barristan and he pulled his sword into view, allowing the distinctive metal to flash in the sunlight. The tawny falcon immediately caught sight of this and, its previous reluctance forgotten, flew down to Ser Barristan's outstretched arm.

"Seems you have a way with birds, Ser," Daario Naharis said, eying the agile creature.

Ser Barristan gestured to the sword at his side, being careful not to dislodge the bird from his arm. "I think he just needed reassurance," he mused, watching as the bird's eyes pinned. "With all this death around, I imagine that something familiar is a welcome relief."

He moved to relieve the bird of the note tied to its leg, stepping back as Daario approached the crow and tried to coax it down as well. The tidy writing looked familiar to him but it was the name scrawled across the front which made his stomach turn.

Ser Jorah Mormont.

The recognisable seal of the Hand of the King was also stamped across the envelope and Ser Barristan's fears were confirmed. As he had suspected, the letter originated from King's Landing and yet Ser Barristan could not think of any noble reasons for why Tywin Lannister, Hand of the King, would be writing to Ser Jorah. He glanced quickly at Daario Naharis but the young man was still occupied with trying to entice the stubborn crow from its perch and regretfully his eyes returned to the letter in his hands. His next actions would surely betray the trust of a man he had come to regard as his friend but if he did not open the letter, he would be gambling on the safety and wellbeing of his beloved Queen. With his mind made up, he sucked in a breath, ripped through the seal quickly and unfolded the letter. Another parchment fell from his hands, having evidently been concealed inside the first letter and he bent to retrieve it with shaky hands. As his eyes scanned the page, he almost wished he had decided not to open the letter for he knew in his heart that this would only bring more pain to Daenerys.

"Wait here," he muttered to Daario, and the young captain looked at him in surprise.

"You might have a better time of trying to coax the crow down than I will," Daario pointed out but Ser Barristan was already striding towards the docks.

"I must see the Queen," he said loudly as Daario watched his retreating back. "Urgently."

"I'll stay here then," Daario called after him. "You go ahead."

Ser Barristan could hear the sarcasm in his voice but he was already hurrying towards the docks, his heart sinking by the minute. He slowed his stride for a moment as he contemplated the parchment in his hands. The unfortunate letter brought two pieces of new; one would surely bring relief and satisfaction to Daenerys whilst the other would surely shatter her spirit. He decided he would seek out Jorah first, feeling it was a cowardly act to report this behind his back.

But he wished with every fibre of his being that he didn't have to do it.


Ser Jorah

The map in front of Ser Jorah seemed out of place, so pristine and colourful amongst all the broken and charred remains of the city. He studied it with some thought, glancing up every now and then towards the tent that the men had set up for Daenerys so that she might read her ancestor's journal in private. Of course she permitted Loki and himself entrance but unlike her fierce lover Ser Jorah politely declined, feeling it was invasive for him to be privy to all the lost secrets of her ancestors.

His eyes returned to the map in front of him and he absently bent to retrieve a rock, using it as a paper weight to spread the map out more evenly. Until Daenerys was certain where the Red God would strike next, Ser Jorah thought he would be more useful scouting out a tactical approach to Kings Landing since this seemed the most likely place the Red God would think to attack. He felt someone approach and glanced up to see Ser Barristan making his way towards him, his mouth set in a grim line. He bent his head slightly to acknowledge Ser Barristan but the expression he sent Ser Jorah in return was bitter and unmoving. "Ser Barristan."

The older knight stopped in front of Ser Jorah but he did not acknowledge the greeting. If anything, Ser Barristan refused to meet his gaze directly. The uncomfortable expression did not leave his face and Ser Jorah began to feel a dreadful tightening in his stomach. He tried to ignore it and once again prompted the older man. "Did you retrieve the birds?"

Ser Barristan's eyes snapped to attention then and he pulled something out from the sleeve of his coat, placing it directly atop the map that Ser Jorah had just been studying. It was a scroll, the seal already broken but Ser Jorah could easily read the tidy scrawl of his name across the top. That dreadful feeling tugged painfully at his gut again. "What's this?" He felt that his mouth had gone dry and he swallowed reflexively against the lump that had begun to form in his throat.

