A Helping Hand

So, I've decided to change some things. Ashara will no longer be a lover of Daimon, but a mother figure of sorts, much like Torrhen Stark will be a father figure. He will still have two lovers however. One of course is Dany, and the other is an OC of mine, who you all will hopefully like. Throughout the beginning of chapters, there will be flashbacks, to help show moments of Daimon's time freeing slaves.

With all of that said, let's get started!

NOTE! This is Game of Thrones! Expect 18+ Content such as: Swearing, Adultery, Rape, Slavery, Gore, Blood, etc

NOTE! I own nothing except for House Abaddon and those of the house! Everything else belongs to HBO and G.R.R.M.

NOTE! Bold text means 'speaking in Valyrian'

NOTE! Italics text means Flashback

NOTE! Underlined text means 'speaking Dothraki'

Enjoy!

- Year 2 of being Free -

Pain. It was all he was in. He had been seperated from the others. It had been two years since he became a free man, now holding 12 years in the realm. His clothing had all been torn, leaving him nearly nude as he traveled through the dark forests. They had sent assassins to take down those rebelling against the slave masters, and thankfully only a few had been found and killed. He knew he had to get back to their safe point. It was the only area no slave master or assassin knew of.

A few of his old wounds had been reopened from the few times they were able to land hits on him. It would seem all those times in the fighting pits has made him better in combat. He was basically skilled with any type of weapon at this point. Within his hand now, he held a small dagger, small enough to hide in the smallest of spots.

Hearing the voices slowly fade away, he came to a stop, leaning against a tree for support. His breathing was heavy from the amount of running he had just done. As he dropped to his knee's, he felt his bone began to ache after landing against something much harder than the ground itself. Holding his aching knee, Daimon looked down, before seeing something that shined in the sun's light. It definitely wasn't meant to be in the ground, and from the looks of it, with just a small bit of digging he could get it out.

And with that, he got to work, moving as fast as it pained body could move. He moved the dirt, pebbles and sticks as quick as possible. Finally, he was able to remove it from the ground. He was astonished from what he was seeing. It was in the shape of an egg, a large egg, much bigger than even his head, small scales formed across it. All of it was colored a shining and beautiful silver, with small specks of gold on the bottom.

Just from the sight of it, he knew exactly what it was.

- Present Time -

For Daenerys Targaryen, life wasn't as pleasant for her and her people. They were abandoned within the red waste. Most of the now dead Khal Drogo's khalisar had left. Only a handful had stayed with her, all in shock after they witnessed her leave the fire unburnt with 3 newborn Dragons.

Daenerys had sent three of the remaining khalisar to search for lands, anything that could help them. One had already returned...with his head cut off and his braid cut.

The rest of the khalisar had nothing to do but sit there and wait for a miracle. And it would seem luck was on their side. The sound of a horse trotting across the sand filled land...two horses to be exact. The rider had returned, with a fresh host and a friend it would seem. The person with him was a male with long dark brown hair, nearly black, and grey colored eye's. He also had a small goatee. Strapped at his side was a blade.

Daenerys got to her feet, quickly approaching the two, as her khalisar member dropped down from the saddle of the horse.

"You found help, I presume?" She asked, looking towards the other man, who was staring right back at her.

"Yes, Khaleesi. This man here has told me he has friends who may be willing to help." The rider spoke, as the other man watched.

"You have people who could help me and my people?" Daenerys asked the man.

"I do, lots of food and water." The man pulled something off of his belt, showing it to be a canteen. "Just a small bit of what is at my campsite. I'm sure you have heard of The Forgotten Ones." The man spoke, but Daenerys shook her head at his statement, turning to Ser Jorah who had just walked up.

"What have you heard of these Forgotten Ones?" She asked.

