Sister's Keeper
Edited by xXFallenSakuraXx52
Disclaimer: I do not own Game of Thrones
Chapter 40: The Dance of Dragons
Alysanne's POV
It has been a week since the incident at the Lower Fighting Pits. There have been no sightings of Ser Jorah, indicating the knight was out of the city. Tyrion has become a member of the Small Council, though doesn't have a position or title since I need to see how capable he was. Especially since he was once Hand of the King for Joffrey Baratheon. Grey Worm was still in recovery, as the wounds he received were deeper than expected and Ser Barristan and Daario were making arrangements for security for the Great Games.
They were talking about how many Unsullied should be on guard, where to put them, and who should be sitting in the royal box. So far, the obvious one is Daenerys, Hizdahr, Missandei, Tyrion, Ser Barristan and Daario. A few council members will be attending as well to show signs of peace. However, the next discussion came up, the Wedding. The Great Games last for three days, after that will be the wedding. One that is in public until entering the Temple of the Graces. It was a tradition for the patriarch of a family to give the bride away. Sadly, there are no living males in House Targaryen. Therefore, I asked Ser Barristan to be the one to give me away. The older knight was baffled, nevertheless felt honor. Making a remark, he better start polishing his armor.
It made me chuckle, though I still felt dread in this match. I know this marriage is supposed to unite the Meereenese and Freemen together. But it comes at a price along with breaking my promise to marry out of love. Especially when my heart once belongs to another only to be wounded. In the end, a ruler never gets love and happiness.
As the days passed, the fertility ritual happened. I did not enjoy the fertility ritual. As Hizdahr sisters examined me like a broodmare while three Graces sang the hymns. The worse was seeing the bedsheets that were collected during my flowering season. As six nights of bedsheets were stain with blood. This pleased the Ghiscari women confirming I was still fertile. Although, little did they know conception was difficult for me. A probable cause of inbreeding.
It saddens me for the dream of the young boy with fair hair and indigo eyes vanished. The dreams of Braavos being nothing but a distant memory. Although I do not see the boy's father, I have a feeling he made us happy.
Sighing, I sat by the vanity while Daenerys brushed my hair, manipulating it into braids and forming it to a bun before adding the jewels and golden chains. Afterward, I got dressed putting on my new gown. It was purple, almost the shade as my eyes. It was sleeveless, with a fitted bodice and a plunging neckline. The skirt flowed beneath the golden scalemail belt at the waistline. The scalemail added onto the shoulders giving the illusions of sleeves and draping down my back were a cape clung to it.
"You look like a queen," Daenerys complimented.
"I don't feel like one," I sighed.
I stared at Daenerys as she wore her white gown with a cape. Although she wore pants underneath and boots. Around her neck was a silver dragon necklace, and she wore the ring I got her. Her hair down with a few braids to keep out of her face. I smiled softly at her, seeing the potential ruler of Westeros.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door.
"Enter," I called out.
Ser Barristan entered, wearing his new armor that was suitable for the climate, "You ladies look lovely."
"And don't you look dashing," I said, which made the older knight blush.
"It is time," Barristan informed.
We sighed, though I stopped walking over to the bed collecting my sword and handed it to Ser Barristan. "Can you hold this for me?"
Ser Barristan nodded, knowing it's better to be prepared for the unknown than letting our guard down. With one more deep breath, we left the Great Pyramid for the Great Pit of Daznak. If only this were a jousting tournament and melee.
.o0o.
The Great Pit of Daznak is the biggest and most extravagate of the fighting pits in Meereen. The entrance is the Gate of Fate, where an archway is formed by two bronze warriors, one wielding an ax and the other a sword, attacking each other in mortal combat. Beneath the gates were the names of fallen fighters. Above the two warriors stood the Grace of Ghis, the Harpy standing tall as her wings were spread welcoming patrons to her worship. Once you enter the Great Pit, you find yourself in a three-tier filled to the brim for the audience. As the center was the pit covered in the sand where blood and tears soaked each grain, although it appeared gold as the sun.
All around were Targaryen Banners and Unsullied on guard. Everywhere you look you see people from different classes, from the liberated slaves up to the masters. Cheering and socializing, forgetting that there was slavery. Hizdahr once told me that before I arrived, the sitting arrangements were of rank, the Great Master sat in the bottom tier, the Meereenese sat in the middle tier, and the slaves and poor sat in the top tier. Now, it is first come, first serve.
