Daenerys
"Poison," Ser Jorah said, tapping his finger on the table. "We find out what he prefers to eat, we poison it, and that allows your champion to defeat him. A man can only fight so hard when his stomach is in knots."
Domino though shook her head, setting down her goblet of wine. "That would mean one of us managing to get into Meereen, finding where they are keeping their champion, and then try and learn how to poison his food. And even if we did manage to do all that there is still the chance that we won't use enough poison. Or that we will use far too much."
"Is it truly a concern if we use too much?" Ser Jorah said. "He dies and we don't have to face him."
"We kill him and the Masters of Meereen will not react kindly. They will come after us with everything and while we can win the battle it will mean the needless loss of life."
"Can't you just do it?" Logan grunted before sucking some meat off a crab leg. "That is your power, isn't it? To do the impossible?"
"My power is that I am lucky," Domino told him. "I was born when the heavenly bodies were at their most unaligned, during a great drought and famine, and when a two-headed calf was born and died within moments. All the ill luck of the world was focused on other matters and what poor casting of the die that was meant for me was busy elsewhere so only luck came to my side." She shook her head in annoyance. "But that doesn't mean that I can do anything. I am lucky… but if there are moments where luck doesn't matter and I must suffer then it will happen. I could very well manage to find a hole in the defenses of Meereen, discover where they are hiding their champion, and properly poison him. Or I could be captured and thrown in a cell and the lucky part is that the rats don't eat me right away."
"I'd also like to point out," Wade said, leaning in rather too close to Domino, "that luck isn't a superpower."
"It is," Domino said dryly.
"Really isn't," Wade said.
Domino shrugged… before slamming her hand on the table, causing one of the knives to flip end over end before landing perfectly between two of her fingers, the handle wobbling slightly.
"…still not a power," Wade said. "And I keep telling you that the best way to defeat the Hulk is to sail to Westeros, find Natasha Stark, and have her sing to him! It makes perfect sense!"
The others just looked at him.
"Well, that or convince him that he needs to leave so he does that sad walking away thing. Oooo, I could have the Second Sons play really melancholy music!"
Daenerys leaned back in her chair, reaching over to scratch Viserion's head, her dragon rumbling as she did so. Drogan and Rhaegal were outside, for it was Viserion's day to accompany her to the meeting of her Small Council and get the benefit of his mother's scratches. Of course considering the circles they found themselves talking in she suspected the dragons were beginning to prefer their days outside the tent rather than the ones actually in it.
Servants moved about them, bringing new plates of food and refilling glasses as they worked for the fifth straight day to solve their problem. The moment Daenerys had seen Meereen's champion, the one known as 'The Hulk', she had realized that this would not be like Yunkai or Astapor. Clever ruses and sudden battles in the shadows would not win the day here. The Meereen Masters had decided to present her with a mountain and demand she chip away at it with a comb and while Dany was determined to do just that the act of defeating the mountain was far more difficult than merely saying it would happen. Thus they had been calling war councils for the last few days, meeting with members of her Khalasar, with the former slaves of Yunkai and Astapor, other Unsullied, even members of the Second Sons in hopes of figuring out some way to defeat The Hulk.
"It is the same as trying to capture him," Daenerys said. "We can't hope to defeat him before the fight because he is safe in Meereen. It is the battle we must focus on. That is how we will win."
"And I still say you let me at him," Logan said, popping his claws. "I'll cut him up nice and good."
Wade placed a hand on Logan's shoulder. "Listen Wolvie, I love the enthusiasm but in this case… no. Just no. You and me? We can heal damn fast. But the Hulk can also heal quick too. I'm not sure if he can regrow limbs but you cut him and it will last only a few seconds. You stab him and you might find your blades stuck because his skin heals around him. And that is assuming that you actually manage to make a cut on him. Yeah, Adamantium Claws…" Wade wiggled his fingers. "So scary! But the Hulk… that fucker is in a league of his own. He just might be able to tank a slice."
"Wade is correct," Grey Worm said, speaking up. "And then there is the small matter of getting in close to him. He has a far longer reach and from what I saw he is faster than a man his size should be."
