: The Basilisk Isles :
The mainland is primarily hostile tropical jungles. This also puts them in a great position to serve as bases for slaver raids against tribes on mainland Sothoryos, as well as against the peaceful inhabitants of Naath island located between the Basilisks and the Summer Islands farther west.
...
There are about a dozen islands in the chain of the Basilisks. The largest of these is the Isle of Tears, where many captives from raids are kept in slave pens. Another, much smaller isle is Skull Island, an uninhabited rock where pirates dump the rotting skulls of victims they have decapitated.
...
There are some settlements scattered across the Basilisks - muddy, ramshackle pirate towns where ships can hire new crews from the murderers found in every inn and tavern. Most famous of these is Port Plunder, along with others such as Sty and Whore's Gash. No maps can find these towns because they are of a temporary nature: every generation or so the Free cities expend the effort to send great fleets to the Basilisks to destroy every pirate den and hang every man they find.
Even when these expeditions succeed, by the next year a new Port Plunder will pop up again somewhere else like a mushroom. "Port Plunder" is just what the corsairs and slavers in the Basilisks happen to call whatever pirate den is the largest in the current generation. Pirate crews also often come together to trade with each other at Barter Beach.
...
The Basilisks are truly lawless, infested by the absolute worst of the world's pirates, slavers, and mercenaries - the utter dregs of humanity. Criminals and cutthroats from all lands in the world come to the isles to seek their fortune. Thus the Basilisk Isles truly are wretched hives of scum and villainy, where life is typically nasty, brutish, and short.
Ranta turned the next page of the book she was reading to see if there had been any more information to soak in but was sorely disappointed when she realized it was the end of the chapter for this certain topic. Exhaling through her nose, the woman closed the book and sat back in her chair deep in thought. The day that marked two years since Ranta arrived in Yunkai was now here, meaning her time in the yellow city was up and it was now time to make for Mereen.
But recently, Ranta couldn't ignore how her dreams had been bothering her greatly. Some nights all she seen was white, standing knee deep in a snowy field with blistering cold winds blowing against her in an effort to freeze her where she stood. No matter how loud or how long she called out for anyone to come to her aid, no one ever did. The next set of dreams she had where initially no different, except she was now standing in the ruins of an unknown castle and when she called out, she could hear the faint cries of Laemyx, Vaemarr and the three dragon brothers but she could never find them no matter how hard she looked.
The third set of dreams was drastically opposite of her first two dreams. In these dreams Ranta was standing in a field of fire, the charred ashes of human remains burying her feet as she walked. The smoke the solitary woman inhaled burned at her throat terribly and Ranta found herself covering her nose with her arm in an attempt to ventilate the air as her eyes watered from smoke irritation. Dying screams of men and women erupted from the ash corpses she made her way passed in the burning field that did no harm to her.
Though much like the snow filled dreams, she could find no living person besides herself. There were no standing buildings either, only the faint cries of her children could be heard throughout the desolate land. The following dreams had been much more chaotic than the others. Ranta had been standing in an unfamiliar city in the middle of a vicious thunderstorm with raging floods and deafening thunder claps.
Lightning bolts could be seen striking flags on top of buildings bearing the Lannister symbols. She was in Kings Landing then? An ear splitting roar filled the air, causing Ranta to look up into the stormy sky and seen the vague outlines of three large dragons all fly over head, lighting fire to something she couldn't see.
Wading through the flooded streets, Ranta turned a corner and came to an abrupt halt when something massive blocked her path. Looking up, Ranta gasped at the sight of one of her snakes stationed before her. The mighty beast stood well over the height of the buildings around them, the structures seeming like toy castles in comparison. A flash of lightning illuminated the sky enough for Ranta to see that it was Laemyx in front of her but instead of the tan eyes she was familiar with, they had been a sharp ice blue. "L-Laemyx?" Ranta stuttered to the glaring serpent.
A boom of thunder followed by lightning decorated the sky as the behemoth suddenly hissed murderously at her, hood flaring out to full capacity. Watching in horror, Ranta watched as he took a deep breath in and exhaled ice blue colored fire instead of his normal green. "NO!" she screamed as the fire grew closer and engulfed her. The woman always woke up in a cold sweat from those dreams, and she always tracked down the eggshell colored snake and grasped his muzzle in between her hands to stare him in the eyes- checking to make sure they were tan and not ice blue and made sure that he breathed green fire and not the other color from the dream.
The fourth and final set of dreams the woman had only contained a feminine voice, much to Ranta's relief. She couldn't handle many more nights of having any of those dreams. "Oh look at 'ow cute she is! Gonna grow ta be quite the 'eart breaker aren't ya, lassie? A Naylor true and through. Could make quite the decent saila too if she spends some time with good ol' cousin Tarla...The Basilisk Isles is where I be hidin' should any of ya ever need me. The books and rumors out there make it seem like everything is chaos down 'ere but it isn't that bad. Not with me runnin' things. We jus' say that to keep people away. Let yaselves be captured and yell out the word parlay to the sad sacks that get ya. By law they gotta bring ya to me unless they wanna meet a slow and agonizin' death that is. 'Til then!
