Chapter 13: Choices
Daenerys
"The Second Sons?" Daenerys echoed as Loki stood before her, having returned to her tent and looking decidedly ridiculous dressed in bright Slaver's clothes. He frowned slightly when he caught her amused stare and glanced down at his attire.
He gave a snort of exasperation, waving an arm and letting the illusion drop so that he was once again garbed in black warrior garments. "I'd forgotten about that," he muttered. He cleared his throat once more. "Yes, that was what the Master called them. He seemed loath to reveal that fact but I persuaded him otherwise."
"I bet," Ser Jorah sniped from behind Daenerys. Loki did not look angry in the least. Oddly enough he seemed smug, no doubt proud of his abilities of persuasion.
Daenerys turned her head slightly but did not look directly at her Queensguard Knight. "Ser Jorah?"
"Your pardon, Khaleesi," Ser Jorah intoned. "I have heard of these Second Sons. They are a sell-sword company and, though they fight well, they would be no match for the Unsullied, even if the numbers were even."
"Ser Jorah is right," Ser Barristan agreed. "They fight for gold but if that gold is not worth their lives, you may not even have to fight them."
"We shan't be dissuaded then," Daenerys affirmed. She reached for a ripe peach in the fruit bowl next to her as she gave Loki a warm smile. "Is that all?" she asked, noticing that he did not move.
Loki shifted back slightly. "There is something else." He moved aside, revealing a small boy gazing around the lavish tent furnishings in wonder. His eyes widened to impossible proportions as he saw Daenerys staring down at him.
Daenerys positively beamed in the presence of the child and she took a step towards him but stopped immediately as he fell to his knees. "Khaleesi," he addressed her, eyes downcast.
"Oh no, there is no need for that," Daenerys hushed, bending to usher the boy to his feet. She noticed him eyeing the peach in her hand and held it out to him. "Are you hungry?" The boy shook his head quickly and stepped back as though it would burn him but Daenerys gave a playful smirk and tossed it to him. His immediate reaction was to catch it and he looked at Daenerys questioningly, a timid smile playing at the corner of his lips. "It's yours," she told him.
"What is this?" Ser Jorah demanded, turning on Loki.
"Well Ser Jorah, I know you're eyes must be failing you in your older age but it looks to me that it might be a boy," Loki gibed.
"That is not what I mean—"
"I know what you meant."
"Why is he here?"
The men began to argue and Daenerys chose to pointedly ignore them. The boy stared at her mesmerised. "You're the Mother of Dragons," he blurted. "They talk about you in Yunkai."
"I am," Daenerys assured him. "But that's not what you called me..."
He understood immediately. "I know you to be a Khaleesi," he admitted as he played with the peach, hesitating to eat it although his mouth watered to take a bite. "I heard the Knight say it."
"Eat," Daenerys encouraged and the boy finally sunk his teeth into the plump fruit. As he devoured the peach flesh hungrily, Daenerys browsed his features, taking in his dark wavy hair and his bronzed skin. "What is your name?" she asked quietly.
The boy swallowed heartily. "I am named Kadikh Kazga."
Daenerys froze. "Black Animal," she whispered. "That is your name?" The boy nodded slowly.
Daenerys stood and turned. "You found him in Yunkai?" she addressed Loki as he and Ser Jorah finally stopped bickering.
"Yes," Loki answered her, still glaring at Ser Jorah. "Running from guards. His name is Kadikh Kazga. Your Dothraki acted like that meant something."
Daenerys bit her lip. "It would mean something to them. It is a Dothraki name. It means Black Animal or loosely translates to Animal of Darkness." She turned to regard the boy again. "If Yunkai are enslaving Dothraki, their influence has spread further than we thought."
She bent once more to Kadikh Kazga. "How is it that you came to speak the common tongue?" she asked kindly.
"I am only half Dothraki," he explained nervously. "My father was Dothraki. My mother was from Westeros... once. She taught me. She came to Essos looking for work and could not make it out before the city she was in was sacked by Dothraki hordes. One of them took her as a wife."
Daenerys felt her heart go out to his young soul. "Where is she now?"
"Dead."
Daenerys lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "But you don't have to be afraid. You are in no danger here. We do not keep slaves."
Kadikh Kazga gave her a confused look. "But you are a Khaleesi," he said perplexed. "A Dothraki Queen always has slaves."
"Not this one," Daenerys vowed. "Times have changed, Kadikh Kazga."
The boy suddenly gave her a proud smile, hands on his hips and puffed out his chest. "You can call me Kaz."
