AN: It's Wednesday, my dudes! As promised, here comes another flashback chapter to the earlier seasons and how my twist would have changed these events. Many of them stay the same, so I will not simply write them down again to increase the runtime of this story. I know some of you might find it sad since you like long stories. So do I sometimes, but in these past months, I have found myself working a lot, with little free time, and I have enjoyed shorter fanfics that get straight to the point. That's why this is one such, why it will show only some scenes and assume you know the others, and why it will have 10 chapters only. That being said, this chapter does not only twist Daenerys's relationship with some characters, but it also introduces aspects and characters that were completely different or not there in canon. Let me know what you make of this choice!

A Gathering of Friends

She needed more allies. Taking her khalassar to Astapor, Daenerys had much and more time to think about the days to come, but whenever she got lost in detail, these were the words that it all boiled down to. She needed loyalty, she needed support, and most of all she needed friends. True, she had some of that already, but Ser Jorah, her bloodriders and her handmaidens were not nearly enough. There were more to come, she knew that as well, but not even those would she be satisfied with. In another life, Daenerys might not have known enough of the world to know who to reach out to, but this time she did. She yearned for more.

Once they finally arrived at Astapor and were offered a choice of silver and horses (if they spared the city) or the tips of the Unsullieds' spears (if they foolishly attacked), Daenerys instead asked for another option. She had not come to be bought off, but to buy, and she did not require riches, but only safe passage into the city and some small services. Naturally, those demands were granted, for the masters of Astapor did not take a half-grown woman to be truly dangerous, no matter how many savages she supposedly led into battle or how many fabled monsters she was rumoured to possess.

So Daenerys entered the city unharmed and was given the opportunity to write and send as many letters as she pleased. The masters cared not for a foolish little girl writing home letters to friends in a faraway country, so long as her warriors camped outside the city, and so long as the promise of coin was dangled in front of them. After all, she had implied that she was here to buy, and what other thing could be of interest to her if not the Unsullied, Astapor's pride? No, the question was not "if" the silver khaleesi wanted Unsullied, it was simply "how many".

"All?" The dark-haired translator repeated in calm confusion. "Did this one's ears mishear Your Grace?"

Daenerys fought hard to suppress a smile at seeing and listening to the girl who she was certain would be a true friend to her in this life as well. But she would not let the masters see what they were not able to understand anyway, at least not yet.

"No, they did not," she simply answered. "I want to buy them all."

The girl translated her words, and the master named Kraznys answered in an angry tone. Daenerys struggled ever more to not let her mask drop, for not only did she understand every word, but his Astapori accent all but butchered the Valyrian tongue in her ears.

"There are 8,000 Unsullied in Astapor. Is this what you mean by all?"

Daenerys did not so much as blink. "Yes. Eight thousand, and the ones still in training as well. And before your masters fret about half-trained boys, let them know that many will fall in battle. I need the boys to pick up their swords."

The masters still debated her words. Kraznys in particular seemed very much annoyed, and the insult-infested comments he made about her only gave rise to the joy she felt at what she would soon do to him. He was no loss to this world, not in the least.

"Master Kraznys says you cannot afford this. Your Dothraki's horses will buy you 100 Unsullied… because Master Kraznys is generous. Your Dothraki warriors will buy you 200, but the women and children are not worth what they cost to feed. But, since you have brought many, Master Kraznys will give you 10 Unsullied for all of them. Master Kraznys asks how you propose to pay for the remaining 7,690?"

"I have dragons. I'll give you one," Daenerys replied, ignoring the shocked look on Ser Jorah's face.

"Khaleesi, please," he whispered.

She paid him no attention, but instead stepped forward to speak to the master directly. In his broken Common Tongue, he demanded all three dragons, and she spat back: "One."

"Two," Kraznys said back.

"One."

They discussed her words. Then Missandei spoke again.

"They want the biggest one."

"Done." Daenerys turned away to see Jorah gasp, and she remembered the first great moment of friendships had now come. "Oh, and I'll take you as well. Now. You'll be Master Kraznys's gift to me. Token of a bargain well struck."

It was accepted. She understood that he couldn't care less for Missandei, that most likely, he didn't even know her name. But she did, and she would care. As she left with the girl in tow, she felt it her duty to begin their friendship in much the same way it should have begun – with a request.

"You are with me now. It is your duty to tell me the truth."

"Yes, Your Grace. Lying is a great offense," the girl agreed hastily. "Many of those on the walk of punishment were taken there for less."

"I understand the Unsullied are trained to have no questions, to do as I bid, to be mine completely. But what about you? You understand I am taking you to war. You may get hungry, you may fall sick, you may be killed."

