"The whore is pregnant," King Robert Baratheon spat with disgust, opening the council meeting with his most trusted advisors and friends. Ned Stark shook his head at his old friend, "You're speaking of murdering a child. One that has been in exile for over a decade nonetheless." he pointed out.
"I warned you this would happen." Robert growled, ignoring his hand's words, " Back in the North, I warned you, but you didn't care to hear. Well, hear it now. I want 'em dead, mother and child both. Is that plain enough for you? I want them both dead." He declared.
"You will dishonor yourself forever if you do this," Ned argued, trying to persuade Robert from going through with his bloodthirsty plan. "Honor?!" Robert shouted. "I've got Seven Kingdoms to rule! One King, Seven Kingdoms. Do you think honor keeps them in line? Do you think it's honor that's keeping the peace? It's fear! Fear and blood!"
"Then we're no better than the Mad King!" Ned snapped, "For he ruled with the same, The only difference between us and him is that we have not resorted to using fire."
The other council members looked at Ned with wide eyes, wondering what had possessed him to bring the Mad King up. It was an unspoken law to never speak of the previous king, no one wanted to remember such cruelty or fear. They wanted to leave the past behind them, and move forward. Robert's face went from red to pale as he pointed a finger at his old friend, "Careful, Ned. Careful now" he warned him shakily. "You want to assassinate a girl...because the Spider heard a rumor? How do you sound right now, brother?" Ned asked, hoping he would see sense.
Varys finally spoke up, putting in his two-bits. "No rumor, my Lord. The princess is with child."
"Based on whose information?"
"Ser Jorah Mormont's. He is serving as a Translator for the Targaryen."
"Mormont?" Ned gave a dry chuckle, "You bring us the whispers of a traitor half a world away and call it fact?" he inquired of the Spy master. "Jorah Mormont's a slaver, not a traitor. Small difference, I know, to an honorable man," Petyr Baelish said on behalf of the other man with a smirk. "He broke the law, betrayed his family, and fled our land. We commit murder on the word of this man alone?" Ned appealed to the council.
"And if he's right? If she has a son?" Robert challenged. "A Targaryen at the head of a Dothraki army…what then?" The lord of Winterfell shook his head, "The Narrow Sea still lies between us." Ned pointed out. "I'll fear the Dothraki the day they teach their horses to run on water."
"Do nothing? That's your wise advice? Do nothing 'til our enemies are on our shores? You're my council? Counsel! Speak sense to this honorable fool." He insisted of the other men on his side of the argument. Varys shifted in his seat before speaking up again. "I understand your misgivings, my Lord. Truly, I do" he looked to the Stark lord with a regretful expression.
" It is a terrible thing we must consider, a vile thing. Yet, we who presume to rule must sometimes do vile things for the good of the realm. Should the gods grant Daenerys a son, the realm will bleed." He tried to reason. "I bear this girl no ill will," Grand Maester Pycelle added on, "But should the Dothraki invade, how many innocents will die? How many towns will burn? Is it not wiser, kinder even, that she should die now so that tens of thousands might live?" He left the question open, knowing no one would speak of how much of the seven kingdoms would be covered in blood should the horse lords cross.
"We should have had her killed years ago." Renly Baratheon mumbled quietly. "When you find yourself in bed with an ugly woman, best close your eyes, get it over with. Cut her throat. Be done with it." Petyr gave a light chuckle. Ned still wasn't convinced that assassinating a young girl was the right thing to do. Starting right at Robert, his own eyes unwavering, he said, "I followed you into war - twice, without doubts, without second thoughts. But I will not follow you now. The Robert I grew up with didn't tremble at the shadow of an unborn child."
With his own eyes staring back, "She dies." Robert declared. "And what about the supposed Naylor guarding Daenerys and her unborn child since we are all in agreement to listen to nothing but rumors from an exiled man and a few spies. What about the fact that the very same Naylor protecting the last of the Targaryen line, is indeed the heir of Viserys, that he himself declared a day before he died?!" Ned Stark asked angrily.
At the sound of that name, no one spoke. That was a name no one in the seven kingdoms had heard for a while, nor did they ever want to again. Uncomfortable looks were exchanged amongst the men at the table. "You all are so focused on a girl who has no interest in Westeros, you are forgetting about the one who could actually be showing a hint of interest if we are hearing correctly." he said pointedly.
"My little birds do not lie, my lord. They bring me the truth of what they hear." Varys stated calmly. "And that is the point, that is the point right there!" Ned pointed a finger at the spy master, " What if they are hearing lies and we are taking them for truths?! What if Daenerys isn't pregnant? What if Viserys didn't name this young Naylor his heir? What if these are all just rumors or lies to intimidate us?!" he took a deep breath in and exhaled to calm himself.
