After Drogon had flown away with Daenerys, Rhaegal and Viserion had heard their brother's calls and flown to aid Rhaena, screeching their fury when they smelt her shed blood from the wounds she had received in her fight for her life. They did not even require a command. They devoured and scorched their enemies until only a handful of them remained. Rhaena ordered them to be seized and interrogated for information, an order Daario was more than happy to follow. Growling softly, both dragons lowered their heads in order to inspect and nuzzle at Rhaena as she soothed them, Viserion even attempting to lick at the blood which flowed down her arm as delicately as he could manage. She was glad that they had come, stroking their faces both in turn before resting a moment against Rhaegal's broad and hot scaled chest. Tyrion watched them in awe, never before having been so close to a live dragon. It still did not feel real to him. Even when Rhaena beckoned him approach and assured him that the dragons would not hurt him, he did not quite believe his own eyes. It was not until Rhaena brought his hand to press against the bronze and green dragon's snout did he finally believe what his eyes were telling his mind. Dragons were alive. They were real. And they were terrifying. Still, Rhaena was there with him, so he doubted they would think him a tempting morsel.
It was Rhaena who took command in her sister's absence, calling for the dead to be brought and laid out with care whilst the fallen Sons of the Harpy were to be piled up and left for the vultures. Rhaegal and Viserion picked at a few for their meat, and Rhaena let them have their fill. She commanded the Unsullied to sweep the streets and capture any fleeing Sons of the Harpy, to make safe the city and re-establish order in place of the chaos that had ensued. All the while Rhaena wanted nothing more than to fly after Daenerys, to call for Drogon and have him bring her back, but neither Rhaegal nor Viserion would fly with her. They trusted that Drogon would keep their mother safe. Their concerns remained with Rhaena and wanted to keep her where they could protect her in the place that they knew. They also knew that Drogon would not want them to follow. He was more solitary and fiercer too. If they followed him, he would most likely attack them, and they were now too tired to fly and fight with their larger sibling. Hurt too. Viserion had taken a spear to the wing joint and it now pained him so Rhaena soothed him and attempted to think of a means to help the injury heal. Until his brother could fly, Rhaegal would not leave him. It took a great deal of effort just to return Viserion to the catacombs where they had made their nest, and so Rhaena did not force them to take her after Daenerys and Drogon.
Instead the gathered the survivors and the wounded in order to retreat back to the great pyramid, and there the news had already spread ahead of them. Sansa, Myrcella, Trystane and Syrio Forel awaited them. Upon seeing her approach, Lady trotted forwards and licked at Rhaena's bloodied hands with delicate whimpers before pressing herself against Rhaena as if to offer herself as something to lean against. Rhaena touched her fur lightly, not wishing to bloody the beautiful creamy fur. "Oh Rhae…you're hurt." Sansa whispered in shock to see her dearest friend covered in blood. Rhaena assured her that the injuries were light, but Syrio merely had to glance at several of her wounds to determine that they needed to be cleaned and dressed immediately. At first Rhaena protested, insisting that she needed to speak with Daario and Grey Worm to determine how they were going to find Daenerys and also secure the city, but everyone pressed Rhaena to take care of herself first. Everyone was injured in some way, and Rhaena had not come off lightly. No injury was life threatening, but the gashes were long in places and deep in others. Now that death did not loom upon her, Rhaena was beginning to feel an ache creep into her bones and a stiffness settle upon her body from pain and tiredness. It took little persuasion to have her swept away by Sansa and Myrcella, who felt a tenderness come over her to see Rhaena so bloodstained and injured.
Both girls personally washed Rhaena and helped to clean her wounds, dabbing ointments against the open cuts to stave off infection before binding them in silk bandages whilst Syrio guarded the door. Now feeling rather tender, Rhaena could only bear to wear a light gossamer dress which crossed over her chest and met at the small of her back where the skirt fell from her hips. Anything else only seemed to irritate her skin, so Rhaena settled herself into the light and rather revealing raiment before taking a drink of watered wine to quench her thirst and answer Sansa and Myrcella's questions. All were glad that they had chosen to remain behind. Rhaena did not know what she should do were either of them to be harmed, or worse, killed. "Do not fear. We shall make safe the city and no one can reach you here. The Sons of the Harpy will not dare attack again, not until they have regained their numbers. Many were slain today. They will scurry back to where they hide and await until they are ready to strike again. Only next time, we shall be ready for them." Assuring both Sansa and Myrcella that they were safe, Rhaena offered them both a smile. "I promised you safety, and I shall not break my vow."