In the Royal Box, four curcule seats were presented. I sat on the one on the right, as Daenerys sat next to me. The seat next to me was empty for Hizdahr, and the one before is where Tyrion sat. Ser Barristan and Daario stood behind us, while Missandei had a seat by the beam. Members of the Free Meereenese council sat behind us.
A slight show was being performed in preparation for the gladiators. Several men riding horses dance around one another, maneuvering banners to perform the fabrics in a swirling pool of colors. It was peaceful, one I think would be suitable for entertainment than a blood bath.
Hizdahr arrived wearing his golden robes. He took his seat next to me.
"Where have you been?" Daenerys asked.
"Just making sure everything is in order," Hizdahr answered. "Ensuring that all the fighters are free men."
"And are they?" I asked.
"Yes, Your Grace," he answered.
"Good," I murmured.
The horses' neighs as the gates open signifying the games are about to begin. As the performance left the pit, the Daznak Pit Master from the meeting a few weeks ago came out. The crowd cheered, as the Daznak Master took center praising from the top of his lungs for all could hear.
"Free Citizens of Meereen! By the blessing of the Graces, and her majesty the Queen, welcome to the Great Games!"
The crowd cheered, standing up clapping their hands. Two men came out. One was average size carrying a short sword, a gladius, and shield, while his opponent was a massive muscular man wielding a khanda, a double-edged sword with a curved tip.
"My Queen, our first contest. Who will triumph: the strong, or the quick?" the Daznak master announced.
The Quick stepped forward, "I die and fight for your glory, oh glorious Queen."
The Strong stepped forward, "I fight and die for your glory, oh glorious Queen."
The Daznak Master left the pit as the two men stood there waiting. All eyes were on me. Everyone was waiting. I looked at Hizdahr wondering what I need to do.
"They're waiting for you," Hizdahr whispered. "Clap your hands."
I nodded lifting my hands and looked at the two gladiators. Doing a silent prayer, begging the Mother's mercy as I sent these men to their deaths, and clapped. The clap echoed throughout, creating a chain reaction as the crowd stood and cheered for the match. The two men fought, as the strong swung about while the quick dodged each blow. He rolled and jump, using his shield when the Strong blade came to close.
"That one, the smaller man," Daario said, leaning in between Daenerys and I. "No question about it, that's where you should put your money."
"The smaller man it is," Hizdahr said.
"I'm not putting my money anywhere," I said.
"Kings and queens never bet on the games," Hizdahr assured, glancing at Daario. "Perhaps you should go find someone who does."
Daario moved over until he was between Hizdahr and me, "People used to bet against me when I fought in the pits. He would have bet against me. Common novice mistake."
"I've spent much of my life in this arena. And in my experience, large men do triumph over smaller men far more often than not." Hizdahr said.
"Has your experience ever involved any actual fighting?" I asked. "You yourself? Have you ever tried to kill another man who was trying to kill you?"
Ser Barristan snorted knowing there is a difference between fighting and watching. Hizdahr knew I had a point, as the thought lingers in his head.
"Have you, Your Grace?" he asked.
"The Undying Ones," I answered, then watch the duel. "But you should never judge a warrior based off height. It is skills and experience that counts."
"Whenever I got into the pit against a beast like that one, the crowd saw me, all skin and bone back then, then they saw a pile of angry muscles ready to murder me," Daario said, pulling out his stiletto. Starling Hizdahr, "They couldn't get their money out fast enough. But the pile of angry muscles never had any muscles here," as he aimed the blade to his own jaw, then twirled it, so it was against Hizdahr jugular. "Or…here."
I rolled my eyes, grabbing Daario's hand forcing it away from my intended. I need Hizdahr alive, and not traumatized.
"And the big men were always to slow to stop my dagger from going where their muscles weren't." Daario continued. "Yes, whenever I saw a beast like that one standing across from me making his beast faces, I knew I could rest easy."
Unfortunately, the Quick stood up after rolling away, unable to avoid decapitation by the Strong. The head threw off, as the body stood there for a moment until dropping on the ground. I took a deep breath, biting back my tongue. The crowd cheered for the Strong. Daario's lofty smug look drop while Hizdahr grinned. If there were a bet, a few gold honors would have been passed.
"You don't approve?" Hizdahr asked Tyrion, who has been quiet since arriving at the pit.