The girl nodded. "Valar Morghulis."

"Yes, all men must die," Daenerys replied, looking at her and smiling briefly. "But we are not men."

And as Missandei smiled back at her, she knew she had made her first, and perhaps most important, step towards true friends on the long journey ahead. The rest of them, she would have to wait for. And so she allowed all matters to pass as they would have had anyway just a little later. She brought her beautiful black dragon, her dearest child, to Master Kraznys in chains. She took the whip of the Unsullied from him. She called upon the soldiers in High Valyrian, and when Kraznys, struggling with her unwilling child, was surprised at her sudden language skills, she showed him the dark, calm smile that would unnerve many of her foes in the future.

"I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, of the blood of Old Valyria. Valyrian is my native tongue," she told him in Valyrian, before adding another word, one that she had to admit was addictive to say: "Dracarys."

And so the man burned, and the chains of slavery were struck from the wretched people of the city. Besides, it also got the Unsullied to follow her loyally by giving them what they had never been given before – a choice. More than one, in fact, for they also chose their new leaders, a decision which would grant her a second friend – Grey Worm. He stepped forward and took off his helmet, and she could see a mix of deference and determination in his eyes.

"This one has the honor," he said, and Daenerys remembered to make sure her former slaves got rid of this practise of referring to themselves as "this one".

"What is your name?" she asked.

"Grey Worm."

"A name to remind you what you are, no doubt. But you are not vermin," Daenerys insisted, much to Missandei's delight, who stood right next to her. "From this day forward, you will choose your own names. You will tell your fellow soldiers to do the same. Throw away your slave name. Choose the name your parents gave you, or any other. A name that gives you pride."

"Grey Worm gives me pride. It is a lucky name. The name this one was born with was cursed, that was the name he had when he was taken as a slave. But Grey Worm is the name this one had when Daenerys Stormborn set him free."

With a slight nod, she accepted his choice. "Grey Worm, then," she said and extended her hand to him.

Frowning, he looked first at her, then at Missandei, obviously at loss with this strange gesture.

"It is a common practise in Westeros to shake hands when first introduced to a person of equal status," the translator explained.

"But she is the queen," he protested.

"And you are a free man, just as I am a free woman. My birth alone does not raise me above you, above any of you. I offered you your freedom, but it was you who took it. You are free men! I can only be your queen if you choose me to be, and I do not need men I can look down upon, I need loyal followers and friends."

Grey Worm's face, despite the years of painful drills that supposedly drove all emotions from his heart, betrayed a little sentiment.

"This one would like nothing better than to be your friend, Daenerys Stormborn," he said in a heavy voice and accepted the hand she was still offering.

"A wish most readily granted. Now, will you help me change the world?"

And it seemed that this was the second best thing in the world to him. It was important to her as well, and soon to Missandei, too. They would change the path destiny had laid out for them, but this time, Daenerys would stay longer in Astapor to ensure her new world order would be upheld. No other master but Kraznys was burned. Instead, she had every man of wealth or notability rounded up, and she gave each of them the choice to repent his slaveholder ways and follow her into the future. Those who refused were stripped of their wealth, to be given to those who supported her. This way, Daenerys was sure, the new Astapor had a chance of lasting longer – because there were many who benefitted from the new order. These people would be willing to defend the new status quo as well as the khaleesi who had made them rich. It was during those months of turmoil in Astapor that she met another of her future friends. While walking the battlements overlooking the sea, where once the walk of punishment had been, an angry impoverished former master tried to attack her. His attempt was rash and badly timed, however, for the swing of a sword sliced his hand holding the dagger clean off. As he feel to the ground screaming and Daenerys's bloodriders leapt forward, the man who had interfered removed his hood.

She smiled seeing his warm, white features. "I owe you my life, Ser."

"The honour is mine, my queen."

Before Ser Jorah was even there to tell her who she was dealing with, Daenerys nodded.

"I have heard about you, have I not? You are Barristan the Bold, one of the greatest swordsmen in the Seven Kingdoms… and Lord Commander of Robert Baratheon's kingsguard."

"King Robert is dead," the elderly knight insisted. "I have been searching for you, Daenerys Stormborn, to ask you forgiveness. I was sworn to protect your family, and I failed them."

He sighed deeply and fell to a knee before her.

"I am Barristan Selmy, kingsguard to your father. Allow me to join your queensguard, and I will not fail you again."

The way he spoke touched her heart, and she was almost willing to give in yet. But there was one thing, one that she had to make sure he understood before he walked down that path with her. One thing that had to be mentioned.