"I know, Rhae. I trust you." Sansa declared rather firmly, betraying no sense of fear for she had none. Her faith in her friend was enough that she had no doubt that Rhaena would keep her safe as she had done ever since they had made the journey to King's Landing together. Even if the world were to burn around them and men were to fall upon blade and arrow, and the earth were to rupture and the rivers run dry, Sansa would still have utter faith in Rhaena Targaryen. It seemed to Sansa that Rhaena was the type of person who would wade through fire without harm, carry the shield to protect them from sword and arrow, hold together the earth and break open rock to bring forth water from hidden springs. Such was her strength and courage it appeared there was nothing that she could not do, and no one strong enough to withstand her should she unleash all her might and fury. Myrcella had a similar sense. Although not as adamant as Sansa's, she knew Rhaena to be in truth a kind and gentle person. At least towards her. She knew that she had never meant any harm and that Rhaena, once her word was given, would give her dying breath to uphold it. Such was her character.
"They will be gathering to decide what must be done. I shall return soon my sweetings. Rest easy." Kissing both upon the brow and petting Lady upon her soft head, Rhaena went away to the throne room in order to find Tyrion, Daario and Ser Jorah sitting with forlorn and rather hopeless expressions upon their faces. "Now this simply will not do." Rhaena announced as she strode inside whilst ignoring the pains and aches of her body in order to sweep across the hall and climb the steps, rising until she stood on the same platform as Tyrion just below her sister's ruling seat. "Nothing shall ever be done if you three sit here and mope. My sister was almost butchered in her own city and now has been carted off by one of her own dragons to gods know where. Stop slouching Daario, Ser Jorah. You both have spines as far as I can tell. Use them." Her sharp tone cut through their despondency and immediately sat up straight as they had been commanded, for Rhaena's tone was one that called upon their instinct to obey those who took the position of commander and leader. Telling her quietly that they were waiting for Missandei to fetch Grey Worm, Rhaena nodded to Daario and took to pacing slowly back and forth, tapping her fingers impatiently against the leg which was not bound in silk and causing her pangs of hurt. Kaydyn will no doubt make a fuss if he were to see these injuries, though Rhaena could hardly keep them secret from him. Her lover will no doubt hear of the slaughter and come to find her. He was now known by the servants and the soldiers to be allowed to pass in order to visit Rhaena. Although he was known to others as her friend, only a precious few knew him to be her lover.
The quiet of the room began to irritate Rhaena who continued her restless pacing. It was too empty, too pressing. She did not like it at all. It was almost a relief when Tyrion finally spoke, though his choice of subject was not a delicate one. This came as no surprise, Tyrion was never one to hold back from the truth when it needed to be heard. "You love her, don't you?" This he directed at Ser Jorah, who merely looked up for a few moments to Tyrion before lowering his head once more. "How could you not. Of course, it's hopeless for the both of you. Sellsword from the fighting pits, a disgraced knight. Neither one of you is fit consort for a queen," at this Tyrion's voice grew heavy, and even Rhaena ceased in her pacing in order to listen. "But, we always want the wrong woman." Shae. He must have been thinking of Shae.
"Does he always talk so much?" Still unable to speak, all Ser Jorah could manage was a single nod of his head. Thankfully any further dismal and useless conversation ended when Missandei arrived with Grey Worm who had risen from his sickbed, his bare torso wrapped heavily in silk bandages from where his injuries had almost taken his life. Seeing Ser Jorah, Grey Worm greeted him coldly and Ser Jorah returned the greeting by speaking his name in High Valyrian. Grey Worm settled his dark eyes upon Ser Jorah with a hard coldness of distrust.
"You should not be here."
"No, but he is." Stepping forwards lightly as Grey Worm reminded all that Daenerys had exiled Ser Jorah from the city, Daario countered that if it were not for the disgraced knight then the queen would likely be dead.
"It's true," speaking softly in Valyrian, Missandei looked directly to Grey Worm as she continued. "And I would be dead if not for the…little man." Although appreciating her effort to be courteous, Tyrion took up the foreign tongue in order to tell her that there was no need to be delicate about what he was.
"Dwarf. I believe that's the word. Apologies. My Valyrian is a bit…" When Tyrion misspoke the word he intended, Rhaena allowed herself a small chuckle as she decided to sit herself down upon the stone steps, resting herself for a moment whilst Missandei gently corrected Tyrion's mistake. He had first taught Rhaena the tongue which had been spoken by her ancestors, but she had continued her studies well beyond his own teachings which was why she spoke it so well. In any case, Tyrion had never had a use for it before now, so his knowledge of the language had dulled over the years without being properly utilised.