"If the woman with sea in her hair and the sky in her eyes is guarding the Targaryen line like her ancestors once did then we are asking for life as we know it to end. She has already used her powers once from what the Spider's spies tell us. From one petty argument alone she was able to summon the power of thunder and lightning to chase away her enemies. Let us not forget the mystical beasts that act as the Naylor's own protectors. Are you really willing to risk the wrath of a Naylor and her beasts bearing down on all of Westeros just because of a rumor of one girl and her unborn child?" Ned asked genuinely concerned.
It was silent in the room for a long time. A Naylor's wrath was a fury that no one ever wanted to witness unless they were on the safe side of it. Thunder, wind, ice, and firestorms, along with massive floods, earth shakes, or a combination of any of the above listed were all entirely possible for members of the Naylor line to summon. And they did. Aegon and his sisters conquered and shaped Westeros with their dragons yes, but they had help. No great thing is achieved by one's self, even a little help is needed from time to time.
"I will have no part in it." Ned spoke when he had enough of the silence, " I won't have those lives on my hands and I won't have the Naylor woman bringing down the wrath of the gods on my head when it is easily avoidable."
"You're the King's Hand, Lord Stark." Robert frowned, " You'll do as I command or I'll find me a Hand who will." He threatened. However, Ned simply removed his badge and placed it on the table in front of Robert. "And good luck to him. I thought you were a better man." He frowned, the whole room silent at the sight before them. Before Robert could open his mouth though, Ned turned on his heels and began to walk out the room. With a beet red face, Robert stood up suddenly and screamed at Ned's retrieving figure.
"Out! Out, damn you! I'm done with you. Go! Run back to Winterfell! I'll have your head on a spike! I'll put it there myself, you fool! You think you're too good for this? Too proud and honorable? This is a war! That Targaryen bitch and her unborn savage child will all die before this is over, whether or not a lone Naylorian bitch protects them! MARK MY WORDS, NED STARK, MARK THEM!"
0o.0o.0o.0o.
"Vaes Dothrak. The city of the horse lords," Ser Jorah announced as they stood on a ridge overlooking the city. Guarding the entrance, were two gigantic bronze stallions whose hooves meet a hundred feet above the roadway to form a pointed arch. Below its arch were the thousands of members of the Khalasar racing into the city, happy to be home. Ranta could even briefly spot a smile on Khal Drogo's face as he raced his horse through the gates.
The trio of humen watched the excited man go without a word. Daenerys had been watching particularly closely, "If Drogo and I were to follow behind Ranta, could we conquer the Seven Kingdoms? Military strength wise?" She asked Ser Jorah. "We'd have to get them to cross the sea first." Ranta pointed out and Jorah nodded in agreement. "Ranta is right Khaleesi, the Dothraki fear any water their horses can't drink. Which is why they've never crossed before."
"But if they did?"
"King Robert is fool enough to meet them in open battle, but the men advising him are different."
"And you know these men?"
Ser Jorah nodded his head, "I fought beside them once….a long, long time ago." At the distant look in his eye, Ranta decided to change topics. "Enough with talk of the past and blood and ruin. Its ruining my mood. We are supposed to be looking towards the future, thoughts filled with a brown haired Targaryen baby trying to ride a horse his father puts him on before he is a year old." she smirked, tugging on the reigns in the direction of the city and squeezed the sides of her feet into her horse to get him moving.
"Speaking of Dothraki babies...should I begin looking for a wedding gift to give you and Rakharo?" Daenerys cooed. An annoyed look overcame Ranta's face at the teasing and gave Dany her meanest look she could muster though it did little to erase the amusement from the Targaryen. "You are dead to me Dany. Dead." the Naylor declared, gaining laughter from her best friend. "Oh come on, Ranta." Dany laughed moving her horse after Ranta's and up beside it as close as she could get the horses together. " It's about time you found yourself someone to settle down with. You aren't getting any younger you know." she said coyly.
"Would you like to keep that hair of yours pretty and silver, or would you like it all chopped off?"
Ser Jorah watched the two women bicker with a small smile, "Have I missed something?" he asked hoping to be let in on what they were talking about. Dany all too happily slowed her horse to walk besides Jorah's once more, "Do you know who paid Ranta a visit a few nights ago in her tent?" Ranta groaned aloud. "Nothing happened! We talked, that was it." she exclaimed.