Loki let out a bark of laughter as he witnessed the early blossoming of a crush before his very eyes. This boy had fire, just like Daenerys. And if he was not mistaken, this boy was rather taken with her.
Kaz fidgeted slightly as he noticed all eyes on him. "What will you do with me?"
Daenerys contemplated him for a moment before turning to Ser Jorah. "Fetch Missandei to me."
Ser Jorah left immediately and returned a few minutes later with Missandei who glanced at the boy curiously before giving a slight bow to Daenerys. "You asked to see me, Your Grace."
Daenerys gestured for Kaz to come forward, taking his hand gently and presenting him to her handmaiden. "Kaz, this is Missandei. She has a flair for languages and cultural customs. I'm sure she could show you a thing or two."
Missandei looked positively intrigued as she smiled warmly at Kaz. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I'm afraid the Khaleesi may be exaggerating my talents however."
Daenerys laughed. "I most certainly am not exaggerating. Kaz here is half Dothraki. I believe he may share your talent for languages, and at such a young age."
Missandei looked at him in astonishment. "Do you also speak Dothraki?"
Kaz was evidently not used to such attention however it was obvious to Loki that he was very much enjoying it. "Yes," he said proudly. "And the Masters also taught me Old Ghiscari although I find it a harder language to learn than the others."
Daenerys looked at Missandei questioningly. "It is an old slave language," Missandei explained. "Not used very commonly these days but in some parts it is the only language that the slaves know."
Daenerys curled her lip disdainfully at the mention of slaves before returning her attention to Kaz. "How would you like to learn Old Valaryian?" she offered. It was as if Daenerys had said the magic words.
"Will I get to see your dragons as well?" he asked with such enthusiasm, it made Daenerys smile to see such innocence. She looked at Loki and he raised an eyebrow at her. She gazed back at Kaz and shook her head.
"Not right now. I have sent them out hunting so that they will not disturb the people of Yunkai while we visit," she admitted and the boy's face fell ever so slightly. "Missandei," she said, unable to resist Kaz's large doe eyes. "I believe we have books in my tent? Books about dragons," she said deliberately, watching the boy's face light up. "Perhaps Kaz would like to read about them until they return?"
Missandei smiled, giving a short bow and led Kaz back to her tent with the young boy practically bouncing on his feet in excitement.
Ser Jorah crossed his arms in disapproval once they were clear of earshot. "Did you even think for a moment that you might be putting the Khaleesi in danger by bringing a slave here?" he asked, whirling to face Loki. "Especially one that is wanted by the guards?"
Loki growled a warning but before he could utter a retort, Daenerys herself turned on Ser Jorah. "And what do you propose Loki should do? Send him back?" she demanded angrily.
"Of course not," Ser Jorah said a little too quickly. "But what then? You intend to keep him?"
Daenerys felt her patience leaving her. "I cannot keep him. He is a boy not a possession. He has no family or if he does they are not in Yunkai. Therefore he will remain with us for as long as he wishes or until we find a better place for him. And there will be no debating the matter."
She took a deep breath. "Now, I'm going to have a look at these so called Second Sons. If Yunkai thinks we are enough of a threat, then I anticipate their mercenaries will be arriving very shortly."
...
Dirt and sand wafted through the air as the Second Sons rode into Yunkai. No man seemed to be without a horse and, like Yunkai, these men brought slaves with them.
"Men who fight for gold know neither honour nor loyalty," Ser Barristan commented dryly as they watched the Second Sons gallop past, oblivious to their position behind the dunes. "They cannot be trusted." Daenerys and her companions were clothed in dusky rags to obscure themselves in the sand dunes whilst they observed the opposition gather their forces.
"Whereas men who kill for the thrill of it are so much more honourable," Loki said sarcastically drawing a small smile from Daenerys.
"They can be trusted enough to kill you if they're well paid," Ser Jorah said bitterly. "And the Yunkish are paying them well."
"So they are the Second Sons," Daenerys determined as she watched the desert invaders ride past on strong bred horses and toting impressive weaponry.
"Aye," Ser Barristan answered. "I would have known their broken swords and banners in an instant, even if Loki had not been able to ascertain their involvement earlier. They are led by a man called Mero Braavos, better known as the Titan's Bastard."
"Is he more titan or bastard?" Daenerys snickered but both Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah looked at her grimly.
"He's a dangerous man, Khaleesi," Ser Jorah warned her. "They all are." Daenerys looked between the men, her eyes darting briefly to Loki's but even he seemed content to be cautious.
"How many?" Daenerys asked, her tone more serious this time.
"Two thousand, Your Grace," Ser Barristan responded. "Hardly enough against us."