"That thing is no man," Jorah complained. "It's a monster borne of our nightmares. One that will keep us from taking the final of the Three Sisters."
Daenerys shut her eyes, feeling a small headache coming on. "Then perhaps we need a fighter who can attack him from a distance."
Even as she said it she knew that her Small Council would protest. That didn't stop her from wincing as they began to complain, rather loudly, that there was simply no way she could be her own champion. It didn't matter that she knew she could create flames hot enough to kill The Hulk… they feared that if she did battle him he would rip her into pieces. Not helped by Wade commenting that from what he knew of the Hulk, which was more than the rest of them combined, tearing off limbs was a favorite pastime of his.
"I'll just fight him," Logan growled. "Or Wade can fight him. Or both of us. Meereen said we could have more than one champion."
"Uh, how am I supposed to fight him when I have an erection?" Wade asked. "Because let me assure you that is what I am going to be dealing with if you get me too close to the Green Scar." He turned to Grey Worm. "But I promise baby it's only lust. You're the only one who gets to tear apart my boypussy with your throbbing horse cock and paint my brown walls white." He made a kissy noise and Grey Worm just stared at him; Dany honestly wondered how Grey Worm could STILL be befuddled by Wade's comments after all this time.
"I still say we need to find some way to even the odds," Ser Jorah said.
"Khaalesi," one of the dothraki bloodriders said, stepping into the tent, "Astan Whitebeard, the aide and servant of Meereen's champion, seeks an audience with you."
Wade clapped his hands and pointed skyward. "Chaos you fucking son of a bitch! Its cliché as hell but we'll fucking take it!" he turned to the servant. "Send that bastard in."
"Wade," Daenerys said coldly, "I am the khaalesi. I am the one that gives the command on who we see and who we do not. You will remember that or you will face my wrath."
The mercenary blinked (and it was so odd how he made his MASK blink… Daenerys was almost pulled out of her anger trying to figure that out) before nodding his head. "Right, of course. Sorry about that."
"…send him in," Daenerys said, ignoring the way Domino was snickering.
The old man that entered was not one Daenerys would have called dashing or heroic. Nor was he brutality and violence made flesh. He was not like Ser Jorah who while aged had earned his years through battle. Before her was a Bent Back, as the Dothraki would call him in their tongue. Or Grass Croucher… that might have been the better term for him as Dany took him in. A man who had not fought in battles but rather hid amongst the reeds, waiting until the fighting was finished before revealing himself. Such men were looked upon as being even lower than slaves, for at least a slave could blame the ropes around their wrists for their lack of spirit. True warriors, great warriors, among the Dothraki did not live to be old men with white hair. They died young so that they might be able to join with the great ghostly horde while able to still mount a stallion.
Astan was wearing long robes, rough in texture and rather plain when compared to what the Great Masters of Meereen preferred. Despite his name his beard was a pale gray rather than snowy white and it was rather short; she had seen Logan during marches grow out longer whiskers than the man who called himself Greybeard was able to manage. He leaned on as staff, back bent slightly, and his eyes were half closed as if he wished to already be asleep.
"Your grace," Astan said, his voice cracking slightly. "Thank you for seeing us." A man with dark brown hair, dressed himself in loose robes, stood next to Astan, placing a hand on the old man's arm as if he were afraid he would fall. "The Champion of Meereen has asked me to talk with you. He would like to know a bit more about you."
"And why is that, Astan Greybeard?" Daenerys asked, keeping herself posed and dignified despite her annoyance at this interruption. "I am sure tales of my exploits have reached Meereen. Though I suppose if you wish to sift through the wheat from the chaff I can assist there. Would you like to know how I burned the masters of Astapor and took the Unsullied from under their noses? Or perhaps how I tricked the Master of Yunkai, drawing their eyes one way while my army took through from behind? Did he wish to know if my dragons were real?" She gestured at Viserion who raised his head for a moment before setting it back in her lap, understand that his mother merely was addressing the old man and didn't want him to burn. Though that did amuse Daenerys… "Was it my name? The Firestar?" She held up her hand and created a ball of fire in her palm, letting it shift into the form of first a maiden giving praise to the sky before turning into a warrior who raised his shield in triumph. "All true."