"Rise, Ser Barristan. I have half a mind to accept your plea, but before I can, I must ask you one thing."

"Anything," he assured her.

"Viserys… he told me about Rhaegar. Said he was good at killing people. Said he was noble and strong and valiant," Daenerys explained. "But you knew him for true. What was Rhaegar like?"

At that, he smiled, and she already found herself in love with that kind, grandfatherly smile.

"Rhaegar never liked killing. He loved singing. Sometimes we would go down into the streets of King's Landing, to be with the people. He sang for them and I… I made sure no one killed him. And I collected the money."

"He sang for money? He was good?" she asked back, but did not await a reply. "A lovely tale… but I need you to understand I am not Rhaegar. Nor am I Viserys, or my mother, or my father. I am Daenerys Stormborn, and the path of my destiny is even more perilous than all of theirs taken together. If you pledge your sword to me, Ser Barristan, understand that your task shall be a tremendous one. I will need good counsel even more than I need protection. Can you stand by me through all the trials and tribulations to come, even if the path is dark and full of terrors?"

He frowned, but only briefly, before attempting to kneel again, but she stopped him.

"No, don't kneel. Just tell me true. Can you be by my side as a counsellor, no matter the dangers I face?"

"Aye. You are my queen, from this day until my last day."

With that, she had acquired another true follower, whom in time she would turn more into a friend. And certainly, she would not allow him to find a bleak end in some alleyway of a godsforsaken place just because she did not have the means to rule a city. This time, Barristan would live to see her return to Westeros, and when he died, it would be a hero of the queensguard and a friend. With Jorah, she knew true friendship was never possible, for his feelings got in its way, and her handmaidens and bloodriders would, despite their loyalty, always remain strangers to the way she wanted to live. But Missandei could be a friend, Grey Worm could be one, and so would Barristan in due time.

The next ones on her list were another matter entirely. The first came to her shortly before she wanted to set out for Yunkai. When reports reached her that a ship with turquoise sails was approaching Astapor, her heart had already begun to soar. At least one of her letters had found its destination! She sat on a golden chair to receive her visitors, with Jorah and Barristan by her side. Their knowledge and counsel would be much needed, she assumed, but then again, little could Daenerys have guessed what exactly her letter would had caused.

Yes, she had turned to House Velaryon, her family's oldest, staunchest allies, now all but rotting forgotten on an island in the Narrow Sea. Their ships, their strategic knowledge, and their loyalty would all come in handy in the wars to come, she fathomed. But as soon as she saw the man leading the small embassy sent to her on the far side of the world, she knew he meant trouble. His tall, slender figure moved with the ease of a man born and bred on board of ships, but the sword by his side betrayed the fact that he was as easy with a blade as he was with a sail. His long, silver hair told tales of Valyrian ancestors not yet forgotten, but it was the mischievous grin on his lips that alarmed her.

"Ser Barristan, do you know this man?" she asked quietly.

"Yes, my queen. This is Aurane Waters, baseborn half-brother to the Lord of the Tides, Monford Velaryon."

"To send a bastard is insulting," Ser Jorah hissed.

"Your Grace," the roguish man's words cut their secret discussion short. "Or is it khaleesi? Dragon's Mother? Forgive me, my queen, but I have heard many a tale on my voyage here, some of which are hard to believe even for an old seadog like me."

Daenerys raised an eyebrow. He was tempting her, but two could play that game. "You are neither old nor a dog, it would seem, and I am afraid most of what you have heard is true. But go ahead, my lord, ask your questions. I will not have it said that my guests are left in the dark."

"I may not be old, but I am no lord either, unless of course if you consider the sea my mistress," Aurane grinned. "Yet, I must admit there is one question that truly vexes me, and perhaps you'd be so kind as to answer it."

Gracefully, she bid him speak. He had every right to be curious about her dragons, or to ask about her plans for Slavers' Bay. Perhaps he also wondered how she, barely older than a girl, had acquired so many brave warriors in so short a time. Or maybe his brother had ordered him to ask about the ancient friendship between their houses, about the rewards she meant to bestow on him if he helped her cause. All of these questions were understandable and legitimate.

Which is why she shouldn't have been surprised that he asked none of those.

"Do you have any plans for tonight?"

Jorah half draw his sword, as did her bloodriders once Missandei had explained the Westerosi's words to them, and even Barristan seemed taken aback by this brashness. Daenerys was, too, but only for a moment. Then she chuckled, and without listening to anyone's objections, she replied.