"I am sorry. Sorry I am not there to fight for my queen."
"You need not apologise, Torgo Nudho. It is not your fault that you are still recovering from the cowardice of lesser men." Speaking with understanding to Grey Worm, Rhaena nodded her head to him to which he replied by bowing his upper body as much as he was able without putting strain upon his stitched wounds.
"You missed a good scrap." Daario added rather pointlessly, making Rhaena shoot him a withering look as Ser Jorah tired of their idle words.
"None of that matters now," rising to his feet, Ser Jorah continued to felt the pain of uncertainty and fear for the safety of his queen. Rhaena could see it throughout his entire body. He looked like a man ready to burn for the intensity of his feelings. "The longer we sit here bantering the longer Daenerys is out there in the wilderness." Twitching when Ser Jorah used her sister's name so liberally, Rhaena forced herself to stay her tongue. Now was not the time to argue over semantics. It was Daenerys who mattered most as of right now.
"He's right. The dragon headed north. If we're going to find her, that's where we're to go." Speaking as if it were obvious that he would go, many eyes turned upon Tyrion with looks of bewilderment and incredulousness. Ser Jorah spoke first.
"We? You're a Lannister. The Queen intends to remove your family from power."
"And I intend to help her do it."
"You've been here for how many days now? I've fought for her for years. Since she was little more than a child." Ser Jorah had no intention of bringing along a Lannister, let alone the Imp, in the search for Daenerys. Not when the chance of his return to her service hung in the balance. Unwittingly, his attention shifted from Tyrion to Rhaena. He hoped to see some of Daenerys in her, to be reminded of his queen, the woman he loved and had loved for a long time. Other than her hair, in truth there was very little similarity between the sisters. Not even their eyes were the same. Daenerys' possessed darker eyes like gems, whereas Rhaena's were brighter and more vivid. Her features were more delicate and refined, whereas Daenerys possessed prominent features which drew the attention then held it, from the strong definition of her jaw to the plump rosiness of her lips. Ser Jorah blinked upon realising that Rhaena was looking back at him with those cold and calculating eyes, he turned away in disappointment. She was not his Daenerys as Tyrion reminded everyone present that Ser Jorah had been the one to betray their queen. Anger roared in his chest. "Careful now."
"And she exiled you, twice, I believe?"
"The second time thanks to you."
"Don't blame me for your crimes, Mormont." Rhaena cut between them with a sharp lash with her tongue, tiring of their bickering.
"Enough. Both of you." Her eyes flashed warningly as she glowered at them both. "Anymore and I shall knock your heads together." Both men clamped their mouths shut, suspecting that Rhaena would make good on her threat if they pushed her temper too far. Taking this opportunity to speak, Daario also rose from his seat in order to raise his opinion.
"He's right. The Queen exiled Jorah," he gestured to Ser Jorah, "and he's right, Jorah saved her life. Perhaps she feels differently about him now. Perhaps not. The only way we'll know is if we ask her." It was perhaps this very hope that kept Ser Jorah going at this stage. Looking at him, Rhaena saw nothing but a bedraggled and tired man who was beginning to show his age. She wondered at what love could do to a person, wondering if it was such a good thing if it drove men to such desperation as this.
"Fine, fine, I suppose he can join us. Just as long as he promises not to kill me in my sleep." In response to this, Ser Jorah promised that if ever he was going to kill Tyrion, he would do so whilst he was awake. Sighing deeply, Rhaena rubbed at her face, not even rising to threaten Ser Jorah to silence for threatening Tyrion. She was too tired.
"Forgive me, but why would we bring you?" Now it was Tyrion's turn to be confused, frowning to Daario.
"Pardon me?"
"Have you ever tracked animals in the wilderness?" Not as such, but Tyrion was not to be so easily dissuaded, telling them that he had not tracked before but professing that he possessed other skills that could be made use of. "Can you fight?" Still arguing the issue, Tyrion began to grow impatient.
"I have fought. I don't claim to be a great warrior."