Sliding the book onto the table in front of her, Ranta stood up and clambered into her bed but did not lay down as she had a habit of doing. Crawling up to her pillows, the blue haired woman sat back on her knees to look up at the two maps of Westeros and Essos hanging up on her wall over her bed. "Basilisk Isles...Basilisk Isles...Basilisk Isles... come on... where are you?" Ranta spoke to herself as she scanned over the maps, damning her ability to forget information she had just read over.
"Are you looking for something?"
The blue haired woman started and turned to see Rakharo standing in her doorway with a childish grin on his face. "Have you forgotten how to knock?" she returned with teasing in her voice before turning her attention back to the wall. Rakharo knocked on the frame of her door mockingly before strolling in casually, "You are looking at these maps pretty hard. What for?" he asked observing the maps for himself.
"I'm looking for the Basilisk Isles." she told the man honestly. A strange look over came his face at this bit of information but Rakharo pointed to the cluster of islands anyways near the bottom of the map - near Sothoryos, Naath and the Summer Isles. "The pirates of the Basilisk Isles are located here. Together they terrorize whoever dares cross into their waters or whatever lands they come across that are easy targets...why do you want to know?" the warrior questioned genuinely curious.
"Just entertaining a thought is all." Ranta moved off of the bed and looked up at the Dothraki man expectantly. "Was there something you needed?" she asked curiously. "Yes, we are about to leave." Rakharo informed her with a sad smile. Ranta hesitated at the news, a feeling of misery filling her frame at the reminder. Ranta and her men weren't the only ones departing Yunkai today, this was also the day Dany left with some other members of the Dothraki to reclaim her lost kingdom.
Attempting to lighten the mood, Ranta flashed a weak smile and began bowing dramatically as she begged for forgivness, "Oh a thousand apologies my lord, please forgive me!" she cried exaggeratingly. "Consider yourself fortunate that I am a kind, and forgiving ruler. You shall be forgiven as long as you gift to me your time." the warrior returned in a haughty tone to his voice, failing to fight the smile on his face. "Of course, my lord. Right away, my lord." Ranta continued to bow dramatically before she found lost herself in hysterics along with Rakharo.
Giving the man a playful shove, the young queen stood to her regular height and strolled out of her room - grabbing her recently favorited weapon of interest on the way out. "Do you plan to cripple me so I cannot leave?" Rakharo joked with a motion of his head towards the sharp edged war mace a local weapons merchant had gifted the blue queen a few months before.
"Possibly." Ranta grinned, twirling the weapon in her grasp expertly like Ser Barristan had taught her before sobering up as they made their way through the pyramid to get outside, "Are you sure you'll be okay? You're sure the old horde is in Vaes Dothrak as we speak?" she asked. "Yes, the old horde and the thirteen others of the Great Grass Sea." Rakharo confirmed. " And you're sure you don't want to bring any of the dragons with you?" Ranta tried.
"Yes, this is something the Khaleesi has to do on her own."
The Naylor woman sighed heavily at this but accepted it nonetheless, he had a point. The Dothraki would only follow the strong. "Have some faith in us, Little Sister." Rakharo suddenly grinned knowingly, "Just as we have faith in you." Ranta rose a hand in surrender, "I never said I didn't have any faith in you, I just worry. Is it a crime to worry when only four Dothraki members are re entering a khalasar that abandoned them with an old Khaleesi with the intentions on taking over?" Quite frankly Ranta thought she was well within reason to worry that only Rakharo, Jhogo, Irri and Doreah would be accompanying Daenerys during her journey back to Vaes Dothrak.
Daenerys had insisted that the three hundred that followed her - follow after Ranta and her group of warriors, which Ranta had a guilty pleasure about because unlike her, Dany had rallied three hundred warriors only and now Ranta could have the proper seven hundred soldiers that Daario liked to point out that she didn't have outside women and elderly.
"No, it is understandable to be worried" Rakharo granted, boyish grin still in place. "But you should still not worry so much, you are ruining that pretty face of yours" he poked at an imaginary worry line on her forehead. Ranta slapped his hand away, mouth gaping. "I don't have worry lines!" she cried loudly, forgoing the Dothraki language and used her hand to cover the supposed worry lines.
The Dothraki warrior laughed heartily at this, bringing his arms up in defense when the woman began swatting at him in retribution for his cruel joke on her and eventually took a lunge backwards when Ranta took a half hearted swing at him with her war mace. " Never joke about a woman's appearance. Especially your queen's." the blue haired woman snorted with finality though her friend continued to laugh.