"I am a queen, in case you had forgotten, Captain Waters. Plans are made for me every day. Tonight, I believe, we dine in the mansion a recently deceased master of this city so kindly left for me," she reprimanded him in a serious tone, only to add: "Yet, as a scion of that old and noble house which has always supported mine, I think it only proper for you to dine with us. Don't you think, Ser Barristan? Would it cause us trouble to have an envoy of House Velaryon sup with us?"

"Not if he knows his manners around a queen," Barristan wisely answered.

Daenerys smiled. "He surely does. He has not come to embarrass his lordly brother, after all, has he?"

"Not at all," Aurane assured her, returning the smile in a dashing way. "I have come to help and assist, come to stay, if you like it. I am all yours, my beautiful queen."

"I had expected no less," she returned.

As he walked away, her guardians' gazes followed him with distrust and envy. The men by her side did not like the almost-pirate, but strangely, she found that she did. The impression only grew stronger at dinner and in the days to come, when they set out to conquer Yunkai. Aurane had offered to stay in Astapor as her spokesman, but Jorah and Barristan had firmly advised against it, so she had instead decided to bring him along. If he was to follow her, best for him to see her for who she truly was – a conqueror, yes, but most of all a liberator. When they stood on the hills before Yunkai and Ser Jorah insisted there was no good reason to attack, she gave all of them a piece of her mind.

"How many slaves are there in Yunkai?" she asked.

"Two-hundred thousand, if not more," Ser Jorah stated matter-of-factly.

"Then we have two-hundred thousand reasons to take the city," Daenerys insisted before telling Grey Worm to inform the masters of Yunkai that she expected their surrender. She revelled in the approval she saw in his face before turning back to her other advisors. She knew how Jorah and Barristan felt about this whole campaign, but the Velaryon bastard remained an enigma to her. Him she could not know about. Him she had to test. "Captain Waters, walk with me."

As they turned around and walked back to her tent, he remained unusually quiet. Daenerys had already grown accustomed to him making sassy remarks at the most unfitting of times, but now he just looked ahead at the horizon.

"Do you disagree with my decision?" she wondered.

"I am merely uncomfortable to have travelled here by land. Had you listened to me, we would have been here much faster. Or anywhere else, for that matter."

She raised an eyebrow. "So you would rather I was somewhere else?"

"Somewhere aside from a large, soft bed with large, soft cushions, you mean?" He looked at her and winked before returning to a more serious tone. "Ser Jorah is right about one thing, I grant him that. Yunkai will get you no closer to the Iron Throne."

"But you pledged your house's support to me."

"Aye, I did, and I am fairly certain I will not live to regret it. Targaryen and Velaryon will return to where they ought to be, my brother will be pleased, you will be pleased, and if I am very lucky my help in the matter will reap me a handsome reward."

"You are speaking of gold, I presume. Or is there anything else you would ask for? As queen, I would certainly reward those who supported me handsomely."

He stopped and smiled at her, but it was a devious smile. "Well, there are one or two things that I would ask of you if I could," he began to insinuate, but she cut him short by stopping and putting a hand on his chest.

"Aurane," she insisted, calling him by his name for the first time ever, "I speak not of such trivial matters. Surely those matters that you love to imply are not everything you desire. There must be more than wine and women. What about honour, or glory, or the safety of a name? Would you not wish to speak for House Velaryon truly, as a full member of your house? As queen, I could make it so. Fight with me and I will make you Aurane Velaryon, you need only say the word. The stain of your birth – gone."

He looked into her eyes, Valyrian purple searching for Valyrian lilac, and for a few beats of his heart no word was spoken. Then, softly, his hand touched hers on his chest and he took it down.

"I am not sure my brother would be all too pleased about that, my queen."

"But what about you?"

Aurane sighed. "I am… Aurane Waters. It is who I have always been. Yes, it is true, I wish to make a name for myself, more than anything even, I guess. But to receive it like that, with nothing but the stroke of a pen… it seems rather empty."

"Would you prefer to wrestle it from me?" she asked half grinning.

"Only if you wore less," he quipped back.

"Oh, you," Daenerys sighed and turned away to walk again. "You have to stop doing this. I command you to."

He followed her one step behind, still smirking. "Doing what?"

"This… this what you are doing. With your words. You are behaving in a most improper way with your queen. Others will not like it. One day, you might find yourself waking up to a knife in your belly."

"As long as my queen likes what I am doing, I should die a happy man."

"Aurane," she chided him once more, but inwardly, she smiled at his persistence. There was some kind of easy charm about him that she liked, even if she had firmly decided never to give into his advances. But her words had been true – his flirting was charming, but people would soon take greater notice of it. And that, she knew, did not bode well, for she knew his interests would clash with those of another man soon to join her flock – Daario Naharis.