"But enough to make a difference?" Daenerys wanted to be sure. Ser Barristan conceded with a nod, shooting the desert riders a venomous glare. Daenerys seemed to consider her options as Loki watched her closely.
"It's hard to collect wages from a corpse," Loki suggested darkly. "I'm sure even the Second Sons might prefer to fight for the winning side." Daenerys looked hopefully at Ser Jorah for his thoughts and her anticipation grew when she saw that he was impressed by Loki's suggestion.
"I imagine Loki's right," he said in full support. "The more fights they win, the better their reputations precede them."
"Let's talk to the Titan's Bastard about winning," Daenerys voiced with conviction. She turned to Grey Worm who stood behind her, awaiting command. "See that it's done," she commented. "Tomorrow." Grey Worm gave a dutiful nod as he too eyed the strange men, not at all impressed by their fortitude to fight for gold.
"The Titan's Bastard may not agree to meet," Ser Barristan reminded her as Daenerys returned her gaze to the crafty Second Sons.
"He will," Daenerys alleged with certainty. "A man who fights for gold can't afford to lose to a girl."
Daenerys turned to her company. "Get comfortable for tonight. We may be at war as soon as tomorrow."
As Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan gave short bows and departed, Loki came to stand by Daenerys as she continued to watch the mercenaries in their camps.
"Look at them," she said with disgust. "How can men fight for gold-kill -for gold?"
"Men are born into this world with certain gifts," Loki surmised. "If that gift is a penchant for killing people, why not charge them for what all it is worth?"
Daenerys glanced at Loki with a frown though she looked more amused than angry. "A typical male response. Surely men have talent for practices other than killing?"
Loki leaned forward from behind her and brushed the hair off her neck, laying a feather light kiss against her collarbone. "I can think of a few things," he murmured huskily against her silken skin. Daenerys raised a hand and gently caressed his cheek as he continued to lay a path of kisses down the side of her neck.
"We can't have our focus split," Daenerys whispered after a few moments. "Not tonight. We have to be prepared for an early attack."
"They won't try anything tonight," Loki assured her but he leaned back all the same. "That would be reckless and would certainly result in their deaths, all of them. Like you said, men who fight for gold can't afford to lose to a girl. But then-" Loki gave a knowing grin as he drew his thumb across his lower lip in contemplation. "You are so much more than a girl. No, they won't risk going up against the Mother of Dragons, not without insurance. So they will agree to meet." He gestured toward the mercenary camp. "If they decide to try anything, that will be their opportunity. But not to worry, you have me."
Daenerys blinked and rolled her eyes. "Aren't I lucky?"
Loki's lips quirked but other than that he ignored her comment. "You should let the men drink tonight, Daenerys. Not enough to dull the senses but it would be kind to allow them some manner of enjoyment before they put their lives on the line."
"I'm shocked to hear you of all people saying that," Daenerys commented in surprise. "Weren't you the one who wished for me to rule with an iron fist? That fear was far better than compassion?"
"Would you have listened?" Loki asked wryly. Daenerys just smiled at him. "As I thought. In any case, if you ruled without your compassion, well... then you wouldn't be who you are. I wouldn't change that."
"We need to return to camp," Daenerys said, still smiling. "I believe you spoke of the men... preparing."
...
At dusk, Daenerys stood at the mouth of her tent watching the sun set over the dunes. Back when Drogo was alive, she would always wait for this moment. For the moment when he would let the warrior facade drop and he was just her sun and stars. He would come to her, holding her close as the cosmos opened up and the sunset bled into the night sky. "Look, Moon of my Life," he would tell her in Dothraki, his large hands holding hers as he directed her delicate fingers to point at all the constellations. "The stars have all clambered to your presence. But you must be careful, for your beauty could charm the Gods from heaven. We wouldn't want the stars to fall in their haste to shine just for your presence."
The memory made her smile now, but not in sadness. She never knew Drogo's words to be prophetic but how could she deny them now as Loki stood before her, a true God fallen from the heavens? She watched Loki even now as he conversed with Missandei while Ser Jorah cursed several times trying to light the pile of wood before him. She laughed softly to herself as Grey Worm gently took the two stones that Ser Jorah was adamantly trying to rub together as he showed him how to chafe the rocks properly in order to light the dry grass. A few moments later and Daenerys could feel the soft glow of embers from several feet away. She chanced a glance at Loki again to find him watching her intently, the newly lit fire casting an eerie glow against his pale complexion. He jerked his head towards the fire, indicating for her to take a seat and she obliged, all the while watching as the dark shadows of the fire danced across his skin.