"Okay, okay! I'm sorry." Rakharo caved as she ceased her attacks, "Feel better?" he asked knowingly after a moment of silence. Flashing a sad smile, the young woman nodded slowly, "I suppose so. Thank you, Rakharo." Ranta smiled warmly at her friend. Conversation flowed easily between the two somber friends as they made their way to the eastern gates Dany was to depart from, jokes and jibes thrown at each other had no real malice behind them. It was when Ranta came upon the send away party that consisted of some Unsullied guards, Missandei, Barristan, Daario and Jorah did she feel the threat of tears come upon her.
Gaining control of herself though, Ranta chased away the tears and approached the soon to be departing group. "Sharing the love I see." the young queen commented as Dany pulled out of her good bye hug with Ser Barristan, and effectively gained all the attention.
"Good morning, your grace."
"Good morning, Little Sister."
"Good morning, Ranta."
Smiling at the chorus of welcomes, the Naylorian queen bowed her head and returned the greetings. "Good morning to you all as well, or rather just morning considering I don't see much good happening at the moment." she pondered a bit jokingly. Daenerys snorted lightly and moved to hug her best friend/ sister, " I happen to think that there is quite a number of things that are good about this morning. You are leaving to expand your kingdom and I am going to reclaim mine... Daario has finally cut his hair and no longer looks like a girl." this brought a loud laugh from Ranta and the others around them, subsequently ending the hug between the duo.
Young Daenerys had spoken the truth, the head Sell sword had indeed cut his hair to a much shorter length to where it dusted along his shoulders instead of dangling way past them. 'New life, new look' the man had claimed when the others commented on his revamped appearance. "Make all the jokes you want," a playfully disgruntled Daario spoke, running a hand through his now short brown wavy locks. "But we all secretly know that I am the prettiest one here." he finished, earning laughter once more from the women in particular.
"In all seriousness though," Dany sobered, " I just figured I could either say my good byes in person or leave a note on my pillow to be found the morning after I've left." the young Targaryen looked at the older woman pointedly. Ranta pursed her lips and turned to look at Jorah from over her shoulder who flashed a sheepish smile in return. "Fair enough." the blue eyed queen granted before turning towards her Unsullied who guarded a chest at his feet.
Beckoning him forward, the soldier set aside his spear and shield and carried the chest over to his queen. "Thank you." she whispered to the man before opening the chest and bringing out one of two of her gifts she got for the violet eyed woman. The first gift she brought was a necklace with a black chain that held a red three headed dragon charm on the end of it.
Presenting it to Dany, the older woman watched with satisfaction as her friend gushed over the gift. "What is this for?" Dany asked cradling the small dragon charm carefully in her fingers. "Think of it as an apology gift for what you've just mentioned and as an early name day gift all in one." Ranta informed her. "It is beautiful, Ranta, thank you." Daenerys smiled genuinely.
"And because I am the best person in the world." Ranta moved behind Daenerys to clasp the necklace around her throat, "I have gotten you another gift as well." Ranta fixed the silvery blonde locks back over the chain and moved back to the chest to grab the final gift. Reaching in, Ranta withdrew a sturdy, elegant black and red dress with intricate designs that covered the cloth but avoided the area where faux scales had been placed over the chest area. At the base of the neck had been the Naylor house symbol woven into the design of the ultimately dragon based dress.
Ranta thought it was a clever design that represented both of their houses and was internally glad that the tailor who had fashioned the dress would be accompanying her on the trek to Mereen along with the other civilians. "I got you a dress, do you like it? I designed it myself." the young monarch presented the dress to Daenerys and the others watching as well.
"You designed this dress yourself, little sister?" Irri breathed in awe, " It is very beautiful. It is like Drogon." Doreah added in equal awe of the fabric in front of her and moved closer to get a better look at the fabric, which triggered the others to do so as well. "These aren't his real scales are they?" Daario asked carefully running his fingers over the front of the dress.
"No, the tailor I hired made them after I brought a single scale in for her to observe and work off of." Ranta informed. "She got his color scheme completely right." Missandei noted as her eyes trailed over the designs of the dress, motioning to how the tailor perfectly blended the colors in to match the eldest dragon perfectly. "This is a good material. Sturdy on the outside but silky on the inside, it's good for travel." Jorah fingered the dress.
Daenerys opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by a familiar cry echoing throughout the air. The farewell party looked up into the slightly cloudy sky and seen the familiar forms of the ever growing dragon brothers circling above, and where they were - their older brothers were never far behind. "Looks like they've come to say good byes as well." Ser Barristan noted as the trio began their descent to the ground.