"A royal pardon." Ser Barristan sounded as though he almost felt sorry for Ser Jorah but there was also undeniable anger in his words. "Signed by Robert Baratheon."

Ser Jorah's fingers felt numb and they moved of their own accord to grasp the parchment, unfurling it so that he could see the contents for himself. He stared at the pardon which he had once longed for more anything else but now he wished for nothing more than to burn it.

"You spied on her," Ser Barristan stated coldly.

Ser Jorah glanced up towards the tent and then back to Ser Barristan. "Have you told her?"

"I wanted to tell you first," Ser Barristan informed him, taking the parchment back. "Man to man, rather than go behind your back."

Ser Jorah could see his chance and he hastened to seize it. "Let me speak to her in private," he begged. "Please."

Ser Barristan glared at him dispassionately. "You'll never be alone with her again."

Without another word he left Ser Jorah, moving towards the tent to inform the Queen of his betrayal. Ser Jorah felt sick beyond anything he had ever felt in his life. The pardon was of course from a long time ago but his Khaleesi would hardly see it that way. She valued loyalty and compassion and she had shown him both, a feat which not even his previous king could commit to. It was what made him switch sides in the first place; that he had been present to witness Daenerys grow from a fragile young woman into a fierce and determined Queen. She was the Mother of Dragons, the Breaker of Chains and a far better ruler than anyone in Westeros or Essos could ever hope to be. And he had betrayed her... for a worthless scrap of paper.


Time didn't seem to mean anything to Ser Jorah as he sat with his face in his hands, huddled against the sand and ash. At some point, Daario Naharis walked by his chosen gravesite sending Ser Jorah a rather curious look as he passed. He disappeared into the tent as Ser Barristan had and Ser Jorah sucked in a ragged breath, knowing he would soon never set eyes on his Queen again.

"Jorah." The word was spoken so plainly, so softly against the wind that Ser Jorah should not have been able to hear it but in his wretched state, Daenerys' voice was the only thing that could get through to him. He stood on shaky limbs, brushing the sand from his padded armour and walked towards the tent, feeling as though he were dragging a huge catapult behind him.

As he brushed aside the entrance to the tent, the sight that greeted him was rather formal and though Daenerys did not appear angry, he knew this was a mask which she had carefully mastered over the time. She wore it now with grim determination, seated on a small collapsible pedestal with Loki, Ser Barristan and Grey Worm at her side. Daario stood behind them and he looked more uncomfortable than anyone, but one glare at Ser Jorah and he knew that the young captain would be of no help to him. His eyes reluctantly returned to Daenerys and he bent his knee, kneeling at her mercy.

"Why did the usurper pardon you?" The icy tone to her voice made Ser Jorah flinch and he looked once more to her advisors and to Loki, hoping that someone might speak for him. No one did.

"If we could speak alone," he beseeched her, hating the way her usually kind eyes now regarded him with such detachment.

"No," she responded firmly. "Speak to me here." He watched the way her fingernails dug into her palms, feeling his regret overwhelming him. "Explain it to me."

Ser Jorah tried to reason with her, ultimately knowing it would do him no good. "Who do you think sent this to Meereen?" he asked. "Who profits?"

He took a hesitant step forward, hoping to draw her attention to the facts. "This is the work of Tywin Lannister," he said, struggling to keep his voice calm. "He wants to divide us. If we're fighting each other, we're not fighting him."

Daenerys stared at him for a moment, just long enough for Jorah to see the regret in her face. His spirits lifted slightly as he thought maybe he could convince her after all.

"The pardon was signed the year we met," she said and Ser Jorah's hopes plummeted. He sucked in a breath, wondering if the others could see how much it cost him not to fall on his own sword to beg her forgiveness.

"Why were you pardoned?" Daenerys demanded again as her eyebrows drew together. "Unless you're saying this document was forged?"