Missandei moved to sit on one of the logs they had placed strategically by the fire in an attempt to get warm. She turned briefly when Ser Jorah dropped a warm fur around her shoulders as she smiled at him appreciatively. Daenerys sat by her side, pleased to see that Missandei had acclimated well to her company. She truly did value the companionship of another female and she was reminded of that as Missandei immediately complimented her attire.
"You look beautiful, Khaleesi," she gushed, indicating the dark silver and navy dress that Daenerys wore. It had a large slit going up her right calve and thigh which made it easier to put her boots on but also gave the fashionable cut of Westeros warrior garbs. Daenerys never forgot the clothing style of where she was born and wore it as proudly and as often as she could.
"As always," Loki whispered in her ear as he passed behind her to sit on her other side. Daenerys shot him a look of mock pride before turning to Missandei. "Thank you, Missandei. You also look quite lovely. Westeros clothing suits you," she commented, making Missandei blush prettily. It was the truth too. Missandei looked much more becoming dressed in a cream and blue dress fit for travel but far more luxurious and attractive than the revealing clothes she had been forced to wear in Astapor.
Daenerys took a moment to admire her surroundings, her travelling party, her advisors, her friends and even - though she was hesitant to admit it - her lover all gathered around the flames. It had been quite some time since they had allowed themselves to take some enjoyment from their travels instead of constantly being on edge, planning their next move in Slaver's Bay or Daenerys' intended conquest of Westeros. They were all fairly quiet as this dawning realisation sunk in and everyone visibly relaxed. Daenerys could feel the tension seeping off of her ever so slightly and she smiled at Loki as he relished the same feeling. Her only complaint was that it was awkwardly quiet, save for the soft neighing of the horses and the distant growls of her dragons as they wrestled somewhere off in the darkness.
"Isn't this usually the part where we start trading war stories?" Ser Jorah joked, breaking the silence as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat next to Ser Barristan.
"Do you know any?" Loki shot back sarcastically. Ser Jorah grumbled and clenched and unclenched his fist as he eyed Loki in warning. Daenerys crossed her arms in irritation, not at all in the mood for their bickering especially since this was the first chance she had had in a long time to simply enjoy the stars and the warmth of roaring fire. Unpredictably it was Missandei who came to the rescue, her soft feminine voice cutting across the adamant dispute of the men.
"Where I am from, my people used to tell each other legends and stories during times of crisis," she enlightened as everyone quieted, listening to her soft explanation. "They said that it was always a comfort to know what fate has in store for us, even if it's not always what we think. Because the future is not set... it can change."
"I believe I have heard all the legends of Westeros and Essos that can be told by men," Ser Barristan remarked as he heaved some more wood into the fire before falling back into his seat. "They are all very much the same, consisting of fire and bloodshed and the return of the Gods someday. Stories like that have been around since the First Men."
"That is one thing which has always fascinated me about mortal kind," Loki said thoughtfully, making Daenerys and the others turn to face him curiously. "You have so many stories to explain your own destinies and the beginning of mankind, yet most of them are pretentious fables. They do not even come close to the real explanations for how your world came about or what fate has in store for you. And then, there are some prophecies and legends that are so ingrained in truth, it is as though the world was written from the pages of a book." Daenerys could hardly argue with that. She had seen proof of this in the very hymn that was written on the walls of Astapor, foretelling the birth of dragons and even the passing of the red comet.
"It is a somewhat amusing pastime of mine," Loki admitted with a cheeky grin. "Determining the deceivers from those who possess real power. You can never know for sure, not until you have seen those people naked and exposed." In Daenerys' case, he meant this quite literally and she blushed as she grasped his full meaning, trying not to look at him. "In any case," Loki smirked. "All legends have their place in the world. Whether it be truth or prophecy or even a warning against what may happen. Knowledge is power."
"Well put, Loki," Ser Barristan said heartily, raising his goblet of wine to toast him. "Perhaps you would care to share one of your favourites from your travels? You seem to be a most educated man."
Loki, to Daenerys' utter amusement, looked positively taken aback and even a tad embarrassed as he quickly reputed Ser Barristan's request. "I don't think so," he said hastily. "I'm not one for sharing war stories or campfire legends."
"Well that's not exactly true," Daenerys said slyly as Loki shot her a reproachful look. "You've told me many things about the places you've seen. The beauty of the realms has no boundaries. There must be something that you can share with us."
Loki looked around at the eager faces of his companions, the interest and curiosity pouring of off them without restraint. "You're not helping," he hissed at Daenerys.
"Not trying to be," she whispered back. "Come on. Surely you can indulge us in one story? Something that even you find interesting?"
