"Stop. Arms up." Gruffly, the man was checked for any weapons, and the usual ceremonial dagger was found. "I'll give it back to you when you're done talking. Off you go." With a sigh, Daniel nonchalantly threw the dagger on a nearby table, and leant against a pillar, as the man walked forwards and knelt at the floor of the podium, talking to Daenerys. After five minutes, the man walked over to Daniel, who traded the dagger for a look so dirty, it could ruin a washing machine. Smiling, he walked off as Daenerys stood, following her out of the court room, where she walked over to him as he took off his assault vest. Worried, she asked the usual question: "Do you think that the new process you've implemented will keep me safe?"
"Well, has anybody tried to kill you?"
"No, but…"
"But what? That means it works. Plus, by frisking them, I'm minimalizing the chances that they do attack you. Trust me, It's safe as houses now. I mean, if you really wanted to, you could use those three dragons of yours to scare the hell out of the sleazy buggers, but I appreciate that a scare tactic isn't too preferable. Instead, you got me."
Smiling, she looked at him and asked a new question. "But what about your safety? People are becoming more and more agitated by your demand to… " She frowned "Frisk them, if that's the right term"
Daniel smiled, and looked at her, a small glint in his eyes. " It is. Let the buggers. This vest is Kevlar weave, and the protective plates are solid Kevlar. If you can make a dagger that'll penetrate that, you'll render armour redundant, and it'll go back to the days of men standing in long lines, shooting each other."
"Valyrian Steel."
"From what I hear, that's exceedingly rare, and there isn't any in this city, rendering it redundant, so I win. I think you have a council meeting, right? I've got to check over the crate, see how the weapons are."
"You said you can command?"
Startled, Daniel turned from his assault vest, and looked at her. "Yeah, why?"
"I'd like you to join my council. You have kept me safe so far, so I'd like you to keep my city safe." He shrugged, and drew his knife and a cleaning cloth, before carefully checking the blade. It was a long time before he looked up at her, and nodded, with some resignation.
"Fine. I take it we meet in an hour." He looked back at his knife, and carried on cleaning it.
Daniel was still cleaning the knife after two hours, although now he was sitting in the council chamber of Daenery's rooms, with his feet up on the table and a basketful of ignored subtle hints in his brain.
"Daniel?"
"What? I'm cleaning. You don't need me here, so I'll use the time productively."
"How should I deal with the sons of the harpy?"
"How should I know? It's guerrilla warfare."
"Which means?"
"You need information. So do whatever you need to do to make the people think they'll benefit from you more than the harpies, and they'll give you information. Use that info to eradicate them, and gain more information, then repeat until done"
"So I should reopen the fighting pits?"
"If it makes the people happy. Just ensure you leave your mark on the city, make it a good mark, and people will help out. The main objective here is to make the citizens join your side, and they'll do the rest. It's basic politics, but translated into warfare. Which is basic politics anyway, but that's currently immaterial. That all?"
"For now." The short retort was frosty, and to the point. Good. Daniel wasn't going to stick in this room. He was meant to be out there, taking out the harpies, and letting this lot handle the tactics.
He awoke from his self-induced social coma half an hour later, when everyone got up to leave. Standing, he scowled at the new fingerprint on his knife, when a finger suddenly flipped it up in the air. The knife rose, reflecting and bending light like a hall of mirrors, until Daniel automatically snatched it out of the air, ensuring he caught in with the blade menacingly pointed at the mischievous face of the flipper: Daario Naharis. He glared at the cocky little upstart. "Careful, or you won't have a second son anymore."
"Well, if you can catch him."
"One kick right now and I will. Now piss off, kid." He spat, then rubbed the knife with the blade, and sheathed it."
A slight cough emanated from the corner of the room, and Daenerys glared at him.
"What? He pissed me off."
"Why are you angry?"
"I'm in a city on a planet I don't know, and there's a cocky little twat trying to mess me around. I've also been put on a council that isn't a war council. I've got a million strategies to use the dragons and small forces that you have, but nobody to present them to, and I don't know about the dragons. You need me to be a planner, give me the correct resources."
"So you want to see the dragons?"
"I need to see what I'm working with, yeah."
"Come with me. They'll be fed today."
It was dark. Too dark. The container was above him, and the rank odour of burnt flesh permeated the air, as did the heat. A lamb had been lead into the vault, and there it stood, like a child which had lost it's parents. In the far right of the pitch black vault, a chain clinked, and something rustled. The lamb was bleating like a broken record now, crying for help. A flash of light reflected off of something, and then it was all over. A gout of flame charged from the gaping black abyss, incinerating the pillar and the lamb, and then two gargantuan reptiles with leathery wings and two legs charged in for the kill, before retreating back to the shadows like wraiths. Fear ruled the darkness, as two cows were brought in and Daenerys left, with Daniel in tow. Shaking his head, he looked at her, standing radiant at the top of the stairs leading to the vault.
"Okay, you have Wyverns. Now I'm convinced."
"Good. I need you for a mission."
"You mean I get a spot of action?"
"Yes, I do."
"Keep talking."