However while the others were watching the dragons, Ranta kept an eye on the night and day brothers who soon came into sight as well. "Good morning boys." she greeted the duo who verbalized their own forms of greetings as she gave out her usual affections, "Ready to say bye to Dany and hit the road? One last city to free and then we will have successfully completed what we originally set out to do more than a few years ago." she informed the serpents.
Laemyx pulled his head away from her loving hand in tandem with his brother and stared deep into Ranta's eyes with his own intelligent ones. "What?" she asked the eggshell colored snake. Vaemarr hummed deeply, tongue flickering out of his mouth as he too watched his mother carefully before turning his head towards Daenerys who was now surrounded by the dragon triplets - all clambering for her attention.
Much to Ranta's relief Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal had all taken to Dany much better than they originally had when they first met the Targaryen. The violet eyed woman could often be seen with at least one of the dragons throughout the day the older they grew. " She'll be fine. We have to believe, we can't fight this battle for her." Ranta said to the duo after focusing back on one another.
The brothers didn't look too convinced but dropped the matter at hand when they none too gently ripped the dragons away from Daenerys to give their own good bye to the violet eyed Targaryen. "Rude." the blue queen commented a split second before the triplets began voicing their own complaints noisily. Cooing to the dragons, Ranta summoned them over to her side and began coddling the abused siblings, "I know, I know darlings. Your big brothers are just a bunch of brutes aren't they?" she planted a lingering kiss on Rhaegal's cheek and raking her long finger nails over the leathery skin of Viserion and Drogon.
"You will be careful on the way to Mereen won't you?" Doreah asked with a shy smile. Ranta returned the smile and nodded, grabbing the woman into a hug along with Irri and Jhogo, "Of course, I like living and if I die I rather not have the Khaleesi bring me back just to kill me all over again." the Naylor joked pulling back and lacing her fingers together in front of her.
The group lingered for a while more, conversing with each other before Daenerys finally left with her small group with the knowledge of to come to Mereen even if something went wrong and she was unable to reclaim her kingdom. Not long after the Targaryen left, it was the Naylor's turn to depart on her journey to liberate Mereen - a city that would prove to her greatest challenge yet to turn around compared to the last two cities combined according to Ser Jorah.
A fact that played on Ranta's mind terribly as the day dragged on, so badly in fact that it had cost the blue haired woman multiple painful landings on her back and behind during her training session with Ser Barristan and her war mace around lunch time. After about the dozenth time the elder Selmy knocked Ranta on her back, Jorah stepped in with a pained grimace and called for a stop.
Groaning in pain, Ranta laid spread eagle on the ground and staring up at the sky as if it held the answers to the questions she had been worrying over. The sight of the clear blue sky however, was suddenly disrupted when the two former Westerosi stepped into her line of sight with worrying expressions on their faces as they looked down at their queen.
" I haven't seen you get knocked down so many times since you first began your training with Ser Barristan, is everything alright your grace?" the Mormont asked concerned, reaching a hand out to help Ranta up. Ranta looked at his hand for a moment before sighing and taking it to pull herself back to her feet. As Ranta shook out her hair and dusted off her clothes, Barristan picked up the heavier than average weapon and handed it back to the young queen.
"I'm fine, just lost a lot of things on my mind is all. Again?" Ranta assured before looking to the Selmy expectantly. The two men exchanged glances before Ser Barristan obliged and began the training session once more. "Anything specifically on your mind that you'd like to talk about?" Barristan asked as the duo exchanged blows, him with ease and Ranta still with a bit of difficulty. He has won the most battles in single combat in history, Ranta liked to think that she was allowed some leeway when it came to sparring with the man.
Much to her guilty pleasure, the woman knew it required a great amount of strength to meet a war mace blow for blow considering the top of her weapon was weighed down by a great chunk of metal. She also knew that with every blow she parried, the recoil vibrations that went through the sword were painful and uncomfortable for Ser Barristan. The experienced combatant had no shame in admitting it and often he could be seen shaking out his aged hands to get rid of the pin prickles running through the appendages.
"No, I'm fine. Nothing to worry about." Ranta told him after jumping a step backwards to avoid a swing to her midsection. The sparing continued for another few moments before Barristan suddenly stepped back, sheathing his sword and looked at the woman pointedly. "With all due respect, your grace, I would find that much more believable if it didn't look like you haven't slept in three weeks."
Ranta looked at the other man with raised brow but clipped her own weapon against her hip in resignation nonetheless. "A few bad dreams and stress over the appending future is hardly cause for concern, my dear friend. I'll be fine, let me get over them" the young queen appealed to the elder. "Dreams often have meaning and if they are going to cause you such distress then I'm afraid I can't let this go. I think we need to talk about what's bothering you." Barristan pushed one final time.