"There's always been more than enough death in the world for my taste," Tyrion answered. "I can do without it in my leisure time."
True, the last entertainment by mortal combat for Lord Tyrion was his Trial by Combat. He told me what happen, how Prince Oberyn almost defeated the Mountain. But the Red Viper grew cocky, demanding the Mountain to confess in who gave the order of murdering Elia Martell. Everyone knew it was Tywin Lannister; however, Prince Oberyn wanted the Mountain to confess. In the end, the Red Viper had his head crushed and the Mountain slowly dying by the poison received from the inflicted cuts. Apparently, Prince Oberyn laced his spear with poison. It is not sure if Ser Gregor Clegane is still alive or not.
"Fair enough. Yet it's an unpleasant question, but what great thing has ever been accomplished without killing or cruelty?" Hizdahr asked.
"It's easy to confuse what is with what ought to be, especially when what it has worked out in your favor," Tyrion replied.
"I'm not talking about myself. I'm talking about the necessary conditions for greatness," Hizdahr said.
"That is greatness?" Daenerys asked appalled.
As the crew came in to remove the body, pouring fresh sand over the pool of blood. Along with lifting the decapitated head proudly, which the audience cheered.
"That is a vital part of the Great city of Meereen, which existed long before you or I and will remain standing long after we have returned to the dirt," Hizdahr explained.
"My father would have liked you," Tyrion muttered.
The next game began as six men, and the Daznak master came out. Hizdahr explained it was a tradition to see who the best fighters were based on their origins around the world. Over a quick glance, I can see the newest Meereenese champion, a Dothraki screamer, a Norvoshi, a Water Dancer, A Summer Islander, and a Sellsword based on his dark armor.
"We ask again! Who will triumph!" The Daznak Master asked.
"One day your great city will return to the dirt as well," Daenerys promised to Hizdahr.
I gave her a warning look.
"At your command?" Hizdahr asked.
"If need be," Daenerys answered.
"Enough you too," I warned.
The crowd cheered as the Meereense Champion step forward giving his declaration.
"And how many people will die to make this happen?" Hizdahr asked.
"If it comes to that, they will have died for a good reason," Daenerys answered.
"Those men think they're dying for a good reason," Hizdahr gestured.
"Someone else's reason," Daenerys clarified.
"So your reasons are true, and theirs are false? They don't know their own minds, but you do?" Hizdahr challenged.
"Well said. You're an eloquent man." Tyrion said, interrupting the debate. "Doesn't mean you're wrong. In my experience, eloquent men are right every bit as often as imbeciles."
This made the two quiet.
"Well said," I murmured, finishing the conversation.
"Or a Westerosi knight!"
Wait? What? I thought, did I hear correctly.
"I fight and die for your glory, oh glorious queen," the Westerosi knight declared.
I stared at the pit seeing Ser Jorah standing there along with the other gladiators. I felt all the warmth leaving my body, feeling it tighten, seeing him standing there with much determination. No, no, no, he can't do this. I banished him! How is he back in Meereen? Our eyes locked, unable to break the connection as we could see the pain both of us felt. I tried to think of a way to get him out, however, once a free man signs up for the fighting pits and enters the ring, he cannot forfeit.
Hizdahr took my hand, "Your Grace –"
"Shut your mouth," Daario silence him.
Having to keep my word and promise, I raised my hands together. As if a demon grabbed my wrist and forced me to clap. The crowd cheered, while Jorah gave a nod accepting the challenge. Was this his revenge to torment me for exiling him? Knowing he was the one who betrayed Daenerys and me.
"Alysanne," Daenerys whispered as she took my hand.
I squeezed it tightly, unaware that my grip was hurting her. It was like my body fell into a cationic state, watching the battle between Ser Jorah and five gladiators around the world. The Champion of Meereen took on against the Norvoshi, the Dothraki fought against the Water Dancer, while Jorah battle against the Summer Islander who held a halberd. My eyes focused on Jorah, the Daznak pit falling silent in my ears as the only thing I heard was my heart racing.
The Islander charged at Jorah, swinging the halberd. Jorah ducked, spinning around as his sword struck the handle of the halberd. Jorah threw another strike, which was blocked. The Islander maneuvering the handle, sliding the sword away, leaving the knight open, where the man struck him on the blunt hand of the handle in the stomach, before getting his opponent in the face. The impact stunned Jorah spitting up blood as he fell to the ground.
Get up, I silently begged.