Ah, Daario. She had been looking forward to meeting him for quite some time, and just as she had with the others, she let it play out almost exactly as it was supposed to be. She met him and his fellow captains, endured their insolence and mean behaviour, and waited in her bathtub for him to arrive. She was not afraid when she saw his blade on Missandei's throat, for she knew he was on her side. But she would not allow him as much cockiness, Aurane having taught her a lesson.

"Let her go," she demanded, and he acceded.

"Don't scream, lovely girl," he told Missandei.

Daenerys motioned for her friend to come to her, and she held Missandei's hand for a moment before turning to the intruder again. "You were sent here to kill me. So why haven't you?"

"I don't want to."

"What do you captains have to say to that?"

"You should ask them," he replied and presented her with their severed heads.

Missandei gasped at the sight, but Daenerys just wanted to know why he had done it.

"We had philosophical differences. About… your beauty. It meant more to me than it did to them."

"You're a strange man."

"I am the simplest man you'll ever meet," he insisted. "I only do what I want to do."

Daenerys smirked. "But why would I trust a man who murders his comrades?"

"They ordered me to murder you. I told them I preferred not to. They told me I had no choice, and I told them 'I am Daario Naharis, I always have a choice'. They drew their swords, I drew mine."

She could see the way he was eyeballing her, and much the same as with Jorah and Aurane, it made her uncomfortable. With Jorah, his great loyalty made her bear the pangs of discomfort his utter devotion to her brought her. With Aurane, she had come to accept his flirts were more playful than true, for he still knew his station, and she was certain she could even form a friendship with him. But in Daario's eyes, she saw a dark fascination mixed with lust – one that she was not willing to indulge. In another life, she might have basked in his desire, but not in this one. She needed to save the world, after all, not fornicate with one of her followers.

So she did not rise from her tub as she demanded to know whether he would fight for her. He nodded, but she wasn't satisfied.

"Come closer. Swear to me."

Daario took the arakh from his waist and knelt next to the tub. "The Second Sons are yours and so is Daario Naharis. My sword is yours, my life is yours, and my heart is yours."

"I will have need of your sword, Daario Naharis. Let us pray I will never have to ask for your life, and as for your heart… I am married to my people."

"And I have not asked you for marriage," he replied winking.

"Thank you, Daario, for your loyalty. I will see you on the morrow, and if you help me take Yunkai, I will know you to be a true and loyal friend. But now I must urge you to leave. You are frightening my friend; she is not used to having daggers pointed at her throat."

"Of course, my queen. If you'll allow it, I will make it up to the lovely girl some day," Daario said as he passed by Missandei, softly touching one of her shoulders.

Daenerys said nothing as she watched him leave. Then she hastily asked Missandei to bring her clothes before anyone else could reach the conclusion that peeping on their bathing queen would be a tremendous idea. As Missandei folded the cloth around her shoulders, Daenerys leaned over to her.

"I will allow his offer if you want him to. Or I can have him whipped for the impetuosity," she whispered.

Missandei softly shook her head. "No, thank you. This one… I… I am merely happy to be alive."

"As am I," Daenerys affirmed. "Without you, I would not know how to handle all the dangerous men in my life."

At this, her friend chuckled. "Surely Your Grace would find a way. Some of them are not so bad, after all. Barristan has a good heart, and Grey Worm too would never dare to harm you."

Daenerys nodded, already noticing the warm way in which her friend pronounced the Unsullied leader's name.

"None of them would, I believe. Yet I sense some of them will get me in trouble, eventually. And they are not the only ones we will meet, my friend. This is a man's world, and we have so many more ahead of us. All I can hope for you is that you stay by my side, for with your support, I feel I can take on all of them. Well, not at once, preferably, but eventually they'll fall."

"Yes, all men must die," Missandei returned, her first true attempt at a quip since they day she had been turned into a slave.

Her quote from their very first conversation made Daenerys's heart leap. Had she truly achieved one of the many great things she had set out to accomplish? Had she made a real friend?

"And all women must live. Off meat and wine, if possible. Do you think we'll find something in the larder?"

Missandei nodded smiling. "For you, Your Grace, always the best."

She turned to go already, but Daenerys held her hand and forced her to stay a little longer.

"No," she insisted. "For us. Bring two cups. Tonight we'll celebrate, and tomorrow we'll take Yunkai. I wish to drink to victory – with you, my friend."

AN: See you on the weekend, when we'll be back in the frosty North, and you'll get to see more of the Daenerys-Shireen relationship that both of them would have deserved! Stay tuned!