Ser Jorah saw Loki tilt his head in curiousity, evidently wondering if he would deny it or leap upon this potential lifeline.

"It is not forged," Ser Jorah admitted, feeling he owed her the truth at least. Even if he had lied, he was sure that Loki would somehow have sensed it.

"Why then?" The mask that Daenerys had so carefully put in place was beginning to slip and Ser Jorah could see the anger and hurt reflected in the tight line of her lips.

"I sent letters to Varys, the spymaster of King's Landing," Ser Jorah said carefully.

Her jaw twitched. "What was the content of these letters?"

"Information," Ser Jorah responded, swallowing reflexively.

"What information?" Daenerys was relentless as she bore down upon him, awaiting his explanation.

"When you and Viserys arrived in Pentos," he told her. "His plan to marry you to Khal Drogo. When you were married and," he paused, "When your brother died."

A thought crossed her features and Ser Jorah knew where this was headed. "You told them I was carrying Drogo's child?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

Loki's eyes flicked from Ser Jorah to Daenerys and even in the circumstances, Ser Jorah could see the jealousy that he barely contained towards the man who had been her first love. He wisely chose to keep his mouth shut but it was obvious to Ser Jorah that Loki was plagued by Daenerys' painful past.

Ser Jorah opened his mouth. "I-"

"Yes or no?" She cut him off.

"Khaleesi," Ser Jorah pleaded with her.

"Don't call me that," she hissed at him. "Did you tell them I was carrying Drogo's child?"

Ser Jorah's lips trembled as tears of shame sprang into his eyes. "Yes," he whispered in defeat.

Daenerys stood then, ignoring the way Loki and Ser Barristan moved to assist her as she stepped towards Ser Jorah.

"Daenerys," Loki spoke gently but whether it was on Ser Jorah's behalf or not, no one could tell.

She held up a hand to silence him as her gaze never left the man kneeling in front of her.

"That wine merchant," she said, her eyes flashing furiously, "Tried to poison me because of your information."

"I stopped you from drinking his wine," Ser Jorah said quickly, hoping this would placate her.

Instead, this seemed to infuriate her. "Because you knew it was poisoned," she accused.

"I suspected," Ser Jorah murmured.

Her emotions battled for dominance across her features, flickering between anger, confusion and finally despair. She turned from him and though he longed to reach for her, he stayed where he was. Daenerys stepped towards Loki instead who held out a comforting hand to her. Ser Jorah waited, frowning slightly as he watched her hand drift towards her stomach. It seemed an odd gesture but Ser Jorah realised that the memory of the death of her child to Drogo was likely still fresh and painful.

"You betrayed me," she finally said, whirling upon him. "From the first!"

Ser Jorah fell forward, placing his hands on the ground in front of him so that he was no longer kneeling but practically lying at her feet. "Forgive me," he implored her. "I never meant..." Whatever he was going to say however died upon his lips as he realised that it wouldn't be enough. It could never be enough.

"Please, Khaleesi," he whispered. "Forgive me."

"You sold my secrets to the man who killed my father and stole my brother's throne..."

"I have protected you," Ser Jorah spoke through her pain. "Fought for you. Killed for you."

"... and you want me to forgive you?" She stared at the ceiling of the tent unable to hold his gaze as her eyes filled with angry tears.

"I have loved you," Ser Jorah confessed, uncaring if Loki would now run him through with his sceptre.

"Love?" she said, baring her teeth as Ser Jorah looked at the ground. "Love? How can you say that to me? Any other man and I would have you executed."

Ser Jorah did not move, practically waiting for the sword to drop on his neck. He heard her sharp intake of breath and he glanced up to see her eyes shining with regret, loss and furious resignation.

"Go back to your masters in King's Landing," she ordered him. "Collect your pardon if you can. I'm done with you."

"Daenerys please," Ser Jorah begged her one last time, standing slightly so that he might reach for her hand.