Much to her surprise, however, Astan merely stepped forward, careful not to come off as intimidating or dangerous… though Daenerys knew that there were children in her Khalasar that were more frightening than the old man before her. The Greybeard griped his walking staff and locked eyes with her, for the first time showing something other than weakness though it was only there for a moment.
"No, your grace. Nothing of what you have done so far. He would like to know of your past though… and your plans. Tell me… whatever happens here… will you go to Westeros?"
"I will," she said. "I will reclaim my family's throne."
"And your how will you do that?" Astan asked her. "With open hands? Promises? Threats? Fire and Blood as your ancestors did… or through alliances as others of your House chose?"
Daenerys frowned at that. "What is your point, Astan?"
"The Champion of Meereen… he wonders… which Targaryen do you wish to be? Are you Maegor who makes promises of better days only to become so focused on your own desires that you don't see the knives coming for you? Aegon the Uncrowned who rushed into battle and died for his folly? Baelor who was beloved by the Smallfolk and the pious for his mission to make the world better… only to bring ruin on yourself and others because you are blinded by what you believe is divine right?" He took another step forward. "Who are you, your grace?"
Daenerys opened her mouth only to click it shut. The answer had come so quickly, almost automatically. Aegon the Conqueror who had claimed the throne. Jaehaerys I who actually united 6 of the 7 Kingdoms as one. Aegon the Unlikely who had wandered amongst the people as a simple squire and never forgotten those days even when he rose from the lowest pits to the tallest towers. The names of the great Kings of Westeros almost passed through her lips but she found herself unable to say the words.
'Because to do so is to answer like a child,' Daenerys realized in that moment. 'It is no different than the boys I saw playing in the yard from my balcony, calling out which famed hero of Essos history they were as they pretended sticks were swords.'
She looked at Astan, squaring her shoulders and meeting his gaze not as a child but as a woman… as a khaalesi. As a queen.
"None of them, Astan Greybeard. I am Daenerys Firestar and I will write my own place in history. Yes… I will admit it is tempting to say that I will burn my enemies if they do not bend the knee. That I will take pleasure in seeming them submit to my rule. But my father lost our throne because of delusions and fire and though I am his daughter I will NOT be him." She snuffed out the flames that had still been dancing along her fingers. "The traitors will be dealt with but I also understand that there are those who fought for the right reasons. To them I will offer a chance of mercy. I will not be the sand that shifts under the fall of hooves nor will I be the branch that can deliver a swift strike only to snap against even the most rushed steel. I will be the blade of grass; I will bend when I must, I will cut when I must, and no matter what I will stand tall afterwards each time."
She could tell that the answer pleased Astan for a smile tugged slightly on his lips before he spoke once again. "And my second question, your grace: your childhood… were you happy?"
Daenerys hadn't expected that. "I… what did you…"
"Were you happy?" He took another step forward. "I know that it must have been difficult for you, your grace. Fleeing, racing from place to place, depending on the kindness of strangers, never able to breathe easily. But… were there any moments of happiness?" He blinked and she was startled to see there were tears in his eyes.
"I… I don't-" Dany stopped, her befuddled at the line of questioning fading as something occurred to her. "Who are you old man?"
"I… am Astan-"
"Do not lie to me," Dany said firmly. "You have already betrayed yourself." She rose from her chair, Viserion growling slightly as he pulled his head away but Daenerys placed her hand on his head, keeping him from leaping forward. "All that I have meet so far in my campaign have referred to me as khaalesi. But you never have. "Your Grace". That is always what you call me. So tell me… who are you?"
Astan straightened suddenly, handing the walking staff to his silent companion as he let his spine become stiff and hard, rising to his full height. As he did so it was as if the years slid away from him and the mask of the old man shattered. He was still aged but no longer bent and weak. No… Dany saw that she had been terribly wrong about this man. He was not one to hide amongst the reeds… unless it was to prepare to strike out at warlords. His wrinkled hands that had grasped at the staff in need now reached up and pulled open his robes, revealing that under the shapeless plain robes was fine armor, pale in color and while unadorn with any etchings or other emblems of wealth or standing; yet she knew at once that it was of the grandest quality.