Loki sighed in resignation. "I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," he grumbled resentfully as he threw a small twig into the flames in defeat. He glanced at them all once more as they waited patiently, curious and open minded. "I suppose one of the legends that I appreciated was ironically one that I heard in Germany."
He paused immediately as Ser Jorah, Ser Barristan and Missandei interrupted, all asking in unison, "What's Germany?"
"Oh, Hells," Loki cursed in exasperation. "Does it matter? It's a place I have travelled to before and I doubt any of you would have heard of it. Can we leave it at that?"
Missandei apologised immediately, her eyes downcast and submissive. "Your pardon, my Lord. Please continue."
Daenerys smiled as she saw Missandei apologise rather quickly, betraying her eagerness to hear Loki's tale. Perhaps the girl had not had the chance to listen to many fables since she was taken into slavery, though it was evidently something she enjoyed.
"The legend is that of a woman who supposedly threw herself down to the rocks of the river Rhine in anguish over the betrayal of her lover," Loki illustrated and even Daenerys found herself becoming intrigued by the prologue. "She perished there between the rocks as the waves beat against her body, haunting the river Rhine forevermore and punishing men who have been unfaithful to their women. The folk who tell this tale have even composed a sea shanty in honour of the legendary woman. Her name was Loreley."
...
Loreley
For their once was a maiden of beauty beyond compare, of heart so pure and soul so innocent that she shone with angelic light. Many wished to possess her, yet her heart, she vowed, could be gifted to only one man. She searched and she searched for years upon years until at last she found her soul mate, a gentleman whom she believed to be her equal in every way. But the heart is as sinful as men and this one gave his out to many.
The woman's love blinded her to her lover's unfaithfulness and she truly believed him when he told her they would be together until the end of time. She had convinced herself that he would not wed her purely because she was not yet with child and she believed that if she was patient, she would come to bear the fruit of their passionate labours.
But a child they could not conceive for unbeknownst to the woman, her lover was infertile and his promises of her conceiving children one day would never come to pass. He was unfaithful in all the ways a lover should never be and it was his deceitful curse which would soon be hers.
One night as she was returning from the river Rhine from whence she had been admiring some chiselled shells, she found him in bed with another woman. Heartbroken, disgraced and betrayed, she gave a great wail, letting the gathered shells fall from her dress and shatter against the cold stone floor. Picking up her skirts, she fled, ignoring the malevolent calls of her lover behind her as she tore through the woods, sticks and sharp stones cutting deep into her feet and legs but still she ran on. She neither paused nor slowed until she reached her destination, the narrow and dangerous cut of the river Rhine.
She held herself over the edge, gazing into the black swirling depths, eager to end her torment yet still afraid she would be swallowed within the chasm. Her heart felt as empty as the drop beneath her feet and she knew she would surely sink, for her fiery spirit had deserted her and her soul had turned to stone. It was then that she heard it, the soft, haunting, melodious music, drifting up from the waves and easing the pain that tore at her hardened soul. She leaned out further, held only by a slim branch which prevented her fall but was becoming precariously thin as she leaned out further still. The music was so beautiful it made her heart ache, not for her lover but for a longing to join the haunting tones that sounded from below.
In her heart she knew she could never forgive this betrayal for how could she ever learn to trust, to love another man again? She found her resolve in that moment and vowed that she would never again know the sadness that men had caused her. As her heart turned cold, her betrayal became her stronghold and her despair turned into steely determination. Men would soon know the same heartache, the same empty feelings that she had been forced to endure and in their last moments, they would despair for the lives that they would never live. Tears in her eyes, but head held high, the beauty flung herself off the ragged cliffs, plummeting sharply into the rocks below and was greeted with the cool, comforting arms of the sea. And so came the passing of the lovely Loreley, lover betrayed, maiden fair and daughter of the river Rhine.
It was never established whether it was the fall, the drowning or the rocks that killed her, but her pale body was never recovered. Strange it would seem now to think that the music she heard was simply the quiet murmuring of the rocks below, singing with the waves as they washed against the stones. Murmuring rocks or not, there are many that swear they have heard a maiden sing as they sail by on the river Rhine and some even claim to have seen a ghostly spectral of a striking woman, combing out her hair and laid out on the silver stones.
There has been no shortage of sailors and captains who have dashed their ships upon the rocks over the years, perishing either by fall or by drowning as they attempt to follow the chilling music that assails their ears. Is it rocks or is it betrayal that calls lost men to their deaths? The only ones who know for certain lay at the bottom of the Rhine. It must be said that if the maiden does dwell there, any man would be wise not to attempt to conceal a disloyal heart from her for she will reveal it to the world and take your soul to the depths as payment for your betrayal. And thus you will ever reside with Loreley in the river Rhine...