The Islander swung the ax down, yet Jorah managed to block with his sword then kicked the man in the leg. This knocked the Islander down. Jorah quickly stood thrusting his sword down to impale the Islander in the leg, only to miss. As the islander spun around, and swatted sword and tripped Jorah. It happened so fast, for a moment, thinking Jorah was done for until a dagger appeared out of nowhere slashing the Islander's arm causing the warrior to lose his grip of his weapon. The Islander threw punches, grabbing Jorah around the neck while the other his wrist that held the dagger. The two struggled, both trying to get the blade. Jorah managed to move his leg around and kick the Islander in the shin, knocking him down. Not sparing a moment, took the dagger and impaled it into the Islander's chest killing him.
Jorah looked up panting, determination written on his face. I gulped, before taking a deep breath. Looking away, to notice the Dothraki screamer was already dead and the Champion of Meereen was still fighting the Norvoshi. Knowing I have to watch, I look up seeing Jorah's next opponent was the Water Dancer. The Braavosi was considerate and allowed Jorah to pick up the sword. Getting a better look, Jorah wore armor; however, he wasn't wearing chainmail or a gambeson underneath leaving his arms and legs exposed. This was not good, for Water Dancing goes for areas where veins and arteries resign. Meanwhile, the Braavosi wore no armor, other than a leather vest. So, Jorah may have the advantage; however, this is speed against endurance.
The Water Dancer did a few tricks before Jorah came in for the strike, the rapier blocking the broadsword. Suddenly, Jorah stumbled back holding his cheek as it bled. I gasped for it happened so fast. As this was happening, the Champion of Meereen finished the Norvoshi fighter. He wandered around, waiting for his next opponent. Jorah strikes again at the Braavosi, getting the rapier that forced the man down, except being quick, slashed at Jorah's leg, luckily the thin blade didn't get through the boot. The Braavosi rolled backward, just as Jorah made another attack, only to jump up and used the pommel to punch the knight underneath the breastplate. Jorah stepped back rubbing his side.
The crowd was cheering in their excitement. Wanting to see their champion to go against a westerner. The question being will it be the Braavosi or the Westerosi. Their blades clashed, over and over, blocking each other's attack. It wasn't until the Water Dancer slashed Jorah's arm and kicked him in the knee. The knight fell to the ground losing his sword. Jorah rolled to his back, as the rapier was aimed to his chest. Both men looked at me.
I didn't know what to do. I couldn't stop the game. Once it starts it ends with the last gladiator standing. My heart was accelerating as if it was going to thrust out of my chest. My breathing shallow, almost non-existing, silently screaming to the gods to spare Jorah.
"You can end this," Tyrion desperately advised.
"She cannot," Hizdahr corrected.
"You can," Tyrion insisted.
Please, get up! I silently begged.
The crowd cheered antagonizing the Water Dancer to finish Jorah off. The knight looked up to accept his death, until out of nowhere a spear was plunged through the Braavosi from behind. The Champion of Meereen made the decision, yanking his spear back and walked away to allow Jorah to stand up and collect his sword.
"I've been by your side longer than any of them, Alysanne. Let me stand for you today as well." A memory Jorah said when we arrived in Meereen during the challenge.
"You are my most trusted advisor, my most valued general, trusted confidant, and my dearest friend. I will not gamble with your life." Was my response on that day.
Both gladiators gave the nod out of respect before they started to duel. The Champion of Meereen strikes first, by spinning his spear. Jorah jumped back, dodging it. The spear came forward over and over again, which Jorah block. The Champion made an overhead attack, which Jorah ducked and lunged forward. It wasn't long as Jorah grabbed hold of the spear keeping them pinned while attempting a cut his opponent's arm where it was vulnerable. The champion did a headbutt knocking Jorah down, before lunging forward to stab him. Jorah grabbed the handle near the spear tip, mustering all of his strength to prevent the steel from penetrating him.
I prayed to the Warrior to give Jorah strength.
The knight kicked the champion in the leg causing him to stumble back. Immediately up, Jorah glared at the champion, walking around like a bear ready to strike. Just as the Champion charged forward, Jorah dropped to the ground doing a summersault and stabbed the Meereenese in the chest killing him.