"They are led by a man known as Daimon of the House Abaddon, the same house that supported your house ever since Aegon's Conquest. He goes by many names. The HellHound, the King of the Free, the Sword of the Seven Hells. A former slave before he was freed and led a rebellion against the Slave Masters. The Slavers Rebellion they call it. From what I had last heard, he has 20,000 freed men and women fighting alongside him." Ser Jorah stated.

"It's now 30,000. Started at the smaller slave cities and has worked his way up." The man stated.

"How well do you know of the man yourself, ser..."

"No Ser Daenerys Targaryen, but still one of the Captains of the Forgotten Ones. Torrhen Stark." At the mention of his last name, he could see a small bit of anger appear on Daenerys face. "Just in case you were wondering, I haven't been in Westeros for 20 years, 3 years before Roberts Rebellion. I hold no true ties with my family any longer."

"And for what reason were you exhiled?" Daenerys asked, as the man allowed a small smirk on his face.

"If I haven't even told Daimon that information, don't believe I would tell you." The man said, turning his horse. "Best collect your Khalisar, it's a days ride to our current camp sight."

- The Following Day -

Just as Torrhen had stated, it had been a day's ride, before banners could be seen in the near distance. It held a gold background, with a black hellhound head on it. It the hounds mouth was what could be made out to be a masters whip. Behind the hounds head, was a symbol(Assassin's Creed Symbol) Camps covered the horizon. From the looks of it, this was no where near enough to hold 30,000 warriors.

"I thought you said your army held 30,000." Daenerys turned to Torrhen, who chuckled at her statement.

"Our camps are split into 3 different sections, covers more land. 10,000 in each." Torrhen responded before heading forward. The group walked through the camp, many of the people in front of tents turning to look at them. They weren't hostiles stares, more so those of curious people. Torrhen handed the reigns to his horse to one of the soldiers, before continuing to lead the group.

Torrhen came to stop abruptly. What Daenerys saw gave her some shock. It was a large wolf, much larger than any wolf, with blood red eye's. It's fur as dark as a starless sky. Torrhen bent down, petting the wolf on the side of it's head.

"A wolf?"

"Direwolf to be exact. It's a wonder what you can find across the realm. His names Phantom. Don't worry about him harming your people, he has certain commands for attacks." Torrhen explained as they continued forward, Phanton now at Torrhen's side. Soon enough, they came upon the largest tent in the entire camp, right in the middle of the camp itself. Torrhen turned to face Daenerys. "Wait here for one moment. Need to let him know you're here. And to make sure you don't walk in on him when he isn't presentable."

Torrhen entered the tent, and Daenerys couldn't help but listen in.

"Daenerys Targeryen? Any sure way to know she's who she says she is?" A new voice said, deep but calm, with a soothing tone in it, yet it also held a tone that commanded respect.

"Well if the silver hair and purple eye's aren't enough, then I don't know what is. She and her people could use our help though." Torrhen spoke, making the other person laugh.

"And yet two of my captains hold the same appearance, one that isn't a Targaryen, the other only Targaryen in name." The other voice said. "Alright, let her in. I'll make my decision after I meet and speak with her myself."

"As you wish." Torrhen came back out of the tent, holding it open for Daenerys to enter, Ser Jorah at her side. When she entered, the first thing she saw was the beauty sat on one of the seats. She had long, midnight black hair, parts of it tied into braid, 2 on the sides of her head and 2 on top of her head, all connected into one large braid in the back of her head, a few strands falling down the front of her body and helping frame her face. Overall, her hair reached down to her lower back. Her eye's however, was just like her's, the distinctive Targaryen purple eye's. She wasn't dressed like normal woman, dressed more in a man's attire. A grey tunic that came down in 4 pointed ends, a long sleeved top underneath that came down like a skirt. She is also wearing brown trousers tucked into equally brown boots. Strapped to her side was a blade, a second one strapped to her back as well.