A pale arm descended upon his, halting his intended path and throwing him back against the ground. Ser Jorah stared in shock at the looming figure of Loki and yet it was not hatred he saw in Loki's eyes but pity. Loki pitied him. He did not speak up for Ser Jorah nor point out that Daenerys was harsh in her sentence but he seemed to be looking at Ser Jorah with some level of understanding. He recognised that Ser Jorah had tried to change but he also knew that it was too late. It was far, far too late.

"Do not presume to touch me or speak my name again," Daenerys warned him. "Take your horse... and go."

Ser Jorah remained frozen in place for a moment but the scathing looks from the men who had once been his comrades had him scrambling to his feet and retreating out of the tent. He had nowhere to go since he very much doubted that the pardon would stand now that Robert was dead. In any case, he had no desire to return to King's Landing. He was after all leaving the only person he cared about behind.

The desert was as good a place as any and as he mounted his horse he couldn't ignore the accusatory stares of the Unsullied as he rode past them all. He stopped briefly by the city gates, gazing back towards the Queen he was leaving behind and her dragons as they growled and bickered amongst themselves. The bulky figure of Thor was even visible at this distance as he tried to settle the great beasts, evidently sensing their mother's distress.

"Protect her," Ser Jorah whispered. "For I can no longer."

And with these final departing words, Ser Jorah spurred the reins on, galloping off into the eternal sands.


Daenerys

She let out her breath in an audible gasp, no longer able to hold back the overwhelming grief that threatened to consume her.

"Daenerys!" Loki moved to her side quickly, his hands grasping her upper arms to hold her steady.

"I'm alright," she murmured, gently pushing him away as Ser Barristan also approached her. "Really, I'm okay."

Loki looked far from convinced. "No, you're not."

Her eyes narrowed. "He betrayed me. I care nothing for him anymore. If I say I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Daenerys, your hands." Loki gestured to her palms, his expression rather anxious.

Daenerys followed his gaze, staring at the blue fire that was crackling at her fingertips. "What?" she breathed in alarm. She clenched her fists, willing the flames to go away and within seconds they extinguished themselves. Her skin looked the same, unburnt as it had always been, but this new fire was certainly far from her usual power. Like the blue fire that stopped the Red God from ripping open my belly, she thought.

"What in the Seven Kingdoms was that?" Ser Barristan demanded, rounding upon Loki. Grey Worm looked the same as he always did, his face a perfect mask of composure, while Daario looked positively stunned.

"Do I look like I know?" Loki asked, his lip curling in annoyance. "I don't exactly have blue fire shooting from my fingers now do I?"

"But surely you must know," Ser Barristan blustered and Loki raised an eyebrow as the older knight mimicked the gesture that Daenerys had just made with her own hands. "You have powers," he insisted. "And I've seen your skin turn blue."

"Have you?" Loki asked, still keeping his eyebrow quirked.

Ser Barristan glared at Loki. "I'm an old man, Loki," he said. "I've been around a long time and I've seen things. Yours may be a different kind of magic but it is not the first I have seen."

Daenerys stepped between them. "Now is not the time to discuss this," she said firmly. She held her hands out in reassurance. "I'm fine."

Loki stared at her hands for a moment before his gaze darted to her belly. His eyes returned to her face, an unspoken question on his lips. "I think so," she mouthed quietly in answer. Her hand shifted to her abdomen and when she felt the reassuring kick inside, she suddenly turned to the rest of the men in her tent.

"I'm carrying Loki's child," she blurted, deliberately ignoring Loki when he suddenly dropped his sceptre. "It's true," she continued when Ser Barristan stared at her with wide eyes. "And I believe the baby may possess powers like his father... and like me."

It was Daario's long drawn out whistle that eventually broke the awkward silence that followed. "Way to announce that," he remarked, pointedly averting his gaze when Daenerys glared at him.

"If any of you have a problem with this, you had best speak up now," Loki threatened as he regained his composure. "There is no point going to war against the Red Demon if any of you have any fear of magic!"