"Irri and I were in her tent hoping to talk a bit before retiring for the night," the Targaryen continued anyways, " but Ranta kept trying to get us to leave. When I asked her who she was expecting, guess who walked in?" Dany grinned.
"Who?"
"Rakharo." she whispered loudly, "Asked if he should come back later when he saw Irri and I." A smile similar to the Khaleesi's graced Ser Jorah's lips as understanding filled his mind. "I told you he fancied you, child. You did not believe me. Now he is paying visits to your tent under the cover of night." he called up to the blue eyed woman with teasing in his own voice.
"I hope you both find flies in your food." Ranta then galloped off, leaving laughter behind her. Though she acted as if the teasing were the worst thing to happen to her in the world, she wasn't actually all that mad with Daenerys or Ser Jorah. Ranta knew it was all in fun, if she had been Dany or Jorah, she would of done the same. The Naylor's own words had been true though, wither the duo believed it or not.
That night Rakharo had visited, they had merely talked. Sometimes in common tongue, sometimes in Dothraki and covered just about anything they could think of. Ranta learned that Irri was actually Rakharo's younger cousin and that they were all they had left of blood family seeing as their blood line had been very small. In return, Rakharo had learned how she had all but been abandoned by her family because of the Mad Kind's insanity.
When he questioned how she could just be abandoned, Ranta shrugged. She only knew that her mother had fought to take her with her when she fled but certain circumstances unknown to her, prevented that. No one else had tried to take the little blue haired Naylor with them, which is what led her mother to turn to the Targaryen queen to protect her daughter until she was old enough to do so herself.
"So you have no idea where any of your family is?" the Dothraki warrior asked sympathetic. Ranta shook her head, "I don't even know if my own mother is alive. I don't know where to even begin looking if I wanted to track her or any of the others down. The only family I've ever really known besides my blood kin was the Targaryens. Rhaella Targaryen was a second mother to me, Rhaegar and Viserys Targaryen were brothers to me and then there is our Khaleesi, Daenerys Targaryen who is a sister to me." Ranta listed off.
Rakharo hesitated slightly, noting how the woman in front of him had used past tense to describe her second family to him. "You do not have much luck with family do you?" he joked lightly. Ranta chuckled and shook her head, "No. No I do not." she agreed in common, her heart constricting at the thought.
Later in the afternoon, long after Ranta and everyone who had entered the city that morning had their things unpacked and tents set up, Daenerys and Ser Jorah paid a visit to Ranta's place. "Ranta? Are you here?" Daenerys asked peeking her head into the room and seen that the blue haired woman was on her back, resting upon her bed. Vaemarr and Laemyx in the corner, taking a nap their selves. Snorting to herself, Daenerys walked in anyways with Ser Jorah following, carrying a chest.
"Perhaps we should come back later, Khaleesi." he suggested after seeing the blue eyed woman resting along with her snakes. "Non-sense, Ser. She will be up all night if she continues to sleep any longer." Daenerys claimed walking up to Ranta's sleeping form and then shot her hand out, squeezing her upper thigh particularly close to her private area. And just how the Targaryen predicted, two hands locked around her wrist and a squeal shortly followed as a half asleep Ranta shot up in alarm.
"What is your problem, woman?" Ranta grumbled tiredly, pushing away the offending hand and rubbed her eyes clear of sleep. "You will throw your sleep pattern off if you sleep anymore, besides, I want to talk to you about something serious." Dany said simply, looking around the room to see the decorations hanging up. Ranta groaned but accepted the fact that she would not be going back to sleep.
When her slightly blurry eyes seen the exiled knight was also in her tent, she inwardly huffed, "And here I thought we were friends Ser Jorah, yet you let her wake me up. You are a cruel man." The Mormont chuckled, placing the chest down on the table stationed in her humble abode. "I tried to tell her, my lady, but she insisted." he told the now fully awake woman.
"So what is it that you wanted to tell me?" Ranta questioned curiously as Ser Jorah pulled up a chair for himself to sit in and as Daenerys took a seat next to the older woman on the bed. "You know as well as I do that we both loved Viserys dearly, despite some of his unpleasant ways." the Targaryen woman began, "But I think we can both agree that deep down, we did not want to see him on the Iron throne." Ranta remained silent.
Daenerys shifted slightly, " Had Viserys passed without naming you his heir, I would be next in line for the throne. But the thing is, I do not want the throne even though I have no right to it now that it was begreived to you. I have a baby on the way." She held her stomach protectively. "There is no time for me to rage a war, raise a child, give time to my husband and sit upon a throne. Which is why I have been supporting your claim to the throne now more than ever, you are better suited for it. You have already gotten yourself an advisor, Ser Jorah himself nonetheless, a guaranteed ally in Westeros and the support of Lord Illyrio and his friends back in Pentos wither you know it or not."