The other figure in the room, was definitely handsome, even with his scars. He held long black hair, most of it coming down the right side of his head, with the ends coming down the front of his body. Of course, the part that stood out the most were his golden colored eye's, and the 2 scars across the edge of his left eye. He also has a black beard, framing his jawline. His is wearing a near white tunic that comes down below his waist in 4 different ends. In the middle of the tunic, is a vertical symbol, each end having 3 spiked ends. Underneath the top is a dark purple tunic that ends just lower then the other top, coming down as if like a skirt. Across his waist is a belt, with the same symbol on the banners just outside the tent, made out of metal. His trousers are dark blue, being tucked into black boots. Over his forearms are light brown sleeves, with something attached to the underside, while his hands are covered by gray gloves. Attached to his belt, is a loop of chains, with what seems to be a metal pointed end on one side, as if it could be used as a weapon. Over his entire clothing, is a black cloak, coming down to his knee's. It is left opened, being held down by a dark grey strap that holds the two blades attached to his back.

The first blade has a golden handle, with what looks like a blood red eye at it's end. It has two looped ends where the hands go, as the metal itself is of a red color, kept in a white sheath. The second blade also has a golden handle. It holds a blue jewel in it's center, while near the actual metal are two ends, just as it were a battle axe. Just like the other blade, the metal of this sword is blood red.

When the man looked up and at her, she could swear it was like he was looking right into her soul, searching for anything that could bring harm to he and his people.

"So...you're Daenarys Targaryen?" He asked her, as he stood up straight, showing he was much taller than her, around the same height of her late husband Khal Drogo.

"I am, and you must be Daimon Abaddon." She responded, causing the man to smirk.

"That I am." He slowly walked closer, looking at her face with a raised eyebrow. "Hmm, yes, I can definitely see Rhaegar within your looks." He said, shocking Daenerys a bit, though she didn't show it.

"You knew my brother?" She asked, as he gave a short nod.

"I did. Once a great man, until he got to into his prophecies and started a damn rebellion due to his actions. He did what he believed was right, stealing away another mans betrothed. His actions basically started the whole thing that cost me most of my family, all but one." The way Daimon spoke made it seem like he had hated Rhaegar, but that wasn't the case.

"I never knew him personally."

"Oh, I know, you weren't even born yet. I was only five when it all happened." Daimon moved away from her and over to a table of fruits. "Anyways, you aren't here to hear of my memories. You are here for my help." Daimon turned to Torrhen and the woman still sat down. "See that her Khalisar gets food." They both nodded before walking out of the tent. "Help yourself to the fruit here. Let us talk."

Daimon sat at one of the tables, pouring himself a cup of wine. Daenerys slowly walked over, sitting across from him. Daimon looked over at Ser Jorah, a small frown coming upon his face.

"You are Ser Jorah Mormont. A man who sold slaves once in your life." Daimon spat out, as Ser Jorah seemed to shrink under his gaze.

"I didn't do because I enjoyed it, I did it for the woman I loved."

"It doesn't matter what you did it for. The selling of slaves in any way is something I will never tolerate. If you weren't here with Daenerys Targaryen, then I would kill you where you stand." Daimon spoke. From the threat, Ser Jorah put his hand on his sword. Before anyone could speak, the sound of growling was heard behind the two newcomers to the camp. They both turned, Daenerys coming face to face with the giant animal. It's fur red, like it was covered in blood. It's eye's souless white, while it's right eye was kept closed due to the scar covering that eye.

"Another Direwolf?" Daenerys asked with a bit of fear in her voice, as the animal looked her right in the eye's. It was like it could smell her fear.

"No, their are only two Direwolves in this entire army. I'm sure you met Phantom. The other isn't here right now." Daimon stated, an amused smirk on his face.

"Then what is it?" She asked.

"Think, love. What house am I apart of, and what is the sigil of my house?" Daimon asked, even more amused after seeing the glare Jorah sent him after he called Daenerys 'love'.

"...A Hellhound..." Daenerys muttered, making Daimon nod.