Logan instantly went to his feet, his claws popping from his wrists, but of all people it was Wade who caught his wrist and shook his head, bobbing his head towards Astan's side… and the empty scabbard that hung there. Her protector made no move to calm himself though, remaining tense, and Ser Jorah had risen as well, placing his hand on the pommel of his sword as Astan fell to one knee and bowed his head.
"I am the man who must live with the eternal shame of not racing to follow you and your family into exile, your grace."
It was Ser Jorah who spoke. "Careful, khaalesi. This is Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of Robert Baratheon's Kingsguard."
"And before that your family."
Daenerys nodded. "You served my father."
"For a time, your grace. When he was still a good man and a good king. And while no crown adorned his head… I served your brother, Rhaegar. A good man. A good prince. A good friend."
Domino leaned back in her chair, letting out a lazy sigh. "Until he kidnapped a woman, disgraced his wife, and destroyed a dynasty."
Daenerys hid her wince at that reminder of her family's sins. Ser Jorah and Viktor had done all they could to make her understand that the tales fed to her of her family's 'glorious reign' were merely that: tales. They had not been silver gods as the Targaryens of old had believed. They were men and women… flawed as anyone else.
But what was more interesting to Dany was the fact that Ser Barristan winced just as she did.
"Yes," he admitted. "Rhaegar… he made mistakes. Terrible mistakes. All of us… have made mistakes." He looked around the table, eyes challenging each of them. "Can any of us deny that? Turning left when we should have gone right. Trusting one when we should have slit their throat. Choices made that we will always live with."
"…I haven't."
Everyone turned to stare at Wade.
"What? I haven't. I'm perfect." He put his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair… only to suddenly pinwheel his limbs as he lost his balance and went crashing to the ground. "Fuck you Chaos!" he roared.
Daenerys couldn't help but smile before turning back to Ser Barristan. "You are right, of course. People make mistakes. It is what they do to make up for those mistakes that matters. You fought for my brother…"
"I nearly died for him. I know Robert Baratheon killed him and for that you will never love the man… but he saw my wounds tended to when others would have let me die. And when he offered for me to serve him… once I believed my vows were to my king. Rickard Stark burned to death because of my choice to honor Aerys. So when Robert was crowned I decided that the vows of the Kingsguard were not to the king… but to the kingdom. To serve and protect and bring peace to the realm. And for a time… that was enough."
"And now?" Dany asked.
"Robert's greatest sin as king was that he was a lazy one. He won the crown but as soon as he had it he had no idea what to do with it. He behaved like a lord of a small keep with a large purse. Such things can be forgiven by most if such a king surrounds himself with good and wise counselors… and Robert did have that.
"But I have seen his son… if he even is his son. Joffrey… that boy is a cruel creature. He is the worst of his parents with none of their blessings. And the damage done by the Iron Man has only made things worse. The Seven Kingdoms are in turmoil… and the last I heard the white ravens have begun to fly."
Grey Worm frowned. "Why would we care of ravens and their colors?"
Ser Jorah spoke. "White ravens are sent out to signal that the summer is ending and winter is about to come. This has been the longest summer in centuries… a long winter is about to come."
Ser Barristan nodded at that. "And the Seven Kingdoms are not ready. The Tyrells focus on position rather than on gathering crops. The Riverlands recover from the scouring the Lannisters gave them as revenge for the capture of Tyrion Lannister. The Iron Islands are a pot that has been allowed to boil over and now all manner of reavers are coming forth. For the Seven kingdoms to survive they need one ruler. And there is only one that has the right to the throne." Ser Barristan bowed his head. "I offer my sword to you, Daenerys Targaryen, First of her Name."