...
Daenerys and Loki
"That is the saddest tale that I have ever heard," Daenerys voiced in dismay. "So beautiful and so tragic."
"Perhaps you can see why it is a favourite among the folk who tell it," Loki agreed. "Though I am sure you have heard more tragic than that."
Daenerys shook her head. "Truthfully, I have not. Even the hymn of the lovers of the Doom bears me less sadness than this." She looked to Missandei to see the same grief stricken expression mirrored in her face. Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan looked at a loss for words, unsure if anything they said would be of any help to the situation.
Loki looked between the girls, alarmed. "Ladies, please remember this is a story. It is just an old legend derived to give cause for sailors and travellers to be weary of the cliffs."
Ser Barristan placed a reassuring hand against Missandei's shoulder. "There you see? It is just an old fable, probably a lesson for old men like me who are looking to be travelling on the waters any time soon. The evil that dwells there is just folklore."
Missandei looked a little less depressed at those words and Daenerys gave her an encouraging smile. Loki looked like he was trying not to laugh for he knew it would upset them further but he could barely contain his amusement at their expense. "Truly, you are such women. I tell you again, it is just a story. Do not fret. Even if there were any truth to it, the people of the story would be long deceased. Why mourn for them now? What makes this story any more tragic than others you have heard?"
Daenerys took a deep breath, knowing the truth in his words but felt compelled to explain her sadness all the same. "Because it is the story of every woman who has ever been betrayed," Daenerys voiced with regret. "It is the demise which although not all betrayed wives will face, many of them will crave. The lovers of the Doom were greeted into the arms of death with grace, having died together for love and devotion. Their death, while untimely, was no cause for revenge or a disturbed afterlife. This Loreley threw herself willingly into the chasm in despair, you say? That she was content to live out an eternity of her curse for she no longer found any joy left in living? Of course there is cause to mourn. How could you not?"
Loki made to tell her again that the story was just that; a story, when Daenerys cut him off. "But I know why you admire the tale," she said quickly, her eyes darting to his. "I understand. Tragedies breed courage. Your legend could be very easily misinterpreted." She sat up a little straighter then, feeling surer of her words by the second. "I think this woman threw herself off the cliffs not as an act of despair but of defiance. Now all women who ever face the betrayal of a lover will know that there is one who did not stand for it. She spent the rest of eternity punishing adulterous lovers and luring them into the same chasm as punishment for their disloyalty. No doubt extreme but still, it is an honourable lesson for all those who seek to be unfaithful." Daenerys looked directly at Ser Barristan. "Loreley was not evil. She just had her heart broken."
"It is easy to see why you are a Queen, Khaleesi," Ser Barristan voiced approvingly whilst Ser Jorah looked on proudly. He had known this about her since he had chosen to follow her. "You see the good in people, even when it would seem that their acts are treacherous."
"It is not that," Daenerys said seriously, gazing into the flames. "I just believe that everyone has cause to be the way they are. And so they can be saved."
Loki could feel the heavy lump in his stomach at her words, and Daenerys looked at him inquisitively as he avoided her gaze. "Not all," Loki growled disdainfully.
"Are you truly going to be judgemental of the way she treats her enemies?" Ser Jorah demanded harshly as the fire outlined the fury etched in his features. "After what I've seen you're capable of?" Loki bared his teeth as Ser Jorah reminded him of the Slave Master he had murdered.
"Ser Jorah, that is enough," Daenerys glared at him. "This isn't the time or the place." Missandei and Ser Barristan could feel the tension returning to the group as they shifted uncomfortably.
"You're wrong," Loki spoke severely as Daenerys turned her glare upon him. "You truly think everyone can be saved? It isn't possible."
"No," Daenerys agreed softly. "Not everyone." Loki dropped his head, his anger his only solace since he had known what her answer would be when he asked. "Only those who want to be."
His head snapped up at her final remark and he stared into her eyes to see that she was deadly serious. The fire was not just reflected in her eyes as it was the others. It burned behind her irises, bright and fierce. Loki could see the very Doom she spoke of - his own.
Daenerys turned from him to find everyone staring at her in bemusement and Missandei gave her a meaningful, perceptive smile. Daenerys blushed under her knowing gaze, aware that Missandei knew exactly what was going on between her and Loki, so she instead looked to see Loki's reaction. He was staring into the fire, his eyes empty and his face expressionless. She had never seen him appear so vulnerable and it scared her. Ser Jorah was gazing murderously at Loki and did not seem to notice that same vacant expression that she saw.