"The last Hellhound was seen long ago, alongside my Great Grandfather, Lord Daimon II Abaddon. And now there are two more."

"Two?" Daenerys turned to look at Daimon.

"I did say I lost most of my family, all but one. Another of my captains, my Second-in-command to be exact. My little sister, Alaerya Abaddon. Just like me, she has her Hellhound companion. Since she is my second-in-command, I did give her control over one of our other camp sights, leading another 10,000 of our capable warriors." Daimon turned to the Hellhound, which was still growling at Daenerys. Daimon's face turned stern. "Scar!" He yelled before whistling. The Hellhound gave a small whine, before going to Daimon's side. He slowly placed his hand on top of the hounds head, making it give what looked like a smile. "Now, tell me. What is it you want to do with your life? Your main goal?"

"To retake the Iron Throne." She didn't hesitate with her answer.

"I see...tell me, have you ever sat on the Iron Throne yourself?"

"N-No."

"Then wouldn't it be better to say 'take' the Iron Throne? Anyone who has ever wanted to sit on that damn chair, has been consumed by their greed for power. If you desire to take the Iron Throne, then what's not to say the same will happen for you? What's to say you won't become the same as your father?" Daimon asked. Daenerys knew she had to do something to get him to help her.

"While we were on the run from the Usurpers assassin's, my brother Viserys always told me something of importance." Daenerys went silent for a second, Daimon raising his eyebrow in curiosity. "Every great Targaryen King had an Abaddon as their hand. It was said that Abaddon's were able to keep the Targaryen's from going mad. What's to say the same can't be said for now?"

Daimon knew of these tales. It was how Aegon the Conquerer did not go mad. He had Dreyar Abaddon as his hand. The same was said for many other Targaryen Kings during their reigns.

"So you wish for me to bring my army and help you take the Iron Throne. That's what it is isn't it?"

"Our families together have kept peace in the Seven Kingdoms. We would be able to do the same." Daenerys states. Daimon gave a laugh. He knew of the families history together.

"You see, with all that said, I would help you in your journey, but I still have slaves to free from their chains." Daimon says with crossed arms.

"How many cities are there left with slaves?" Daenerys asked.

"If I remember correctly, three. Astapor, Yunkai, and Meereen. They are the largest of the slave cities, and if I were to go after those ciities first all those years ago, I would have been killed. Astapor is known for the Unsullied, though they are not the only city to have Unsullied. In fact, some members of the Forgotten Sons are Unsullied, 5,000 of them in total."

"All from one city?"

"Oh no, they were all from different cities. 200 from one, another 500 from another, and so on. Astapor has a total of 8,000 unsullied. After Astapor comes Yunkai, and finally the biggest slave city of them all, Meereen. The very same city I was once a slave in."

Suddenly, the flap of the tent came up, revealing Torrhen.

"Daimon, our scouts have found a party of assassins nearby." Daimon stood up from his seat, his face turning serious.

"How many?"

"From their estimates, around 8,000 and they are usually never wrong." Torrhen replied, making Daimon sigh as he turned to looked down at Daenerys.

"My apologies, love. It would seem our conversation has to be cut short. We deal with these assassin's nearly every new moon, the slave masters don't like me all too much. Keep tight and try to stay out of the way of the conflict." Daimon turned to his red furred companion. "Scar." He gave a short whistle, the Hellhound moving to his side. "We'll continue where we left off when this is over and done with." He stated, before leaving the tent.

Daenerys watched him walk out with curiosity sitting within her violet colored eye's, before turning to Ser Jorah.

"What do you make of him?" She asked.

"He'd be a good allie to have when you finally return to Westeros. A capable warrior himself, with a good sized army. He is most definitely someone you'd want on your side in the wars to come for the Iron Throne." Ser Jorah answered.

.

.

.