"When it comes to your army however, things are not going so well." Ser Jorah piped in, "Khal Drogo will not follow you across the Narrow sea, but he has agreed to help you gain some wealth to your name to buy an army. In about a month's time the Khalasar will leave and begin sacking cities." he revealed. "Before we do that though, you will..." Daenerys trailed off as Ser Jorah stood and grabbed the chest he placed on the table.
"Try to hatch your eggs." Dany finished as the man opened the top to reveal the dragon eggs she received on her wedding day. Ranta blinked in shock, "My eggs? They are yours." she pointed out as if she had forgotten. Daenerys looked at her eggs with a hint of longing in them, " I know, but to be truthful, for a while now I have been trying to hatch them but havent gotten any luck. Which is why I am giving them to you to try to hatch. You're going to need a mount to ride into battle once you get to Westeros, and what better mount than a dragon?"
Ranta looked at the trio of eggs for a long moment before turning her gaze to her close friend. "Dany, are you sure about this?" the blue eyed woman asked carefully and watched as the Targaryen nod with no hesitation. "The common people had been waiting for my brother. Illyrio said they were sewing dragon banners and praying for his return. But when word reaches them that a Naylor is returning to take the throne, the realm will be filled with dragons banners and storm clouds with lightning bolts alike" She said optimistically but was met with a quirked brow from the man in the room.
"The common people pray for rain, health and a summer that never ends,Khaleesi" Jorah chuckled amused at her naivety, "They don't care what games the high Lords play."he shook his head. Daenerys thought over this for a moment before asking "What do you pray for, Ser Jorah?". "Home," he answered immediately and when the young Targaryen turned to her fellow female companion, Ranta nodded her head. "I pray for home, too."
When the conversation died, Daenerys began to leave, mentioning something about grabbing something to eat but was quickly stopped by Ser Jorah. "You might not want to eat until two suns from now, Khaleesi." he advised much to her confusion. "And why not?" Dany asked with a furrowed brow. He rubbed the back of his neck with a nervous smile.
"A pregnant Dothraki woman will participate in the stallion heart ceremony, in which she will attempt to consume the heart of a stallion under the supervision of the Dosh Khaleen. Due to the prohibition on bearing steel in Vaes Dothrak, the mother must tear apart the stallion's heart with her bare teeth and fingernails. If she eats the entire heart, she will bear a son who is strong and swift and fearless. If she chokes on the blood or retches up the flesh, the omens are less favorable. The child might be stillborn, weak, deformed or female." he told her.
Ranta who did not even need to participate in such a thing, felt like retching up her last meal. "Oh that is disgusting! I will get on my knees and pray for you, darling." Ranta promised with a frown that was similar to the younger woman's. "The best I can do for you Khaleesi, is to have your handmaidens make you a tonic to drink that will curve your hunger." Ser Jorah said sympathetically and lead the stunned and unanswering woman out of the room and into the streets to get her the help he promised.
A violent shiver worked its way down Ranta's spine as she recalled what she had just heard, "The Dothraki sure do have weird customs." she mumbled before moving to the chest filled with her dragon eggs. "So you would not hatch for a Targaryen, huh? Let's see if you will hatch for a Naylor." Ranta grabbed the chest and walked over to the fire place, carefully setting each egg down on the metal crate above.
"Vaemarr, Laemyx. Come over here!" Ranta called to her slumbering children who groaned at the summoning. "Now." she added sternly when they made no move to get up. The brothers groaned again before finally opening their eyes and slowly made their way to their mother. "Dany gave us her eggs, they are ours now but we have to try to get them to hatch." Ranta explained to the two snakes who were now looking at the eggs closely, though not in a predatory way.
After a few moments, Vaemarr suddenly began pushing Ranta off to the side with his head as Laemyx took her spot directly in front of the eggs. Before Ranta could question what they were doing, she seen a faint glowing green light work its way up Laemyx's body and gathered into his throat before he opened his mouth and began spewing green fire into the fireplace under the eggs. Satisfied that his mother was stunned enough to not move, Vaemarr joined his brother's side but instead of spewing green fire - a deep blue fire escaped from his mouth after the light had traveled through his body and gathered in his throat.
No words could escape Ranta's lips at the sight before her. When in the seven hells had they learned to breathe fire? Have they always been able to do this and she just never seen it? Once the brothers were satisfied with the amount of fire they supplied, they slithered back to their mother's side, each forcing their head's under her hands in an attempt to get a reaction from her.