The crowd booed, crying out their protest since they were hoping for the Champion of Meereen to win the Battle of Warriors. Not a Westerosi knight. I sighed, taking a deep breath letting go of Daenerys's hand. Once I caught my bearings, I stared at him standing there staring at me. Suddenly his eyes narrowed, as he grabbed the spear and threw it at the Royal Box. Ser Barristan covered me while Daario pushed Daenerys down. The spear flew between Hizdahr and I, impaling someone.
Turning around, there was a Son of a Harpy. A golden mask and bronze dagger in hand. My eyes widen, looking up to see more Sons of the Harpy's emerging from the crowd. They were chanting in Old Ghiscari. I glanced over to Jorah who was still in the pit seeing the fear in his eyes, as all around the Daznak pit where more Harpies in the many levels of the bleachers. Chaos ensued as people started to run for their lives as the Harpies began to attack innocent people.
How was this possible? The Unsullied and guards checked every back to make sure there was no Harpy mask or weapon in the stands. Unless…someone in the Pit has arranged for this attack.
"Protect the girls!" Ser Barristan ordered.
The Unsullied who were in the Royal Box created a perimeter protecting Daenerys and I. The Unsullied in the stands tried to rush in to stop the slaughter, however, with everyone running, it made things difficult to reach each Harpy. Ser Barristan and Daario drew their weapons, attacking those who dare approach us. In the stands, the Harpies tried to kill the Unsullied; however, they were met with spears or short swords. Only a few of my soldiers falling to the ground, yet more innocent people were being killed.
"Your Grace! Your Grace!" Hizdahr yelled coming over. "Come with me. I know a way out. I know a way—"
A Harpy came up behind Hizdahr and stabbed him in the chest. I gasped, in horror since Hizdahr was a leader of an ancient family. The next king of Meereen. The word traitor in Valyrian could be heard, as more Harpies rushed in stabbing Hizdahr repeatedly. Daario rushed in but was too late, as he blocked another attack. Ser Barristan moved over to kill the assassins getting one when out of nowhere came Jorah taking care of the other two. All three men were bewildered by all this, until looking at me.
"We need to get out," I manage to say.
Jorah nodded, as he came over offering me a hand. I stared at it and into his eyes. He came back for me, twice, knowing the consequences. And still, he came to protect me. Knowing he will always be there; I took his hand. Jorah nodded, leading the way down as he jumped off the royal box, and helped me down. He kept watch as Daario took Daenerys's hand, gently helping her down while I grabbed her waist. Soon Ser Barristan and Daario jumped down, as did the Unsullied.
Once we were in the pit, Jorah grabbed my arm leading to the gate, "This way!"
We ran inside the barracks where there was an entrance. The moment we reached the door, it was slammed shut. Jorah rushed over trying to break the latch when a Harpy appeared out of nowhere. Daario pulled me back, about to block, except Jorah grabbed the Harpy and thrust his sword into the enemy stomach.
"The other side!" Daario yelled. "Follow me."
Daario leads the way out, as I took Daenerys's hand as we ran with Jorah and Ser Barristan on our side. The Unsullied moved around us. Tyrion and Missandei soon joined us.
"Protect your Queen and Princess!" Ser Barristan ordered.
We continue to run until all the gates open as a swarm of Harpies drowned the pit surrounding us. All around were Sons of the Harpy. The Unsullied who were in the stands rushed down surrounding them. However, there was more of them, even with my skilled soldiers, it can take only one to slide through the barricade to kill us. Ser Barristan unsheathed my sword and handed it to me.
"No matter what, protect Dany," I ordered.
One by one or those brave enough started to attack. The Unsullied in the barricade, stabbed and block with their weapons meanwhile Some managed to break through only to be met by a Westerosi knight or a Sellsword. One in a yellow barged through, going after Tyrion who held a dagger. I shoved him aside and block the attack, before slicing his arm and stab him in the chest. Another came through, yet I stab him in the stomach. The Unsullied in the outer ring tried to get closer, yet the numbers were overwhelming. This is definitely a third party doing.
Another Harpy dived at me; I blocked the attack only to fall to the ground tripping over my dress. The moment the Harpy could raise his dagger in his opposite hand, he was stabbed in the back by Jorah. Shoving the man off, he helped me up and pushed me back by another surprise attack. I glanced at Daenerys who stood there realizing there was too many of them. She took Missandei's hand and closed her eyes.