It had been about three hours before the conflict ended, Daenerys and Ser Jorah only knowing through the silence that ran through the camp now. The two walked out of Daimon's tent, seeing just how many people died. It seemed to them that very little of the Forgotten Ones had been killed, judging from the looks of their clothing. If the person did not hold the Forgotten Ones Banner on their clothing, they were an enemy.

Soon enough, the two came to where Daimon was, sitting on a boulder cleaning one of his blades. It was hard to tell if there was blood on it due to the steels red color. The only evidence of the blood being the liquid dripping off the end of the blade. No one else was around him, not even Scar. Without even looking up, Daimon began to speak.

"Hellfyre, my family's ancestral blade. The one who wields it is known as the Sword of the Seven Hells. Devil's Eye, my family's second ancestral sword. Both blades made of a rare steel known as Abrium. Just as strong as Valyrian Steel.

A mans scream made Daimon sheath his blade quickly, throwing the now bloodied rag to the side. He stood quickly, ducking underneath the swung blade aimed at his neck, rapidly grabbing the man's sword arm and forcing him to drop his blade, before keeping the arm behind the man's back. From Daimon's forearm sleeve, up came a small blade(hidden blade), now held at the man's neck. Daenerys was definitely impressed by his speed.

"Screaming as you near your target, must not be that good of an assassin." Daimon spoke in a joking tone of voice. He held the small blade so close to the man's neck, it was poking the skin, just not enough to draw blood. "Tell me, who sent all of you? Lie to me and I'll make your death slow and painful." From the change in his tone of voice, the man could tell Daimon was not playing around.

"T-The Good Masters of Astapor. T-They heard of how close you Forgotten Ones were getting to their city, and wanted you done with. Please." The man pleaded for his life. Daimon chuckled, before removing the blade from the man's neck. When it seemed he was going to let the man go, he suddenly slammed the mans head against the boulder he was just sat on, the small blade piercing through the back of his head. Daimon slowly removed the blade, revealing it now covered in blood.

Daimon kicked the body to the side, picking up the rag to wipe off his small blade, before retracting it back into it's hiding spot.

"I apologize you had to see that side of me. Living a life in war is never easy."

"It's quite alright, I've seen much worse already." Daenerys replied, walking closer.

"So, going back to our conversation from earlier, I would love to help you in taking the Iron Throne, but I refuse to leave this side of the Narrow Sea until all Slaves are freed from their chains." Daimon stated, cracking his neck mid-way through his sentence. Daenerys had three hours to think on how to get his help, and now she knew it.

"What if I were to help you in ending slavery within the last three Slave cities?" She asked, causing Daimon to look up at her. His eye's held curiosity.

"Tell me then, is this out of the good of your heart, or is it just to achieve my aid?" Daimon asked.

"No, I truly wish to help. I've seen slavery just a bit when I ventured with the Dothraki. After every village raiding, they'd take women and children apart of their Khalisar. It wasn't truly called slavery, but it is what it appeared to be, at least in my eye's. Then, I had no way of stopping it, but if I could now, I would do so without a second thought. Yes, I do wish to venture to Westeros as soon as possible, but doing some good in Essos before then seems more important right now, especially when I'm closer to this than the Iron Throne." Daenerys spoke with passion filling every word that came from her mouth.

Daimon looked up at her with a small smile, amusement filling his eye's. This truly was the first time he looked at her thoroughly, and he could not help but let his eye's wander.

"Either you told me nothing but the truth, or you are a natural at politics and negotiations." He spoke with a small chuckle, before he stood, now looking down at her. A small smile was plastered on her face, only making her look even more beautiful than she already was. "You'd best get washed up love, get all of the Red Waste off of you, we ride for Astapor at first light.

Hopefully that was enjoyable. Originally, I was going to have the Forgotten Ones have 60,000 men and women, but brought it down to half. There are more captains to meet, but that is for later chapters. This is the first meeting between the two future lovers, how was it? If you have any suggestions on how to officially get them together, then let me know. Anything helps!

Next time, we arrive in Astapor, until then...

Have a good one!