A/N: I apologize for my absence. This year has been . . . challenging, to say the least. But even thought I've been gone, I still get alerts on the incoming kudos and comments for this tory and they do not go unnoticed or unappreciated. I hope you all enjoy the latest installment of this story, and I will do my best to post another chapter much sooner than the ten months it took me to post this one.
Justice
After partaking in a walk around the grounds tailed by a group of Unsullied soldiers, the Lannister brothers were beginning their ascent to Jaime's chambers when Ser Barristan hurriedly approached them from around a corridor.
"Queen Daenerys has requested that you join her in the throne room. Both of you." Barristan grunted the last part with what seemed to be great difficulty as he glared in Jaime's direction.
Raising a curious eyebrow, Jaime stretched his left arm out in a gesture indicating that Barristan should lead the way.
"I don't think he's very fond of me," Jaime muttered to Tyrion from the side of his mouth.
"Whatever gave you that idea?" Tyrion replied as he increased the pace of his stunted stride, wondering what on earth would greet them in the throne room this time. Another sibling, perhaps?
Gods, please no.
Trailing Ser Barristan, the Lannister brothers stepped into the throne room and were instantly greeted by Daenerys and an eerie silence.
Oh, what the fuck did I do now? Jaime wondered silently as he remained by Tyrion's side.
He'd not been absent from his chambers for an hour if that; even he couldn't have caused this much turmoil in such a short length of time. Opening his mouth, he was about to say just that when two Unsullied hauled in the small Meereenese man that he recognized from Dany's small council.
"Why?" Dany demanded breathlessly, her other-worldly eyes wide with hurt as she stared down at the man on his knees before her.
"For you, Mhysa. You wanted the Harpy dead, but your hands were tied. I set you free, as you did all of us!" Mossodor explained.
"He was our prisoner, awaiting trial." Dany's voice shook. "You had no right."
"He would rather rip your city apart than see slaves lifted from the dirt!" Mossodor argued.
"There are no more slaves. There are no more Masters." Dany breathed.
"Then who lives in the pyramids? Who wears gold masks and murders your children? When Grey Worm came to us, I was the first to take up the knife for you!" He beat his chest in declaration. "I remember the look on my father's face as I struck down his master, who had traded his infant son for a dog. My father died in the fighting. If we allow the Sons of the Harpy to return us to chains, it will be as if he never lived!"
"The Harpy's life was not yours to take. Once, the Masters were the law—"
"—and now you are the law."
"The law is the law." Dany replied with a firm note of finality in her voice, then more quietly to her guards. "Take him."
Quickly moving forward, Tyrion appeared by Dany's side. "Your Grace, are you certain—"
Dany cut him off with a fierce look, causing the youngest Lannister to wisely hold his tongue for once.
The chants of Mhysa rang in the air as Daenerys and her guard stepped out in front of the large crowd.
While Jaime had followed along with his brother, feeling that at any moment he would be stopped, the Unsullied soldiers seemed much too preoccupied with their current prisoner to take much notice of his presence.
"You opened your gates to me because I promised you freedom and justice," Dany began, addressing the crowd, her voice strong and powerful. "One cannot exist without the other."
Jaime watched Daenerys. Her voice was strong, but there was a sadness in her dark blue eyes that could not be overlooked as the Unsullied marched Mossodor out in their clutches. She didn't want to do this.
I am not my father… Her words from the previous night echoed in his head.
And yet even as he watched her men place Mossodor on his knees for what was sure to be his execution, Jaime could not find it within himself to fault her. This wasn't some lewd show put on display like the Mad King had been prone to do. This was the last thing in the world that Daenerys desired, that was obvious, but this was justice. This was her duty.
"Brother! Brother!" The desperate chants sang out around them all.
"Mhysa, please! Forgive me!" Mossodor cried.
Dany stared out at the people, a glazed look taking over her features. Jaime continued to watch only her as she stepped forward and addressed her new people.
"A citizen of Meereen was awaiting trial and this man murdered him. The punishment is death."
"Mercy! Mercy!" The cries grew louder.
Dany looked to Daario, held his gaze for just a second, then nodded once.
Daario extended his ahkrah and moved behind Mossodor.
The people continued to beg for mercy. Dany watched them, taking it all in.
"Mhysa," Mossodor begged, his dark eyes full of tears.
Dany continued to stare out at the crowd. Beside her, she could hear Mossodor beginning to pray in High Valyrian.
If I look back I am lost.
Looking to Daario, she gave one final nod.
The crowd responded instantly as Daario thrust his weapon down in one swift motion, the sound of hisses leaving their mouths as Mossodor's head rolled across the deck.
Jaime's eyes widened as he quickly anticipated what was to come and moved to shield Daenerys without a second thought, his good hand moving to grip her upper arm before pulling her close. Feeling his sudden but firm grip, Dany looked up to meet Jaime's eyes, her breath catching in her throat as the scene around them erupted into violence.
Nodding into the direction before them, he pulled her small body against him, shielding her as the Unsullied followed suit, raising their shields above, beside and in front of her to block any further blows.
Long ago Jaime had sworn to protect the Targaryens, and even though Daenerys had not yet been born at the time he'd taken that oath, a ridiculous sense of honor apparently still clung to him. He would not let her be harmed.
Once returning to the Great Pyramid, Daenerys sat around her table with her council. The room was eerily silent as the day's events wore heavily on them all. As usual, Tyrion was the first to speak.
"A ruler who kills those that are devoted to her is not a ruler that inspires devotion. You're going to need to inspire devotion, and lots of it, if you're ever going to rule across the Narrow Sea."