Instead of giving the affection they wanted- Ranta merely sat down on her carpeted floor and stared deep into the dancing green and blue fires, absently petting the tops of her children's heads when they lowered their heads into her lap and tried again for affection.
"Well this certainly changes a few things now doesn't it?"
0o.0o.0o.0o..0o
"A boy! A boy! A strong boy!"
"I can't believe she has to eat the whole thing" Ranta whispered to Jorah, her hand over her mouth in disgust as she watched her best friend eat the heart of a horse. She knew she shouldn't of come but when Daenerys stormed into her tent and grabbed the woman by her hair and began pulling her out, Ranta had little choice in the matter. "She's doing well." Jorah admitted, " Already half the heart is gone and with only a few pauses or hesitations." he noted.
"The Prince is riding. I have heard the thunder of his hooves, swift as the wind he rides. His enemies will cower before him. Their wives will weep tears of blood. All the people of the world will be his herd. He will be the Stallion Who Mounts the World!"
With the last bite, Dany choked and lunged forwards, falling onto her hands and knees in an attempt to regain control of herself. The chants had stopped and the whole tent waited as they watched the Khaleesi struggle for a few moments but when she knelt up straight again, opening her mouth for all to see - the tent erupted into cheers. "A prince rides inside me and his name will be Rhaego!" Daenerys declared proudly.
"Rhaego!"
"Rhaego!"
"Rhaego!"
The crowd chanted happily as Drogo held Daenerys above his head by wrapping his arms around the back of her knees and walking around the circular platform in the tent. The khalasar and the Dosh Khaleen continued to chant their son's name as Drogo placed Daenerys back on the platform after completing a full circle, stepping back and joining in with the chanting of his son's name.
While everyone was cheering, there were two who weren't. "Ser Jorah..." Ranta trailed off uncertainly. The former slaver had said that if Daenerys choked, the baby would be still born or deformed. So why were they still cheering? "We'll just have to see how things play out. Perhaps the gods will be merciful." the Mormont frowned worriedly, also concerned about the unborn child.
Neither Ranta nor Ser Jorah were able to fully enjoy the feast that soon followed after the ceremony, the nagging feeling of Daenerys choking and the bad omen that was associated with such action would not leave eithers head. Ranta had been one of the first to leave the feast, claiming that she had not been in the mood for celebrating and went back to her tent where she found Vaemarr and Laemyx were working on trying to hatch the trio of eggs with their colorful fires. After a few hours of watching for any kind of movement from the scaly eggs, the woman and the snake brothers went to sleep, allowing the fire to die out on its own.
0o.0o.0.0o..0o.o0
A few days later when things had calmed down a bit from the excitement of the recent feast, Daenerys, Ranta, Ser Jorah, Irri, Rakharo and Jhogo decided to all take a trip through the market. Respectively Ranta and Daenerys had their hands free - Irri insisting on carrying things that they had already bought while the Mormont and two Dothraki warriors played body guards for the women, keeping a sharp eye out on their surroundings.
The group traveled in general silence, taking in the sights before them of the different goods being sold and the people selling them. A particular stall barring house banners of Westeros, caught Ranta's attention the most. "I see something I want to check out," she caught the group's attention, "you all can go ahead and continue on. I can catch up later." the cloaked Naylor told them.
"Oh, well we can come with you." Daenerys offered with a confused frown as to why her friend would want to shop alone. "Oh no it's alright, Dany. Go on and find more stuff to buy. It won't be hard to find you." Ranta smiled as she tugged on a strand of her bright hair and then turned to walk away, throwing a visibly worried Rakharo a reassuring look before disappearing into the crowd.
"Westerosi goods! I have Westerosi goods! Medicines, fabrics, books and weapons that cannot be found in all of Essos! Westerosi goods here! I have Westerosi goods!" Ranta heard the merchant cry as she neared his stall. "May I offer you a good, my lady? I assure you, you will find no goods like mine anywhere else in this market." he offered to Ranta when he noticed her making a beeline for his stall.
"What goods can you offer me, good sir?" the Naylor said in common with a smirk, his accent was similar to hers and she knew he was no native of the Dothraki language. The merchant looked pleasantly surprised at her dialect choice, "You are of Westeros, my lady?" he asked with a smile. The woman nodded her head in confirmation, "I am good sir, good to meet someone from my country. It's refreshing." she smiled and then the two began bartering on medicines and books he sold. The medicine he sold her could 'cure any illness or poison' inflicted on a person and his books 'held everything in the world a person could want to know'.