Ser Barristan looked doubtful for a moment. "Ser Barristan?" Daenerys prompted, feeling unnerved by his silence.

"I am with you my Queen," he assured her immediately. "Until the end. Do not mistake my silence for doubt. But," and he glared at Loki. "I merely question his competency in placing you in such a vulnerable position. You truly plan to go to war in your condition?"

"You question my competency?" Loki interjected furiously. "My competency?!"

Daario sniggered. "I think the fact that he got her pregnant isn't really a question of his competency."

Daenerys shot him a look of pure contempt which she quickly shifted to Grey Worm when she noticed her Unsullied General fighting not to smile. His face immediately became impassive once more as she returned her attention to Ser Barristan and Loki.

"I meant that I question his decisions," Ser Barristan corrected, pausing briefly when Thor entered the tent.

Thor halted in his tracks when he was met with identical uncomfortable expressions. "The dragons are content for now," he said carefully, his eyes scanning the faces in the tent. "Everything alright in here?"

"Daenerys just announced her pregnancy," Loki responded before Daenerys could say anything and she inwardly groaned. "And she banished her advisor, Ser Jorah, for betraying her."

Thor did not seem surprised by this last piece of news. "I saw him ride off before. I'm sorry," he acknowledged softly, speaking to Daenerys.

"He is no longer our concern," Daenerys said offhandedly but she knew in her heart that was a lie. "The Red God is our priority. And I believe I know where he plans to make his final stand."

At last, everyone's attention seemed riveted upon her and their expressions were serious. She pointed to the journal on the table which now lay open, its lock broken by the blood of her youngest dragon Loreley. "Before Ser Barristan came to tell me the news," she began. "I was reading through the pages of the journal. It seems that the prophecy concerning the Red God was the last prediction that Daenys ever made. Or at least the last one she was able to write down."

"It is written in Valyrian?" Ser Barristan questioned.

"Yes," Daenerys confirmed with a flick of her eyes. "Although I now see why there are so many interpretations of the prophecy." She moved closer to the table which held the journal, running her fingers gently down its pages. "I do not know whether she purposefully wrote it this way or if Daenys' visions were as confusing as she has written them, but the exact interpretation is unclear. It reads more like a riddle."

"How do you interpret it then?" Loki asked, his gaze upon the journal as well.

"She talks of the Red God, of course. And his light. But she has written that it is a light so terrible that it burns away the flesh of man and it will blacken this world until there is nothing left. Unless the Great Other meets him upon the white field."

"The white field?" Ser Barristan and Loki echoed together.

Daenerys nodded, lifting the book from its perch and reading the exact inscription aloud. "Pi Rullor gaomagon un asha valar grest timpa parmon dōrībēuvaedagon."

She paused for a moment, before translating in the common tongue. "The Lord of Light shall meet the Great Other upon the White Field and then his song shall sing no more."

"The North," Ser Barristan said aloud and Daario and even Grey Worm nodded in agreement. "Past the wall. But surely he will be at a disadvantage there? Is that not the territory of his rival?"

"Perhaps," Daenerys said warily. "And I might've thought that he would avoid that at all costs except he wants this fight to happen. He needs it to prove that he is dominant, that he is invincible."

"It is a display of his power," Loki muttered. "A way to assert his control over this world. That's all it is. Hopefully he will die for his arrogance."

Daenerys noted that Loki was deliberately avoiding Thor's gaze at the moment and her lips curved into a curious smile when she saw that Thor was smirking at his brother. Her eyes returned to the journal in front of her.

"Sȳndor," she murmured as she continued to read. "Suvion. Zaldrīzes... Hāre Drakarys."

This last word sparked Loki's attention for he knew what it meant. "Daenerys?"

"Sorry," she murmured, clearing her throat and reading once again in the common tongue. "Ice will meet shadow and flame upon the dragon of three souls."

"Not a three-headed dragon?" Ser Barristan mused. "I guess they got that part wrong."