Suddenly dragon roar caught everyone's attention. Looking up and spear of fire came down, and then emerged Drogon. Not long after, Viserion appeared as the two flew in a circle. Half of the Harpies ran away, while the other half were mystified in sight of the dragons. Drogon landed in the pit, while Viserion dropped on the Royal Box. One Harpy ran away from Drogon, headed in our direction. Daario was about to attack the man, except Drogon bite him tossing the assassin across the pit, chomping him in half. Not long after, he blew fire at a group. Viserion crawled down doing the same for a group who were behind us.
They came. They sensed their Riders were in danger and came. A few brave Harpies grabbed spears and started throwing it at Drogon and Viserion. The golden dragon being smaller dodged some of the attack pouncing on the group and biting them while swinging his tail. Two spears got Drogon though, one in the shoulder and the other in his back.
"Drogon!" Daenerys cried. She ran over grabbing the spear that was in the black dragon's shoulder to try to get it out. Mustering all her strength, she yanked the spear out. Drogon turned his head and roar in her face. Daenerys remembering from the training, stood there showing dominance. Drogon finished his roar and saw she wasn't a threat. They stared at each other for a moment when another spear struck the dragon.
A harpy was about to throw a spear when Daario threw his stiletto and struck the man.
Analyzing the situation and staring at Drogon seeing he was big enough to ride for Daenerys, I rush over to her. "Go now!"
"What?" She gasped.
"Drogon is big enough to ride. Get on his back and leave!" I ordered.
"No, I'm not leaving you!" she argued.
"Damn it, Dany! Go, you are our only hope for our House!" I yelled.
Daenerys paused staring at me then pulled back with a nodded. Quickly she climbed onto Drogon's back finding her bearings. She whispered the word, Valahd linking her to Drogon. On command, Drogon started running through the pit preparing for taking off. I ran out of the way and looked up seeing Drogon taking off and fly. Everyone stopped in awe or was fleeing from Viserion who continued to his attack.
I watched seeing the return of the Dragonlords or in this case the Dragonladies. As Daenerys managed to escape from the attack. At least I know my sweet sister was safe. I turned around only to be met by a pain sliding down my spine and another in my shoulder. I cried out in agony, seeing two Harpy masks around me. They yank their blades out, about to stab me again only to be killed by Jorah and Ser Barristan. I fell to the ground, feeling blood pouring rapidly from my wounds. I glanced up seeing what remains of the Sons of the Harpy's charging forward until Viserion sprung in breathing fire.
Soon everything turned black.
.o0o.
Jorah's POV
Jorah had watched Daenerys taking to the sky when all of a sudden, he heard a scream. He turned around seeing that two harpies had snuck up behind Alysanne and stabbed her. Immediately he saw red, rushing in along with Ser Barristan. More foolish Harpies who took the moment of opportunity in the distraction attack only to be met with dragon fire by Viserion. It happened so fast, as men were being burned alive trying to extinguish the flames.
When he turned to Alysanne, he found Viserion hunching over her. Licking her wounds trying to get her to stand up. However, seeing the blood pooling around her and her lack of response made him fear the worse. He rushed over, except Viserion roared at him. Jorah stepped back evaluating the situation. Alysanne needed to get to a healer or physician fast, or she will bleed to death.
Then he recalled a trick he learned when Viserion was in his toddler stage. When Alysanne tried to get the dragon to trust him in. It earned him a few bites, but it allowed Viserion to recognized his scent, understanding he was a friend. Slowly, Jorah dropped his sword in front of Viserion showing the beast he was not a threat. Next reached his right arm out and one step at a time as came closer. Viserion growled so Jorah stopped.
"She needs help," Jorah whispered. "Let me help her."
Viserion growled moving closer till coming up to his hand. The dragon's nostrils flared, sniffing his scent. Jorah remained still, remaining calm to show he was not a threat. When Viserion gave a bob of the head, he stepped back presenting Alysanne. Jorah cautiously came over to the queen and check her vitals. A hand on her face, he found her still breathing. Sighing in relief, until seeing the pool of blood getting bigger. Cursing, he picked up Alysanne in his arms and looked at the others.
"We need to get her to a healer quickly!" Jorah ordered.
Daario and Ser Barristan nodded, as they all rushed to get Alysanne out of the pit and somewhere safe. Viserion took to the sky watching from the above. Jorah looked down at Alysanne seeing her fighting for her life.
"Hold on, Alysanne," Jorah pleaded. "Don't you dare die on me."
So, what do you all think? Will Alysanne survive?
Thanks for reading and please leave a review!