The woman sighed heavily and crossed her arms over her chest as she thought, " Fire." she said bluntly, "Fire, snow and thunder." the more Ranta disclosed dreams, the more the brows of Ser Barristan and Jorah furrowed. "A warning then?" the Selmy suggested after a moment's thought. " Yes but a warning of what?" Jorah asked, "That the dragons will no longer be under her control and burn everything to the ground? That Laemyx will turn against her? The snow I don't know what it could mean...perhaps another Naylor is brought to light and unleashes her own fury upon the lands?"
"There is no Naylor that can conjure snow storms." Ser Barristan shot down immediately. " So you know that for fact?" Jorah shot back without missing a beat and watched at the elder man nodded his head, "Naylors that can summon snow and fire storms are legend. Not seen since the very beginning with Aegon and even then it was just a rumor." he dismissed but Jorah was having none of it. "Rumors are beginning to prove themselves more and more as plausible probabilities now a days wouldn't you say? Just look at who leads us and the beasts who follow her." he motioned towards Ranta.
"So the Basilisk Isles are as dangerous as the books say?" said woman cut into the argument innocently but soon regretted it when both men turned and looked at her incredulously. "What on earth would you need to know about the Basilisk Isles for?" Ser Barristan questioned in disbelief. "No reason." Ranta pursed her lips and abruptly turned away, making for her horse at a brisk pace without saying a word to either of them any further.
Speed walking up to the tan colored steed, the blue eyed queen placed a booted foot into a stirrup and lifted herself into the saddle with practiced ease. Clicking her tongue, Ranta got the horse to trot onwards right as the Mormont and Selmy called for her to stop and explain herself. "Walk on, the break is over and we still have a lot of ground to cover if we want to make it to Mereen soon!" Ranta now kicked her horse into a light canter and made her way towards the front of the train.
Members of the group still resting quickly got up and followed their leader and the now marching Unsullied. "Your grace!"Ser Jorah called, but Ranta would have none of it. "Sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of marching! Put in any complaints with Missandei!" the young ruler called back to her bear cub with a hint of a smile on her face. Now that it was clear to Ranta that the Basilisk Isles were something she really shouldn't be talking about with just anyone, the woman would have to re think her intentions on the near future.
The young queen may or may not have been thinking of sailing to the isles, which in truth she was, after she liberated Mereen and clearly the Selmy and Mormont had no intentions nor desire to do such a thing and now she would have to find someone else willing to go with her. The Dothraki feared them, and the Andals feared them. All that was left was to either ask her sell swords or go to her Unsullied. Though Ranta had a feeling that the sell swords would also have no intentions on sailing there, which left her with the Unsullied indefinitely.
Even if they had qualms about sailing to the infamous isles, they would not shy away from it. 'Unsullied fear nothing' according to Grey Worm and speaking of the silent and brooding captain... "Grey Worm!" Ranta called out to the man riding at the front of the train - a new change that Ranta had enforced. All of her captains and advisors would ride when ever they traveled.
"I need to speak with you." she informed him as she cantered up to his side and led him off to the side of the road and out of earshot. "You have served me for a while now, with out hesitation or complaint and I am eternally grateful for that. " Ranta began as they rode side by side. "Be that as it may, you know I would never intentionally make you do something that you weren't comfortable doing and if I ever do I want you to tell me." the young man nodded at this and continued to listen patiently.
"Now that I know that you understand that, I want you to be honest with me...If I ever needed to sail to the Basilisk Isles, would you follow me there? Genuinely. Would you have enough trust in me to keep you safe? Or would you look at me as if I had grown a second head and try to dissuade me from my endeavor?" The Naylor finished, with a flicker of hope flowing through her when the man didn't show any outward displeasure at the name of the isles but considering that this was Grey Worm - she wasn't sure if it was such a victory its self.
With a hint of confusion in his eyes, Ranta wondered if he knew where it was. "The isles are near Sothoryos, Naath and the Summer islands." she informed him in an effort to jog his memory."The Summer Islands..." he parroted as if he had misheard, a particular look to his face as he said it. "Is that your home land?" Ranta guessed and watched as he nodded his head.
"Do you want to go back?" she questioned a bit fretfully, but was relieved when she watched Grey Worm shake his head. "There is nothing for me to return to. I do not remember my home, or the people there. I just know that, that was were I was born and then stolen away... the Basilisk isle pirates like to terrorize the Summer islands" he informed her.
Ranta shifted the reigns in her hands with a furrowed brow, "That's what Rakharo told me, along with the book I read I believe. Do you want the islands to come under my protection?" the blue eyed woman tried. Grey Worm stayed silent for a while as he allowed thoughts to flow through his head, " To get your home islands under my protection, I would need to deal with the Basilisk Isles." Ranta stated to help his thoughts along,"A feat that none would bother with considering the reputation its' people have, but I would still do it for you." she assured the man.