"That part is quite clear," Daenerys asserted. "The dragon of three souls. And..." she scanned the page, "Azor Ahai will be the deliverer. Specifically Azor Ahai will deliver the dragon of three souls unto the Lord of Light. That is how it shall be."

Daario Naharis suddenly cleared his throat and Daenerys glanced in his direction. "I wonder," he said, staring at the journal in Daenerys' hands. "... if there is a description of this Great Other in the journal?"

Daenerys shook her head. "It would certainly be useful," she agreed. "But why do you ask?"

"Could the Great Other be referring to more than one enemy?" Daario asked nervously. "Say perhaps an army?"

"An army of what?" Daenerys did not like where this was headed.

"White Walkers," Ser Barristan filled in. He glanced sharply at Daario as though just remembering something. "Do you have the letter from the crow?"

Daario handed over a scroll, watching as Daenerys quickly slit open the parchment and scanned the contents. "It is a cry for help," she read, her brow furrowing in dismay. "The wildlings march for war upon the Wall. But there is something else that moves in the dark."

"Who would ask request help from you to defend the Wall?" Ser Barristan seemed puzzled. "Why not King's Landing?"

Daenerys stared at the bottom of the page, smiling softly in spite of herself. "Master Aemon," she answered gently. "It seems he has not forgotten his Targaryen roots."

"It seems the old man may fear more than just the Wildlings," Ser Barristan said decisively. "If he needed men he would have written to the Usurper King. The new one," he added as an afterthought. "Since Joffrey Baratheon is dead."

Daenerys stared at the pages of the journal as they lay open in front of her, lost in thought. It seemed she had received so much information in so short a time and she was struggling to process it all. She had almost forgotten that the letter from King's Landing also contained a eulogy of the late Usurper King, murdered at his own wedding. At any other time she may have found this news joyful but in light of Jorah's betrayal she had only felt an aching emptiness.

"The Red Demon," she said as she collected her thoughts. "He knew I had the journal. Therefore he knew I might figure out where the final battle would take place. He didn't just burn this city for revenge." She looked to her advisors with a mounting fury. "He wanted to ensure I had no way of escorting my army across the sea to Westeros."

"He burned all of the ships," Ser Barristan realised. "So that you would have none."

"I have dragons," Daenerys said hotly.

"Dragons cannot carry an army, my Queen."

"There are men on the Wall are there not?" Daario argued. "Can they not adequately defend the ice Wall?"

"Not against this demon," Thor interjected, startling Daenerys for a moment as she had forgotten he was there. "This will be unlike anything your world has ever seen. There is a reason that gods should only be worshipped as entities and not corporeal demons. They have power beyond your reckoning and a demon as twisted and evil as this will wreak havoc upon the mortals at the Wall. No matter how high or how grand it is." He glanced at Daenerys then. "Your dragons may certainly lend a hand but I fear that will not be enough."

"You and I might even the odds out a bit," Loki said smugly, eying his brother and his hammer with satisfaction.

"Even then," Thor said hesitantly and Daenerys could see the anxiety written across his features.

"What do you mean Thor?" Daenerys held up a hand to prevent anyone else from interrupting, staring at him uncertainly. "Why will it not be enough?"

Thor stared at them all as if they were missing something entirely obvious. "Do you not think this Red Demon has an army of his own?"


Before any of you ask... YES! Hahah I DID look up some online words from the High Valyrian dictionary and I already know that the sentence doesn't make any sense. I kind of just looked up some of the words and strung them together (and had quite a bit of fun doing it as well!). I was going to make this chapter even longer but I thought HEY I could get this out to you early and finish it here :D Probably another 2-3 weeks til the next one guys but hey I might have some free time and get it out even sooner like I did this time. See what happens when you all make me feel guilty? Haha it won't work every time though! I am sorry to send Ser Jorah away for now but I had a few requests to tie this in more to the original storyline (not sure why since you could just watch game of thrones to get that bit) so that's what I've done. I won't be able to do it for much more though since the inevitable battle is nearly upon us... aaaah!