Once she was stocked heartily with books and medicines all stuffed in a chest that could be carried on her back, Ranta eyed the banners hanging off the edges of his stall and on the stone wall next to his stall. "Tell me, do you know the house sayings of these banners of yours?" she asked looking down at the cloth beneath her fingers.
"Of course, my lady." he nodded, moving around to her side and pointing to each banner as he described them. "This is House Martell's banner. A red sun with a white arrow through it, ' Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken'. House Greyjoy. A yellow Kraken, 'We do not sow'. House Tyrell. A golden rose, 'Growing Strong'. House Baratheon. A black stag with a crown around his neck. 'Ours is the Fury'. House Lannister. A golden lion. 'Hear Me Roar'. House Arryn. A bird flying towards a crescent moon. 'As high as honor'. House Tully. A silver fish. 'Family, Duty, Honor'. House Mormont. A black bear. 'Here we stand'. House Targaryen. A red three headed dragon. 'Fire and blood'. House Stark. A grey dire wolf. 'Winter is coming'." he finished, visibly satisfied with himself that he was able to name so many of the great houses of Westeros and their sayings.
Ranta had been inwardly crushed that the man didn't have her house banner but she felt a glimmer of happiness flow through her when she seen Dany's banner and Ser Jorah's. "I would like to purchase the Targaryen and Mormont banners please." she requested, handing the man some coin and the merchant made quick work to properly fold the two banners for the woman. When he looked up to hand her purchase over, he frowned.
"Is there something wrong, my lady?" he asked, looking down to see if he had somehow improperly folded and ended up damaging the banners. Ranta quickly shook her head and flashed him a weak smile, "It is nothing, sir. Thank you for your help." she grabbed her purchase and made to leave but was stopped by the vendor. "Were you looking for something else?" he tried.
Ranta sighed and turned to the man, "House Naylor. A grey storm cloud with a single lightning bolt dropping down. 'You cannot hope to stand against the storm.' " she requested. "House Naylor..." the man blinked in shock before snapping out of it and abruptly ducking behind his stall, rummaging around for something.
"I all but believed that most people have forgotten about House Naylor when they all scattered and haven't been seen in years. But I haven't." he fired off quickly, " I admire House Naylor. I look up to them. They are kind, loyal, knowledgeable, give to those who are in dire need and their military prowess is outstanding. And their gifts from the gods! What a sight it would be to see for one's self. They never abused their gifts you know, even when helping Aegon Targaryen take over six of the seven kingdoms of Westeros did they not abuse their powers when others would. I could die a happy man if I could at least see a Naylor with my own two eyes." he rambled before finally standing again, holding a black banner.
Ranta felt her heart stop when he unfurled the banner and was graced with the sight of a grey storm cloud accompanied with a solitary lightning bolt. This was her banner. This was her family's banner. Ranta had not seen anything related to her family since they all but dropped off the face of the earth. Unknowing to herself, Ranta's hand had began to rise shakily and reached out to touch the material in the merchant's hands - uncaring of how the man watched her carefully in return.
Unshed tears had welled up in her eyes and was accompanied with a face was filled with misery and longing. It was at that moment the vendor knew he had come across one of the long lost Naylors he had dreamed of meeting. And it was clear that she spent a long time alone, away from her family. "The banner is yours, Lady Naylor." he said quietly, even though there was a possibility she was not listening. But by the way her fingers tightened around the cloth, he knew she was paying at least a bit of attention. "This is the last of its kind. Naylor banners are no longer flown in Westeros, they've either been burned or discarded all together." he explained sadly.
"I want you to know, Lady Naylor, that you may be alone now...but your family is out there. Waiting. There are whispers amongst the common people that the Naylors will reunite, right the wrong that has happened and bring peace to Westeros." he leaned in close, snapping her out of her stupor and whispering, " They want to see the woman with the sea in her hair and sky in her eyes return and become the Storm queen to sit upon the Iron Throne." ever so slowly, the merchant gently pulled back a piece of her cloak to see her blue strands.
Ranta remained still as he did this, watching his him carefully. "I have no army, no solid support in Westeros besides House Tyrell. You cannot add my family into supporting me because you have said yourself that they are still scattered." she whispered back. "Can I tell you something, your grace?" he asked and then leaned in to speak in her ear, "You do not need all these fancy houses of great lords backing you. Would it be helpful? Yes, but you can have something a lot better than the backing of the great houses...the common people. There is no one better than the common people who know the lands like the back of their hands." he explained at the confused sound that escaped past her lips.