"...Missandei is from Naath. They are terrorized far worse than my home land, the people of Naath do not believe in violence and therefore do not fight back when being invaded- it makes them easy pickings for slavers." Ranta frowned heavily at this and nodded to herself, "So do bring Naath and the Summer Islands under my protection. Got it." A troubled look came over the captain's features when she said this, " I did not mean it as command, my queen. I-" he tried but was cut off by his companion.
"I know you didn't Grey Worm, and I didn't take it as one. It is a matter of principle and morality. Now I have all the reasons I need to go to the home of those pirate bastards... plus my cousin is there. Her name is Tarla and she rules it the last I checked. My intentions are to sail there with you, Vaemarr and Laemyx at my back after we take Mereen. I need to have some words with my dear long lost cousin, and Jorah and Barristan would rather eat their own hands then follow me. I doubt Daario would be any different. But you, not many things spook you and it's why I've asked this of you. If worse comes to worse then remember that you are in the service of the Storm queen." she finished with a self satisfied smirk.
A ghost of a smirk graced her friend's lips at this and nodded his head stiffly, " I will follow you, my queen, no matter where you go. I will always be there by your side." Ranta smiled warmly at her friend and nodded her head in acknowledgement, "As I will be by yours should you ever need anything, my friend, no matter what it is." she promised.
"We leave after Mereen is yours?" Grey Worm asked for confirmation, causing his queen to nod. "Yes, after things settle and things are going relatively smoothly - we will depart and leave Mereen under the care of Jorah, Barristan and Daario. Hopefully by the time we return the city will not be burning." she joked with a laugh and was met with a slightly more noticeable smirk from the Unsullied captain.
The duo continued to ride on the side of the train, enjoying the company of one another and relative silence. It wasn't until a few minutes had passed did Ranta realize what Grey Worm had mentioned during their conversation. "Grey Worm, how do you know Missandei is from Naath?"
0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.00o.0o.o0.0o.
"Your grace!...Your grace please!"
"Stay still Missandei!"
"You must understand-!" Missandei's protest was cut off by her own squeal when Ranta suddenly stopped trying to hit her with a pillow and tackled the poor girl to the floor after she grew tired of chasing the curly haired woman around her tent. "You and Grey Worm are a thing now?!" the blue queen said incredulously as she pinned the brown eyed woman's hands above her head and sat on her stomach.
"What are you talking about?" Missandei gaped. "A couple, courting, cahooting under the cover of night, take your pick." Ranta listed off, earning a bright blush from the woman below her. "He said that?" she whispered. "No, all he said was that you were giving him lessons on the common tongue. But!" Ranta exclaimed when she saw the translator breath out a sigh of relief, " There has to be more than that going on between you two, I can hardly find you any more now a days. I remember when we used to spend time together doing hair." the queen pouted.
Still blushing, Missandei shook her head as she looked up at the blue haired woman straddling her, "I can assure you, your grace, that nothing else is happening between us during the lessons." Ranta snorted in disbelief, "Then why has he asked me to put Naath, your home land, under my protection if you were merely a teacher to him?" the woman asked knowingly.
Watching Missandei open and close her mouth but not hearing anything come out, Ranta sighed in resignation and got off the other woman, holding out a hand to help her up. Taking her hand, Missandei stood up and brushed herself off before lacing her fingers together in front of her and looked down in shame. "I do not know your grace, but please pay no attention to his request. I know it is no where near your agenda nor beneficiary to your cause. It would be a waste of time and effort."
Ranta tilted her head at this and looked at the translator carefully. "Why?" she asked much to Missandei's confusion. Picking her head up, the other woman looked to her queen with a furrowed brow, " Why, your grace?" Ranta nodded her head, "Yes, why. Why would you say that about your own home land? Wouldn't you ever like to go home, after all this is over?" the blue haired woman questioned.
"Naath is my home land." Missandei acknowledged, " But I don't remember it. All I remember is how tall the trees were and how the beaches were so white as the slavers rowed us away from the island. After being away for so long, I don't think I would ever feel at home again if I were to go say that home is where you feel safe, it is where you feel like you belong. Home is where the heart is but the heart is where your friends are...and I have friends here with you."
Ranta's expression softened at this and smiled warmly at her friend, "As sweet as that was, I want you to know that Naath will be coming under my protection any ways. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow but it will be before my final day comes. I can promise you that, besides I think it would be fun to visit the island you are from." Missandei smiled at this but shifted her weight from side to side.
"If that is what you wish, your grace...but I must tell you that you cannot stay on Naath for longer than a few hours at a time." she warned the Naylor who then looked at her confused, "On the island there are many butterflies, beautiful in color but deadly to outsiders. They carry diseases that foreign visitors are vulnerable too, we call it the butterfly fever - and it melts the skin off of your bones. If you stay on Naath for too long you will contract the disease and die within days. Those native to the island are immune to it and therefore have no need to create a cure for this, it is also why slavers hit the island fast and efficiently so they can leave before becoming sick."