She cleared her throat in an attempt to draw the attention away from her and Loki. "Uh, Missandei, where is Kaz?" she asked distractingly. Missandei started as though just now realising his absence and quickly gazed around the camp.
"I left him in my tent some time ago to translate some High Valaryian notes. He's quite good," she remarked. As Daenerys gazed off in the direction of Missandei's tent, the other woman followed her stare pointedly. "Shall I fetch him for you, Khaleesi?" she offered but Daenerys shook her head.
"No that's alright," Daenerys said with relief standing quickly, happy for an excuse to get away from prying eyes. "I'll see to him." She strode past the others at the fire, shooting Loki one last glance but he was still gazing into the fathomless depths of the flames.
...
Daenerys
"Kaz?" Daenerys called softly, pushing aside the flapping to Missandei's tent. The boy looked up from the large text he had sprawled before him on the cushions, a large grin adorning his features at her approach.
"Khaleesi!" he exclaimed with excitement, sitting up immediately. "Missandei gave me this book to read after teaching me some Valaryian. I think I'm starting to understand some of the words!"
"That's terrific," Daenerys enthused, coming to sit beside him. "Now how about joining us at the campfire? We'd love to have your company." Seeing the boy's disappointed expression, she chuckled. "You can bring the book if you like and show me what you've learnt?" she offered, causing him to beam again.
"They were right," Kaz said happily. "You can teach me so much. I'm glad I found you." He gave her a mighty hug then and Daenerys felt her heart pull, wishing for a moment that it was her own child that she held in her arms.
She gave a timid smile as she gently embraced him before pulling away. "Missandei told you that I would teach you?" she laughed. "I think she would be a better teacher as far as languages. Although I suppose I am fairly adept with Valaryian."
"Not Missandei," he said with a cheeky grin. "Pyat! He and his friend gave me the keys to my restraints in Yunkai! They told me to run and that they would help me because I was chosen. They said if I found you, I would learn everything I needed to. Because you are chosen too! The Lord of Light has plans for us."
Daenerys' smile fell and suddenly coldness seeped across her skin. The name sounded faintly familiar and, if judging by the dread creeping across her spine, it was not a good thing. "What are you talking about?" she said quickly, grabbing his arm urgently. "What men?"
"I told you," Kaz said with puzzlement, not understanding her alarm. "His name is Pyat. He said that you knew him." He stood then, grasping Daenerys' palms. "That's okay. Come meet him and you will understand." He pulled Daenerys to her feet and attempted to tug her along after him.
Daenerys pulled his hand back firmly, and he turned to her confused. "What's wrong?" he asked.
Daenerys bent down to his level, still holding firmly to his hand. "Kaz this is important," she stressed to him. "You have to tell me what these men looked like. Right now."
Before the boy could reply, a dark silhouette looming beyond the doorway caught her eye. The breeze caught the gauzy tent flap, blowing it aside to reveal a cloaked figure, seeping sinister shadows into the room. Daenerys recoiled from the impending darkness, and held Kaz's shoulders protectively. "Who are you?" she cried daringly. "What are you doing here?"
The dark figure shook with what she assumed was silent laughter and two grisly arms raised from inside the cloak to push aside the hood. Daenerys saw pale gray eyes and blue lips as the being smirked at her.
"You," she whispered scathingly.
...
Loki
Despite gazing into the glowing embers and pointedly ignoring Daenerys as she left to seek out Kaz, Loki felt the lump in his stomach morph into ice as he turned his head quizzically. He stared into the darkness behind him, squinting suspiciously and feeling something was awry, knowing that the area behind him had been visible only moments before. Now the darkness beyond the campfire was overwhelming.
Something was wrong. A chill had crept into the camp despite the well lit fires surrounding most of the tents and since the source was not Loki, he knew that a threat loomed. His superb hearing suddenly picked up the irate calls of Daenerys' dragons and he stood abruptly, startling Missandei as he stalked past in the direction Daenerys had gone.
"Where are you going?" Ser Jorah called irritably but Loki continued without pause.
"Draw your blades," was all he said as he started running toward Missandei's tent. He could hear the knights clamber to their feet and unsheathe their swords but he could have cared less as he bolted towards the tent. Among the chatter of the Unsullied who were by their own fires, and watched him with prying eyes as he blazed past, he could hear the fearsome growls of the dragons.