"Are you good on a horse?" Rhaena listened as Tyrion admitted that he was capable of riding but again, no great horseman, looking from face to face to measure their responses and try to understand their intentions. Most were effortless. Ser Jorah only wanted to find Daenerys, rescue her like a knight in shining armour and return her safely back to Meereen to beg her forgiveness and plead for her to allow him to return to her side. Daario was also easy to understand. He loved Daenerys just as much as Ser Jorah, being the queen's lover. He would ride to the ends of the world in order to find her, the type of devotion that would become song and poem one day. Tyrion however…Rhaena was not so certain why he seemed insistent to go with them to find Daenerys. Perhaps it was to prove his usefulness to her, a test of his loyalty. Rhaena saw no need for it, personally. Her sister had already taken Tyrion into her service. Returning to the conversation, Rhaena listened as Tyrion explained that he talked and drank, two skills which had helped him survive thus far. "Which I respect," Daario began, not unkindly, but still firmly. "But you would not help us on this expedition. You would help us here in Meereen, though." Looking to everyone else in the room other than Rhaena, Daario demonstrated a rather surprising degree of insight and forethought. "None of us have any experience governing a city, except for him." He turned back to Tyrion. "You want to prove your value to the queen? Prove it right here in Meereen."
"He's a foreign dwarf that barely speaks the language. Why would the Meereenese listen to him?" Ser Jorah argued with a heavy scowl.
"They wouldn't. They will listen to Grey Worm." Despite Daario's words, Grey Worm proclaimed he would rather go with them to find Daenerys, though Missandei wisely took hold of his arm in order to tell him tenderly that he was not strong enough yet, though this he denied rather obstinately. Rhaena smiled to herself. She liked this trait of Grey Worm's. "He is," Daario agreed, "he's the toughest man with no balls I've ever met. But you still can't go. The people believe in you. They know you speak for the queen."
"It's true. Only the Unsullied can keep the peace in Meereen. If you leave, half the city will consume the other half." Missandei convinced, still speaking in her soft and quiet tone but it carried a certain clarity which prompted those around her to listen and take heed.
"And Missandei. Our queen trusts no one more than Missandei. Certainly not me." Turning to each person in turn, Daario looked to those who would now take over the management of the city in the queen's stead whilst he and Ser Jorah would go to find her and bring her home. "The queen's closest confidant, the commander of the Unsullied, and the foreign dwarf with the scarred face." Last of all he then raised his face to look upon Rhaena who even whilst sitting, sat above them all, resting casually but looking no less regal than his own queenly lover. "And the sister to our very own queen. Who else can sit in our queen's place and rule in her stead in her absence? Who else can command the respect of those who have come to love or fear our queen? Rhaena will act as regent, and you three shall help her keep this city together." There was no room for argument, though Rhaena made a sour face at the thought of having such responsibility dropped upon her shoulders. She will have to speak to Sansa about this, and Syrio was well. Sansa had a knack for fresh perspective and Syrio was a was man. She would trust their counsel just as much as Missandei's and Grey Worm's. "Good fortune, my friends, Meereen is ancient and glorious. Try not to ruin her." With a word to Ser Jorah, the two men left to set out upon their journey, leaving a rather tense and uncertain collection of people behind them. Rhaena tolerated the silence for as long as she could bear it before giving a mighty huff and rising to her feet.
"Today has dragged on long enough. The city has calmed, the Unsullied and the Second Sons guard the streets and the pyramid…there is nothing more to be done today. Each of us will go and ponder upon what must be done, and we shall meet on the morrow to break our fast together and discuss any matters of business and what must be done for the city." Doing her best to seem confident and certain, Rhaena turned her gaze upon Grey Worm. "Torgo Nudho." If possible, Grey Worm stood up even straighter than before. "As pleasing as your naked flesh is to the eye, it would be appreciated if you would wear a shirt to tomorrow's council meeting." Her eyes glinted with her smile as Missandei had to turn her head to hide her amusement as Grey Worm frowned, attempting to understand the humour.
"As you command, my princess." Nodding her head, Rhaena began to descend the stairs though her hand brushed against Tyrion's shoulder as she did so, a light contact of familiarity and affection before she drifted away in order to tell Sansa what had been decided. Rhaena needed rest first and foremost. Her body still ached from the fighting and if she was now to be the City Regent, then she would need all the rest she could take before the onslaught of tomorrow. Watching her sister rule had been exhausting enough. Rhaena dreaded to think what it would be to actually sit in her sister's place. A small part of herself withered at the thought. So long as she was not required to wear a crown, then Rhaena would do her duty and then gladly hand over the responsibility back to her sister once she returned. Ruling was not something Rhaena ever intended to undertake. Not after seeing such disasters before her sister sit upon thrones. Having seen what power could do to a person, she vowed to keep it as far out of her reach as possible unless absolutely necessary.