"The common people grow the food, they gather the water, they make the clothes, they make the weapons. Servants of the castles know every nook and cranny there is to know, making it easy to note guard patterns and ease drop on private meetings. Though it is not spoken about that often, many know that the High lords dread the day House Naylor returns. You have spent your entire adult life Essos and your family has been missing for years yet people are hoping for your return. They will support you in any way they can, Lady Naylor. All you have to do is ask." he promised her.
Ranta opened her mouth to respond but was stopped by the sound of Irri's hysterical calling of her name. "Ranta! Ranta!" the Dothraki woman cried careening around the corner and ran up to Ranta, out of breath and tears falling down her face. " What is it Irri, what's wrong?" the blue eyed woman asked worriedly, holding onto the woman's shoulders with her three banners still in hand.
"It is the Khaleesi! Some one tried to kill Khaleesi! It was a wine merchant, he gave her poison wine!" she wailed. A sharp gasp escaped past the taller woman's lips at this fact, "Did she drink?!" Ranta demanded. "Yes but Jorah the Andal stopped her from drinking more but you must come quickly, my lady. Rakharo and Jhogo are taking the man back to camp as we speak and Khaleesi needs you. She will not stop asking for you. Come, Come!" Irri then began pulling Ranta away and the duo made their way back to the Targaryen, but not before Ranta heard the merchant call out to her, "Remember what I said, the common people are waiting for your return!"
The two women pushed their way through the crowd, uncaring of those who fell to the ground because of the rough shoves the females dished out. It hadn't been long until the sight of a still vomiting blonde and Ser Jorah holding her hair back filled their sight, "Dany!" Ranta cried worriedly, sliding on her knees to her best friend's side. "Ranta..." the younger woman panted, eyes red and watery. "You must keep puking, Khaleesi, all the poison has to come out." Ser Jorah said sympathetically.
"I cannot." Daenerys sobbed, "Nothing will come up anymore." she tried. Thinking on her feet, Ranta whipped the chest off her back and began digging for the medicine to cure all ails and poisons according to the merchant from before. "Drink then darling, try to drink this." Ranta coaxed and watched as a shaky Dany take the blue liquid from her hands and drink a good portion of the concoction.
"Better, sweet heart?" Ranta asked softly after a moment, smoothing back the silvery locks. "We should get her back to camp then." Ser Jorah muttered, picking the Targaryen up bridal style when he saw her nod. Ranta grabbed her things and followed after the Mormont, a silently sobbing Irri following unsurely. Thinking of a way to cheer her ill friend up, Ranta maneuvered the Targaryen banner to the top of the pile in her arms and walked side by side with Jorah.
"I have something for you, Dany." the Naylor tried weakly, handing Irri the other two banners. Daenerys opened her eyes that had been resting and looked at her curiously," I think this will make you feel a bit better. I bought it off the merchant I was with." Ranta informed before unfurling the black banner to show the red three headed dragon. "Oh Ranta, I love it." Daenerys smiled weakly, that grew a bit stronger when Ranta laid it over her with a bit of difficulty considering they were still walking at a brisk pace.
"The banner is very nicely made, that is a very nice gift." Ser Jorah smiled slightly as well. "Well I'm glad you like it, because I got you one too." Ranta grabbed the green banner and unfurled it in a similar fashion, watching various emotions flash in the Mormont's eyes. "A black bear." Dany muttered, "House Mormont, Here we stand." Ranta finished with a smile.
"Do you like it?" the Naylor asked when Jorah did not say anything. Ser Jorah snapped out of his inner turmoil and nodded, "I do, my lady. I love it more than you think. I did not think I would ever see my house banner again. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart." he smiled lovingly her way, an unreadable expression in his eye. "Ser Jorah rather is like a bear isn't he?" Daenerys suddenly joked softly, "Big, strong, protective...and certainly furry enough to be a bear" Ranta teased, boldly running a finger along his blonde beard.
"Jest all you want, my beard keeps my face warm during the cold nights."
0o.0o.0o..0oo.0
The camp of the khalasar had been in a frenzy when word had spread that someone had tried to kill the Khaleesi, but Rakharo and Jhogo had caught the man responsible before he could escape. Daenerys, Jorah, Ranta and her two children watched as the assassin was tied to a pole in the main tent after he had been beaten bloody during the interrogation. "Robert Baratheon wants me dead?" Daenerys said confused at the information Ser Jorah had learned for the women, "I have not even stepped foot in Westeros. I've never even met Robert Baratheon!" she exclaimed, now feeling much better than before.
"Doesn't matter." Ranta shook her head, "You're a Targaryen, the last Targaryen. There will always be people coming after your head. Especially now that you are having a baby" she told the blonde sadly. "Ranta speaks the truth Khaleesi," Jorah spoke, "so long as you live there will always be someone watching you from the shadows, there will always be someone trying to poison your food or drink, and there will always be someone trying to draw a blade across your throat to end your life and your son's."