Loki burst into Missaandei's tent at the same time Drogon gave an audible roar and tore through the tent material to his right, snarling and snorting smoke. Loki glared around the tent, finding nothing out of order except for its evident emptiness. "Daenerys," he growled, his eyes raking the floor, the bed, the walls and ceiling as Rhaegal and Viseryion joined their brother and pushed through the ragged opening he had made.
"Daenerys," he voiced again, softer this time, his voice breaking. Upon seeing that their mother had been taken, the dragons gave gentle wails, sounding utterly like younglings once more.
Moments later, Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan threw aside the tent flap, coming to a halt in front of Loki who stared at the dragons as they mewled in dismay. "Loki!" Ser Jorah demanded of him, trying to snap his attention. "Where is she? Where is Daenerys?"
"Gone," Loki murmured, his voice empty. And he meant it in the truest sense of the word. She was somewhere that he could not sense and her absence already made him feel colder, like he was back in Jotunheim. But he could feel something else, a darkness which made his nostrils flare. Missandei peeked into the tent and gasped as she saw the dragons become angry, gnashing their teeth as they tore into the tent rug furiously.
"Where is the Khaleesi?" she asked, reflecting their earlier question as her eyes flew to the men. Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan threw their arms up hopelessly, looking to Loki once again. Missandei understood. "Kaz?" she whispered.
Loki could feel his blood boil as he now realised that the boy was missing also. Surely that was no coincidence. Ser Barristan tried this time. "Loki?" he pried. "Do we know what happened? Where is the Queen?"
Loki snapped, rounding on the group. "Didn't you hear me?" he roared, his eyes morphing to their Frost Giant red. "I told you! She's gone! They took her!" His eyes continued to search around wildly as he scented the smell of death lingering in the air. His skin tinged blue as he growled, whirling on the group once more.
Missandei gave a cry and drew back in fear as Ser Jorah shielded her from Loki's fury. "Now is not the time to switch sides!" Ser Jorah threw at him, holding his blade out in front of him. "Are you going to help us find her or not?"
"Oh, I'll find her," Loki vowed, his uncertainty vanishing. He recognised the putrid scent now. "And then... I'll tear them apart. I'll pound their skulls until their brains burst and seep with gore and blood so there won't even be enough left for her dragons to devour!"
Ser Jorah looked at him in disgust but it was Missandei who spoke now. "Who took her?" she gasped, finding her voice though she still stared at him fearfully.
Loki looked at her then and forced his eyes and skin to return to their normal colour. "The same filth that has tried to before," he snarled. "I can feel their sordid presence all over the place."
Ser Barristan answered for all of them. "The warlocks."
...
Wowee that was an epic long chapter! But I just could NOT stop writing, had to get it all in this chapter because I couldn't bear to split it up. I hope its length satisfies the time you had to wait for it. I also updated chapter 11 to make it a little longer and to add in some parts that one my readers pointed out was missing.
I am so sorry for the wait guys and I thank you all for your patience, especially to a few of my persevering readers, namely nightmareofcat, Tashio and AkumaRule! You guys rock Also a special mention to an anonymous reader (or several) for the very thoughtful reviews you left me. Thanks guys. Also a quick announcement, I will be posting one more chapter next week before I go on holidays for two weeks overseas where I will not have access to my story. Sorry guys! But I will be posting as normal when I return Happy Halloween everyone.
P.S. My inspiration for some of this chapter comes from the German folk myth of Loreley which is actually a real legend. I wrote the 'story' scene in my own words though so hope it was okay. The song lyrics for it can be found below or you can listen to it on youtube.
...
Merrily we sailed along
Though the waves were plenty strong
Down the twisting river Rhine
Following a song...
Legend's faded storyline
Tried to warn us all
Oh, they called her "Loreley"
Careful or you'll fall...
Oh, the stories we were told
Quite a vision to behold
Mysteries of the seas in her eyes of gold...
Laying on the silver stone, such a lonely sight
Barnacles become a throne, my poor Loreley...
And the winds would cry, and many men would die
And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley...
And the winds would cry, and many men would die
And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley...
You would not believe your eyes, how a voice could hypnotize
Promises are only lies from Loreley
In a shade of mossy green, seashell in her hand
She was born the river queen, ne'er to grace the land...
And the winds would cry, and many men would die
And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley...
And the winds would cry, and many men would die
And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley...
Oh, the song of Loreley
Charms the moon right from the sky...
She will get inside your mind, lovely Loreley...
When she cries "Be with me until the end of time"
You know you will ever be with your Loreley...
And the winds would cry, and many men would die
And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley...'
And the winds would cry, and many men would die
And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley...
And the winds would cry, and many men would die
And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley...
~(Loreley —Blackmore Night)~