Dany stared at the old man in surprise. 'Ser Barristan the Bold. Even in exile I learned of him. It is said that he is the last of a lost era, when the title of knight actually meant something in the Seven Kigndoms. When he bent the knee to Robert he gave his reign legitimacy. Until that point there were many who held firm that Viserys was the rightful king and Robert was merely a cousin with delusions far above his station. Little more than a Blackfyre draped in the stag of Baratheon. But when no other kingsguard sought out Viserys and Ser Barristan became the Lord Commander of the Usurper's Kingsguard those voices quieted.'
That hadn't been the tale that Viserys had fed her when they were young. In his stories Ser Barristan, or 'Selmy' as he would disrespectfully call the man, spitting out the name like a curse, had betrayed them the first chance he got, faking his injuries. Some times, when her brother had drank too much wine at their host's table, he would even claim the man had assisted in killing their brother, stabbing him from behind in the leg so that the Usurper could become the kinslayer he truly was.
But Doom and Ser Jorah had made clear that those tales were merely the ramblings of a bitter man. Ser Barristan had been wounded trying to protect Daenerys' brother, the one she had never known, and while he had bent the knee he had remained honorable all the same. None could claim that he had done anything to heap scorn upon him, never breaking the knightly vows he held so dear.
And now he bent the knee to her and repledged himself to her family.
"Tell me," Ser Jorah said, "is the reason you are here because you believe in our khaalesi's cause? Or is it because you have no place to go?" He kept his hand on the pommel of his sword, never relaxing. Even Logan had by that point allowed his claws to slide back between his knuckles. "I have listened to the traders who come to the harbors and docks. They all sing of how Joffrey dismissed you from his Kingsguard after you failed to prevent the Iron Man from wounding him. Would you even be here if Joffrey had patted you on the head and allowed you to remain in the White Tower, closing your eyes to his crimes?"
Ser Barristan's face twitched slightly before locking eyes with Ser Jorah. "A man can realize that he serves the wrong masters, Ser Jorah Mormont. A man can regret what he did out of greed… you know that well enough, I think."
Dany looked at the Westerosi knights, first Ser Jorah then back to Ser Barristan, before finally holding up her hand. There was a story there but now was not the time. "I am open to granting you a place among us, Ser Barristan." The old knight let out a sigh of relief but Daenerys continued to speak. "But there are other matters that concern me. You are sworn to the Champion of Meereen, another foe that stands in our way."
"Actually we really don't," the quiet man who'd come with Ser Barristan said. Dany actually started at that, as she had forgotten the unassuming man was even still there, so focused had she become on the Kingsguard knight kneeling before you.
"Who are you?" Daenerys asked.
"Bruce of Tarth," the man said with a shy and quiet smile, like he was utterly embarrassed though Dany didn't know- "The Champion of Meereen."
Logan let out a snort.
"If you are the Champion of Meereen then I am one of the goddesses of Old Ghys returned in mortal form," Domino said with a huffing laugh.
Daenerys nodded. "I have witnessed the Champion of Meereen, seen him fight. You are..." she trailed off, finally deciding just to wave in the man's general direction to get her point across.
"Oh yeah," Bruce said with a nervous laugh. "Not very impressive. I get that." He shut his eyes, took a breath… and opened them again to reveal blazing emerald orbs. "But the other guy?"
Logan popped his claws again but once more Wade stopped him, though this time it was by wrapping his arms around him from behind.
"Shhh," Wade whispered. "It's okay teddy bear, it's okay. Also," he leaned in close, "if you feel something squirming against the delicious ass of yours… it's just my cock. Don't be afraid, he won't hurt you. Well, unless we run out of lube."
Ser Barristan leapt to his feet and placed a hand on Bruce's shoulder but the unassuming man merely smiled, took several deep breaths, and allowed the green glow to disappear from his eyes. "It's fine… Big Guy and I have an understanding at the moment. Everyone is calm and he'll be calm."
Daenerys frowned at that, rallying from the fright she'd gotten from realizing that the Hulk was in her tent. "You speak of him like he is a different person?"
"He… kind of is?" Bruce rolled his hand about. "That's the thing… he's me but he's also not. The maesters say it can happen… two personalities in one body. Comes about because of trauma." He grimaced. "And I have trauma."