The Targaryen frowned heavily, "He's not having my son. He can't have him." she growled, glaring at the man who tried to kill her and her unborn child. "And he won't, he won't get either of you." Ranta promised, gently pressing a hand on top of her belly. "Aunt Ranta won't allow it." the Naylor grinned, Laemyx and Vaemarr rubbing their strong heads along her belly - silently making their own promises to protect the unborn child along with his mother and earned grins in return from the Mormont and Targaryen alike.
The smile soon faded from Daenerys' face, "What will they do to him?" She asked, nodding her head at the wine merchant. "He'll be tied to the back of a horse and forced to run behind it for as long as he can." Ser Jorah told her. "And when he can run no longer?" Ranta asked. The exiled knight shifted, "I saw a man last nine miles once." he remarked uneasily.
The flaps of the tent were suddenly pulled back, Rakharo and Jhogo walked in holding fire torches and was followed by other Dothraki warriors of the khalasar. Soon the tent was filled to the brim with warriors, all waiting for their Khal but did not have to wait long. The mighty War lord walked in, his frame radiating fury from the news he had been given. Daenerys flashed a hint of a smile to reassure she was okay but he ignored it and slowly turned to glare at the puny, whimpering man who tried to kill the love of his life.
After a minute, he whipped away from the failed assassin and rushed towards Daenerys. "Moon of my life!" He cupped her cheeks and kissed her forehead urgently, "Are you hurt?" he asked concerned but was relieved when he watched her shake her head. "Jorah the Andal. " he turned to the Mormont, "I heard what you did." He clasped Jorah's shoulder tightly, leaning in to the man. "Choose any horse you want, it's yours. I make this gift to you." he patted his shoulder in a brotherly way.
Thinking he was not done with the former Westerosi, Ranta pointed to the unlit fire place. "Vaemarr, Laemyx." she gained the serpent brothers' attention and unknowingly the attention of every person in the tent, " Ignite" she ordered darkly. The two snakes rose to their full heights simultaneously, towering over the forms of many of the men in the tent, green and blue lights traveling up their respective bodies and then breathed their colorful fire into the dry fireplace once it was gathered in their throats.
Gasps rang out from the crowd but Ranta paid no attention to them, getting lost in the color of the fire as she usually did whenever they ignited the fire place in her tent to work on hatching the stone dragon eggs. Many looked to Ranta incredulously, mainly Dany and Ser Jorah, but again, she paid no mind of it. Satisfied with the state of the burning wood in the pile, the two snakes halted the fire escaping from their bodies and lowered themselves back down, returning to their mothers' side.
Drogo stepped back from Jorah and turned to the blue haired woman, whose cloak was down so her hair could be seen by all. "And to my little sister, who mothers these mighty beasts." Khal Drogo began with a soft expression on his face, "I will also pledge a gift to you for your quick thinking in giving the moon of my life medicine that helped save her life. I will give you the iron chair that my wife's father used to sit upon. I will give you the Seven Kingdoms." he declared staring into her now wide blue eyes
"I will take my Khalasar west to where the world ends...and ride wooden horses across the black salt water as no Khal has ever done before!" he declared with only brief pauses in between the supporting cries from his warriors around the multi-colored fire. Drogo then walked over to the wine merchant and got in his face, "I will kill the men in iron suits and tear down their stone houses!" Drogo yelled with spit flying from his mouth and stalked away from the quivering merchant, facing the crowd once again.
" I will rape their women...take their children as slaves... and bring their broken gods back to Vaes Dothrak! Once I am done with the men who hide behind stone walls, I will alter the course the gods have given my son. I will give my son the great grass sea! I will tear down cities with my bare hands and tear apart those who would stand in my way! Together, my son and little sister will come together and rule the people of the world! They will become one Khalasar! This, I vow! I, Drogo, son of Bharbo. I swear before the Mother of Mountains... as the stars look down in witness! AS THE STARS LOOK DOWN IN WITNESS! AS THE STARS LOOK DOWN IN WITNESS!" Drogo's bellows were nearly lost in the cheers of his fellow warriors by the time he finished his speech.
The giant of a man had been pacing back and forth like a trapped animal before finally coming to a stop before Ranta and stared deep into her eyes. And all Ranta had seen, was absolute truth in his words. Drogo had every intention on making good with his promise and with that fact evident, a slightly teary eyed Ranta raised her chin in appreciation and was mimicked by her big brother Drogo.