"It's easier to rule happy subjects than angry ones. Perhaps if you were to reopen the fighting pits…" Hizdahr began.
"I will hear no more of the fighting pits, Hizdahr. Did I not make myself clear before?"
"The fighting pits?" Jaime asked from his seat at the table.
"Where slaves fought slaves to the death," Dany explained.
"In the new world that you've brought to us, free men would fight free men." Hizdahr explained. "The pit fighters you liberated plead for this opportunity. Bring some here and ask them yourself."
"How many times must I say no before you understand?" Dany demanded with cold eyes.
"The fighting pits seem to be tradition, like the jousts we have in King's Landing." Jaime made his observation known, earning the room's attention.
"I have not been to what you call a 'joust' but yes, it is Meereen's greatest tradition." Hizdahr agreed.
"I will not support the tradition of human cock-fighting. The fighting pits aren't some festival for entertainment, men are put to their deaths!" Dany seethed.
"Clearly you've never been to a Westerosi tourney before." Jaime reasoned.
"So you approve of this?" Dany demanded of Jaime, anger flashing through her eyes like the storm she was named for.
"It doesn't matter what I approve of, what matters is what your people want, and you've upset them . . . to put it mildly."
"I don't need a lecture on your disapproval of my choices—"
"I think what you did was incredibly brave."
Dany hesitated, surprised by Jaime's response. The two stared at each other as the room around them grew tense.
"But as you have seen," Jaime continued. "There will be repercussions. Reopening the fighting pits might lessen the blow of those repercussions." Opening and closing his left hand, he gave a shrug of his shoulders. "It is of course your choice, Your Grace."
"Leave us," Dany ordered her council.
Tyrion hesitated, narrowing his eyes at his older brother in a silent warning before turning and exiting the room.
"Tell me of these tourneys that are celebrated in your homeland."
"Westeros is your homeland, too, Your Grace. Best to start acting like it."
"Thank you for your advice," Dany replied icily as she crossed her arms tightly over her chest. "But this is different, this is barbaric—"
"It is and it isn't."
Dany stared, waiting for Jaime's words to start making sense.
"It's bloody death, but it's a show to the people of Meereen the way jousting is a show to the people of King's Landing."
"And you think I should do this to win their favor? That I should grant them this obscene wish?"
"I think if you want to avoid a rebellion like the one your father faced, you'll want to consider it."
Turning away from Jaime, Daenerys shook her head slowly as she began to move outside to her terrace, her long skirts swirling after her. "Enough of this talk for tonight."
Jaime hesitated, but then stood to leave.
"Where are you going?"
"Your Grace—"
"Enough talk of the fighting pits. I'd like to hear more of your stories. It's been a long day, and I could use the distraction."
Nodding his understanding, Jaime moved forward, and within a few steps he stood directly beside Daenerys on the terrace.
"Perhaps you'd like to call for your sellsword?" Jaime quipped before he could stop himself, Tyrion's words regarding Daario Naharis from earlier still fresh in his mind. "I've heard he's been very good at providing distractions for you."
"Careful, ser." Dany warned.
The two continued to stare each other down for a heated moment. Finally, Dany continued, her voice high with amusement. "You disapprove?"
When Jaime said nothing, she tossed her head back with a laugh. It was a sound that he thought he could have delighted in, had it not been made to spite him.
"You had a sexual relationship with the queen — your sister — for decades behind the king's back. You are the last person that should be giving me advice about whom I should invite into my bed."
Jaime's anger began to flare at the mention of Cersei. "Perhaps you should have tried it, Your Grace. After all, you yourself are the product of incest, and you know what they say—"
"The only way my brother ever touched me was in anger, and the last time he did so I gave the order that ended his life."
Jaime stilled. He had heard of Viserys' death, though not in great detail. He had hoped that the rumors he'd heard of her brother's madness rivaling that of her father's had been false.
"He deserved it then." Jaime replied, his voice softening as he felt a pang of pity as well as something he couldn't quite identify in his chest at the thought of Daenerys spending all those years at the mercy of her older brother. It seemed far too cruel that she could have had a brother as kind and brave as Rhaegar, yet as mad and vicious as Viserys.
"He did, didn't he?" Dany smiled sadly. "Murdered by the man he sold me to."
Lowering her gaze, she pressed her lips together.
"What is it like to hold a sword with your left hand?" Dany asked, wanting desperately to change the subject. This conversation had taken a sudden steering into a territory she had never discussed with anyone, and the idea of Jaime Lannister being the first to explore it with her seemed completely absurd.
Jaime turned his left hand over, palm out as he considered her question. "I can hold a sword, but my instincts are all wrong."
"We can't very well have that, now can we?"
"What would you suggest, Your Grace? Do you happen to have a potion that grows back hands?"
Dany smirked. "I happen to have the greatest swordsman in Westeros as Captain of my Queensguard."
Jaime opened his mouth to protest, but was promptly cut off as the young queen continued.
"You'll begin training with Ser Barristan tomorrow."
"Your Grace—" Jaime protested.
"Do you have some other way you'd prefer to spend your time?"
"Well, I thought I might see the sights . . . " He offered lamely.
Dany glared at him with that near pout he was becoming more and more accustomed to seeing, and perhaps even enjoying.
Sighing in defeat, he somehow found himself bowing his head in consent. "Thank you, your Grace. I would be honored."
"You can thank me later, Jaime Lannister. Perhaps by serving me on the battlefield."