With raised brows, Ranta threw her hands up in surrender and took a joking step backwards away from her translator. " I didn't want to go there for more than a few hours anyways, I rather like my skin on my bones...is there anything else Naath is known for? Besides its' incredibly deadly butterflies." Ranta waved a hand in the air flippantly. Missandei took a moment to think about her old home, " The people of Naath are very musically-inclined, they are pacifists, and used to be a major source of silk but with the slavers constantly burning down and raiding villages, Naath cannot export goods anymore...I am afraid that's all I know."
"What about the Summer Islands? Do you know anything about them?"
"...People from the Summer Islands like to wear colorful clothes with tropical bird feathers in them. They are famed sea-farers, the islands are rich in natural resources like spices, gemstones, hardwood timber, and exotic animals. Their merchant fleet operates across much of the known world and are also well known as skilled archers, their bows far outrange similar weapons from Westeros and the ship crews use archers to drive off pirates and raiders at long range, before they can attempt to board them." Missandei informed her queen.
"So talented sailing archers and musical silk specialists is what I am dealing with here." Ranta summarized before nodding to herself, making sure to lock the information given to her in the vault of her mind. "Was there anything else you needed of me, your grace?" Missandei asked but Ranta shook her head and waved her hand. "No, you are free to go and continue your...'lessons' with Grey Worm." the woman grinned wolfishly much to the chagrin of Missandei. Another blush graced the translator's cheeks and she opened her mouth to protest but thought better of it and closed her mouth, bowed her head and whisked her way out of the tent.
Snorting in amusement, Ranta rolled her eyes and made for her chest filled with clothes. Digging through article of clothing after article of clothing, she finally pulled out a pale yellow shirt she had nicked from Ser Jorah and threw it on after taking off the dress she traveled in today. Seeing as the Mormont was a much bigger person than her in physique, Ranta had to tuck in the baggy shirt into her trousers that hid under her dress and then put on one of her tighter fitting vests so she wouldn't end up accidentally giving someone quite the show to see if the wind so happened to blow a certain way.
Grabbing a leather hair tie, Ranta made her way out of her tent through the back exit and made her way out into the tall grass - promising the two Unsullied guards that now watched the back entrance that she would be back in the morning and that she just needed some time to think by herself. With nothing but the sound of the crickets chirping and the swishing grass that ghosted by as the young queen walked, things were relatively calm under the starry night time sky as she tied up her hair.
Ranta only traveled a few more minutes out until she stopped walking when she came upon the sight of her children laying grouped together in a circle, dozing. "Viserion" she whispered to the green colored dragon laying heavily on Rhaegal but when he heard his name being called, he lazily rose his head and gave a toothy grin as a greeting. Smiling back, Ranta motioned for him to follow before turning and walking away. Rising to his feet a bit shakily, the green dragon did as told and followed after Ranta at a brisk pace.
The duo didn't travel very far until they came to a stop once more, perhaps a few leagues away from the dozing group of creatures. Turning to the dragon, she greeted her green eyed beauty with warmth," Are you ready for another session, darling?" she scratched under his chin and earning a purring like sound in return. For being only a few years old, all three of the dragons were much bigger now - no longer did Ranta have to bend or stoop down to their level, she now had to look up at them to meet them eye to eye.
Viserion let out a low moan as he pulled away from her fingers, turning to offer his back to her. Using his back leg as support, Ranta climbed up onto his back and settled herself in between his wing joints - grasping at his spikes on his neck as an anchor to stay atop his back. "Fly." she whispered to the dragon, once she was settled and had a good grasp on him.
Giving himself a shake, Viserion let out a small roar and began charging forwards - flapping his wings to help get the wind under his feet as he ran. Once he was satisfied with the amount of speed he gained, Viserion pushed hard against the ground and lunged into the air successfully. Ranta's stomach all but dropped once the dragon was air born but that was nothing new and she usually ignored it once the feeling of euphoria filled her frame the higher Viserion climbed into the air. The green dragon leveled out at a respectable height in the sky and flew in no specific direction, gliding left or right depending on which way Ranta gave a tug to his spikes in her hands.
Flying lessons with Ranta on their backs had begun with all three dragons a little more than six months ago and the trio did very well in their training. Ranta figured that if she were to eventually ride one of them into battle then they would have to be ready as best as they possibly could. Looking down and noticing that they had managed to find themselves over a body of water, Ranta gave a tug of the spikes towards her- signaling Viserion to begin climbing straight up into the air instead of at an angle as he usually did.
Tightening her grasp greatly, Ranta pressed herself down as close as she could get to the dragon and squeezed her legs into his body to help keep herself attached to him. It was an awkward maneuver for him to do with her on his back but it worked out fine. After they were high in the clouds, Viserion stopped his climb and then leveled out to give Ranta a moment to adjust.
