It was a calm day in the Free City of Volantis, with merchants shouting about their wares, slaves going about their work, and everyone generally ignoring the various beatings that were happening as masters took out their frustrations on their slaves. The great conquering fleet had been cast off not three months ago, and with every day that passed the Masters grew more confident that the Dragon Queen had been beaten down and the cities of Slaver's Bay returned to the hands of the Great, Wise, and Good Masters.
They would not know that they were to be disappointed until the first day of Winter, when the sky above the city turned a wretched green. Lightning sparked across the discolored clouds, as three massive shapes flew from a crack in the sky. Terrible roars shook the city at its foundation, and with sudden certainty, the entire city went mad.
Slaves found their strength and turned on their hated Masters, tearing into them with the knowledge that a reckoning had come for those who had tried to destroy their beloved Empress. And Daenerys Stormborn was well loved in all of the Free Cities. She had brought freedom to the broken, lain waste to the masters, and taken back everything that had ever been stolen from her.
Her god was no less loved than the Empress, for they knew that for every slave that Daenerys freed, the Storm God freed six more. Priests and Priestesses of the Storm God had spread like a cancer through Essos, telling of both the great and terrible nature of Marian Hawke. It was known that she was the goddess incarnate, that her every action was a divine mandate.
If Marian knew the kind of following that she had erected without intention, she would have been both horrified and humored by the situation before trying to explain that she was not actually a god. Unfortunately, she would have been lying.
In the history of the world, there had never been one so powerful in the ways of magic with such a physical presence about her. In the North of Westeros, the Old Gods had been on the decline for centuries, losing ground to the Faith of the Seven. The Faith of the Seven was a powerful pantheon in its own right, but the actions of its followers besmirched its intention and as a result they could not intervene directly in the affairs of mortal men and women. R'hllor, the Red God, was the most active of the original gods of the world, but his goal had always been the aversion of the Long Night. He was the Azor Ahai dead and alive in the heavens, trying to reach down and tell his people how to destroy his most hated enemy. But his followers, like those of the Seven, often missed what he wanted them to hear, and as a result horrors had been committed in his name.
Marian was not as limited as the original gods, for she was present on the world as her divinity was confirmed. Her works were witnessed and recorded, her message was simple, and her demeanor endearing. People couldn't help following her when they saw her in action, because she was more powerful, more odd, and more honest than any other god they knew. And as she tore a hole through the sky above Volantis and let loose the Dragons, she made a hundred thousand new converts in an instant.
As the Dragon's soared through the Volantis sky, her voice echoed out louder than any heard in the past, "Volantis will surrender itself to the Maw! Daenerys Stormborn is merciful, she is patient, but she is neither to her enemies! Your leaders have two hours to decide upon the fate of your city; destruction or submission! Choose wisely!"
The sound dies slowly, the echo reaching every corner of the most powerful of the Free Cities. Men, women, and children cast their eyes up towards the circling monsters that had last haunted them in the days of Old Valyria. There was silence for a long moment, before the chaos resumed.
It was quick, it was brutal, and in the end a thousand Masters lay dead in the streets while the city's rulers rode out to meet with Daenerys and her God.
They did not wait long, for as soon as they had set down their table to treat with the Empress, the Dragons crashed into the earth before them. Sliding from their backs were three people, two were clearly of Valyrian descent. There was the Empress, garbed in a flowing dress and breaches underneath, the known sellsword who proved to be Aegon Targaryen, and then there was the dark haired sorceress who could be none other than Marian Hawke.
As soon as all three were before the council of merchants who ruled the city, the merchants bowed and their leader, "We submit to your will, your grace, and beg for your mercy."
Dany raises an eyebrow and turns to regard her companions, Marian shrugs as usual but Aegon shakes his head. The Empress nods, taking his counsel into mind and turns back to the merchants, "You, and the other Free Cities attacked my Empire without provocation, warning, or attempt at diplomacy."
"No more than what you yourself did to Astapor, your grace," one of the merchants can't help but bite back in response
"True," Dany nods, "Which is why I do not hold the attack against you. I threaten your way of life, you sought to end that threat. But now you have failed, and so the question stands… what am I to do?"
She stalks, moving like a cat about to pounce, to the chair that had been set at the table for her. It was very carefully more ornate than the one opposite it, which the merchant ruler would sit in. With a smile, she sits and waves for the merchant king to do so as well.
The man does, nervously, as she tells him, "My nephew suggests I reduce your city to ash, make a warning of you against the perils of trying to attack me. Marian, you may know her as the Storm God, urges me to think of the young and the slaves of your city, and simply execute any Master over the age of fifteen."
The Merchant Masters exchange terrified looks, hoping that she had not listened to either. They would be happy to know that for the most part that she did not, "I have chosen to not heed either of their advice, because my third advisor, Ser Barristan Selmy, tells me that it is something my father would have done. You are to be glad that I do not wish to be like my father, or the Mad Queen in King's Landing."
"Then… what will you do with us?" The Merchant King asks
"Volantis will now truly live up to its name," Daenerys declares, "There will be no more slavery, and those that made their fortunes off of the backs of those same slaves shall give that same ill gotten wealth to the city so that Volantis will pay for the upkeep of the now freed citizens. Is that understood?"
The Merchants around the King look at each other with both relief and horror, knowing that it is they who will suffer under this new declaration. It was their wealth more than any other's that had grown thanks to the suffering of slaves. But they had no choice, so they accepted.
Dany smiles when confirmation is given, "Good, a detachment of Scalebound will assist the city in keeping the peace. They will also be reporting to me, as will my Spymaster. Do not make me return in anger."
The men, now simply merchants in charge of nothing, nod, and then watch in terror as the Storm God tears another hole in existence and that hole disgorges a thousand well armed and armored men in scaled armor, clearly the Empress's army.
"Good news, Trod!" the Storm God tells the commander of the Scalebound happily, "You don't have to kill anyone."
The Scalebound nods, and the three dragon riders return to their mounts. As they rise up into the air, Marian Hawke's voice echoes out once more, "Alright! Everyone's free, so no more slavery and all that. Do not kill people, or the Scalebound'll have to kill you. They're really good at that. Uh…. Oh! You need to be nice to each other, starting now, or I'll get mad. Alright… that's all for now… bye! We've gotta go do this to the rest of the Free Cities, so have fun with being conquered!"
And then the giant hole in the sky closes, leaving many people in awe of the Storm God, and very confused.