"How did this come about?" Domino asked in confusion. "It was strange enough that the khaalesi can command fire while Logan and Wade can heal. But you…?"
Bruce scratched the back of his head. "It's a long story… and I'll tell it if you want. But it begins with my cousin being very sick and me not accepting that meant she was doomed to either die or spend her days so weak she could barely get out of bed. It ends with the Other Guy pulling himself out of a crater in Old Valyria."
"Old… Valyria…" Daenerys whispered.
Ser Jorah was just as shocked. "You… you have seen it?"
"Seen it. Walked it. Known its secrets. Your motherland khaalesi? It got too bold. Thought they could bypass the dragons and becoming the power of the Freehold themselves. They opened a door and let something out that they shouldn't have… I'm lucky I only got the Other Guy."
The tales of her ancestor, the unfortunate Princess Aerea, who had defied her mother and stolen the Black Dread only to return and die such a torturous death… the nightmares those stories, of the transformation of that brave and beautiful girl into a blackened thing with monsters bursting from her flesh, returned once more.
Ser Barristan stepped forward once more. "When I found Bruce I had already heard that Meereen was seeking a challenger to face you, to keep you from completing your task of dismantling Slaver's Bay. We came to an accord that together we would make him their champion and in turn ensure your victory."
"By what?" Domino asked with a smirk. "Letting Logan here gut you? Easier ways to die."
Bruce though shook his head. "There was a time, before I learned to have some control over what was happening to me, where I wanted to die. I hired a cutpurse to put me down. He preferred arrows so he had me open my mouth and he placed a shaft between my lips." Wade let out a snicker at that and Daenerys rolled her eyes. "The Other Guy spat out the arrow head." He looked at them all. "I am not sure there is anything that can kill the Hulk."
"I can try," Logan said dangerously, though he had relaxed just enough that Wade was able to let him go… though Dany did think the mercenary grinding his hips into Logan's ass was unneeded. Logan did too, considering in the next instant Wade was on the ground, whimpering from Logan stabbing him in the balls.
"There is no need for that," Ser Barristan said, holding up his hands. "My father… he owed a debt to Bruce's grandfather. It is why I am helping him now. The two of you, your grace, can assist each other."
"What do you mean?" Daenerys asked.
Bruce spoke up. "I have suggested that the Meereen allow you multiple champions… I believe they have already let this be know? It is to make the show more impressive when the Hulk defeats them all. We put on a good show… a mock battle… and in the end the Hulk will submit. You will win and claim the city. And if they go back on the deal you will have your champions and the Big Guy ready to help you fight."
Wade, who had recovered from his stabbing, got to his feet. "Okay, hold up… there is no way Chaos lets the Hulk just play dead. Even he knows that the Jolly Green Giant loves to fight."
"You're right," Bruce said. "But… there is something he loves more." He looked at Daenerys, eyes softening. "My cousin… Brienne of Tarth. I did all I did… I gained the Other Guy… to heal her. And she is healed. She is strong now… and luckily has far more control over herself than I do. She is not separated into two like the Big Guy and me. She is one. I saved her." He sighed. "But in doing so I made enemies with members of the Faith. Including one squawking sparrow-" For the first time Dany saw the anger bubbling up in Bruce and knew that this wasn't the Hulk's anger but the unassuming man's own. "They will not take kindly to me returning to Westeros. The Big Guy… his blood helped make Brienne strong. He sees her just as much as family as I do and there are days that it takes all my willpower to keep him from diving into the Narrow Sea and swimming back to the Seven Kingdoms. He needs to see her, to make sure she is safe… and to have someone else in the world that is like him. We help you… and you pardon us so we can return home."
Daenerys leaned back in her chair, considering his words. "You both will swear to fight for me?"
"We will," Ser Barristan said.
"…then we have an accord," she said.
Dany then stood, calling on the flames from the candles and forming burning wings and a fiery crown to appear upon her.
"But betray me and I will be the Conqueror, Ser Barristan. I will bring my wrath with fire and blood. And I will see if the Hulk is truly as unkillable as you claim."