Shifting her weight from side to side, the duo worked on high speed twists, turns, spins, and summer saults with subtle hand cues for the next few hours - all of which gave Rhaegal's passenger a few mini heart attacks but Ranta was overall very satisfied with how they were doing so far. After a few hours, she deemed it was around time to return back to work on the same exercises with Rhaegal and Drogon and voiced as much to Viserion who obliged and glided back towards camp.
When their temporary home came into sight, Viserion made a rapid but steady descent to the ground - the sound of his approaching wing beats against the air roused Rhaegal from his slumber. The tan dragon voiced a sleepy greeting as his younger brother landed and remained still as Ranta clambered off of his back, "Up you get Rhaegal. Let's go for a ride, sweet heart." the blue haired woman beckoned the dragon.
Rhaegal yawned and gave himself a shake like Viserion had when he was woken up and stood to his feet with a bit of hesitation. "It's only for a few hours, darling. Then you can go back to sleep." Ranta stroked his neck lovingly before mounting his back with practiced ease. Settling herself between his wing joints, Ranta clicked her tongue and spurred the tan eyed dragon into action.
With each dragon, Ranta had been incorporating a few different cues here and there - the tongue clicking for one example. With Rhaegal being bigger than Viserion, Ranta had more room to work with when it came to hand and feet placement on his body. It was also much easier for him to get into the air with Ranta on his back thanks to the increased muscle mass and wing span.
"Okay, Rhaegal." the young woman began as they glided through the sky with ease, " Let's try your dive bombing exercise once before going to our usual evasive maneuvers, yeah?" she asked, giving a pull upwards to one of his spikes. The tan dragon let out a low moan of approval and began climbing into the air obediently. Once they were high enough in the sky to the point where Ranta could hardly see the ground any more, Rhaegal stalled and let himself go into a controlled fall - wings only a quarter of the way extended out to use as balance.
Wind whipped at Ranta's face wildly as the duo dove towards the ground, resulting in Ranta having to tuck her head into her chest more to block out some of the wind from hitting her face. After falling for a set amount of time Rhaegal suddenly let loose a fire blast into the water below as if it were an actual target and snapped his wings out in a smooth motion, soaring back into the air with a great amount of speed that visibly disturbed the water outside of the fire ball impact.
On the climb upwards, the duo went through a series of spins and twists with ease. However when they had been coming out of a particular spin, something heavy knocked into Ranta's side and sent her plummeting off Rhaegal's back with a loud gasp of surprise. The young queen's heart leapt into her throat as the feeling of falling filled her frame and Rhaegal's figure grew further and further away.
"RHAEGAL!" Ranta screamed in terror. The dragon's head snapped around at the cry and let out his own cry of distress at the sight of his mother no longer on his back and currently falling to her death. Scrambling in the air, he turned himself around and locked his wings to his sides, diving for Ranta as fast as he possibly could. The young dragon actually raced past Ranta's falling form and maneuvered himself directly under the young woman before extending his wings out and allowing the wind to jerk him upwards and catch the woman.
Ranta grunted when she felt her back meet Rhaegal's and internally thanked the gods for her son as she attempted to calm her racing heart. Slowly turning herself over and grasping Rhaegal's spikes once more, the Naylor was able to see that the tan dragon was making a slow but steady descent towards the ground. Ranta was fine with this but what she wasn't fine with was what rammed into her side in the first place, the area they flew around had been clear - her men patrolled it. It had to be clear. Another thing that Ranta wasn't okay with, was the sound of a large bang going off before the sound of something hurtling through the air soon followed.
Turning, another gasp escaped past Ranta's lips when she seen some kind of net come flying towards her with intentions to capture its target. "Dive!" the woman cried, the net just skirting past Ranta's head as the dragon did as commanded. More banging noises sounded off from multiple directions and soon Rhaegal found himself dodging nets left and right, all the while trying to keep his mother from being captured herself by the very same nets that plagued him.
No matter how many nets they dodged...no matter how many dives, twist and turns they did to remain free - more just seemed to keep coming by the handful and at a faster pace than the last. Much to Ranta's horror, their luck had run out and she found herself not only covered with a net, but taking a blow to the head that immediately made her see black spots.
As her consciousness began slipping from her grasp, Ranta was aware of how she had slipped from the back of Rhaegal and was currently free falling towards the body of water below. She was also able to see the sight of a struggling Rhaegal letting out a fearsome yet desperate roar as he tried to light fire to the contraption that locked his wings to his sides and sent him careening to the earth below instead of water.
"Rhae...gal..." she whispered before everything went black and her body hit the water with a sickening crack that echoed through the air along with the sound of Rhaegal's body hitting the ground hard and multiple trees being split in half by the force of the immobile dragon followed by a weak roar.