Brace for the Storm(ON HOLD)

by LikeAnEcho

Through the ages Naylors have backed the Targaryens, but when the Mad King flies into a rage too great- they scattered. Only one Naylor was left in Targaryen care and now that years have passed the roles have switched. The lone Khaleesi backs the Naylor and they are bringing a fury so great to the shores of Westeros that their enemies can't hope to stand against the Storm. JonXoc

10. Chapter 10

"We cannot storm the gates, it is too risky. Under the command of Daario Naharis and Cerran Greengood will Second son squadrons be deployed to take out the watch posts along the western wall first and then move onto the others. One battalion for each tower. Once you get the watchtowers captured, specifically the western ones, then Grey worm and I will take a number of Unsullied with us disguised as slaves to infiltrate the city walls via sewer system and try to sway any undecided slaves on our side. Jorah Barristan and Missandei will remain behind to keep an eye on things"

Why the Naylor had opened her mouth and volunteered herself to subject herself to traveling through a sewer passage way, Ranta would never know. "Always have to go above and beyond, don't you Ranta?" The queen mumbled to herself lowly as she traveled side by side with the Unsullied squadron wading through the deep river waters that ran just outside of the city walls on the western shore. " Couldn't just make your speech your lasting impression on the slaves, could you? Noooo, instead you had to open your mouth again and now you are about to travel through the sewers. Well done."

Stumbling onto the shore with a heavy satchel on her back, the queen was graced with the sight of the slave pen along with the rest of her men. "Okay, there's the slave pen...How do we get in?" Ranta questioned with a small pant. " We can force the door open, there is a pulley system White Rat will pull to help lift the door." Grey Worm explained and earned a nod in understanding before leading the charge up to the iron barred gate keeping everything on the inside in and everything on the outside out.

Once at the wall, White Rat began pulling on the pulley system made of stone and rope hanging besides the gate as Grey Worm grabbed the bottom of the iron bars and began pulling upwards, grunting with effort. Ranta sprang into action and helped the man lift the gate that groaned in protest at the forcible opening. Jamming the gate into place, Grey Worm nodded to White Rat and then motioned with his head for his queen and brothers in arms to follow him into the darkness.

The smell of the sewer was bad but tolerable, it could have been worse and as long as the young Naylor didn't cross any rats living down there then she would be fine. "My queen," Grey Worm called to the blue haired woman, "Your torch." the young man requested, holding his fire starting kit in hand. "Oh, thank you." Ranta dug out the torch and handed it over to the Unsullied captain who placed it on the ground before striking a flint with his blade and sent sparks flying - successfully lighting the torch ablaze.

"How do you know where they are?" Ranta asked taking her torch and using its flame to light the others belonging to other members of the group. "Slave pens are not complicated," White Rat answered for Grey Worm, appearing by the blue eyed woman's side to get his own torch brought to life, "they do not have multiple rooms for the slaves - only one that they share with each other. We will find them if we keep going forward." he assured before taking the lead of the group. Wading through a few dozen leagues of sewer water, ascending up a few stairs, and whisking their way through the cavernous halls of the slave pen - the disguised infiltration group made good timing with finding their way through and soon they were able to hear voices up ahead along with the crackle of a fire.

Slowing their pace down to a stealthy walk after turning another corner, White Rat, Ranta and Grey Worm were able to see their destination right in front of them a few minutes later. "You heard her!" a young slave cried to his bretheren gathered around him and a small fire in the center of their living quarters, "She said she came to free us!" An older slave sitting on the stone cold floor however scoffed at the boy's optimisum, "You are a fool, Mossador, the masters are too strong." he dismissed. "She will protect us." Mossador said with steely eyes, "You seen for yourself that she did not send out a champion...she sent herself! She took up arms and defeated the masters' champion for us, for us!" he motioned to the occupants of the room with his arms pointedly.

Murmurs of agreement started flowing to the room at the man's point, why would this foreign queen put her life on the line if she had other motives than to free them? Growing confident that more people were seeing his reasoning, Mossador continued after squatting down to adress the elder slave. "Her army is great, they could easily mow the city guards and masters over. Do you really want to live the rest of your life in chains, Aelar?"

"I want to live!" another elder - Vivor barked, gaining the attention of the room, "Did you not see what they did to those children? What do you think the masters will do to us if they even get the feeling of us wanting to revolt?" he questioned. "There have been two revolts in my life time, young one," Aelar added on, " Both of them failed, those who were involved were killed and the masters were still in power. Nothing ever changes with revolts, only the number of deaths." he finished with a shake of his head - none noticing the new guests that had arrived and were standing in the doorway.

"Ah but all men must die, yes?" a feminine voice asked coyly, causing all of the slaves to turn collectively towards the enterance and gape at the sight. Standing in the doorway with men at her back was the foreign queen herself disguised as a slave like her men. Mossador scrambled to his feet and openly stared at the woman in awe and admiration with the rest of the occupants of the room.

Ranta smiled kindly at the gaping faces and pulled down her hood used to hide her hair before walking further into the room - slaves that were sitting on the floor quickly scattered to make a path for the monarch and her trailing guards all carrying satchels over their shoulders. "I can promise you that a single day of freedom is worth more than a lifetime of chains." Ranta continued on, motioning to Grey Worm close on her tail.

"This is my friend and one of my most trusted captains, Grey Worm. The former masters of Astapor took him from the Summer Isles when he was a baby and trained him to be Unsullied, but now he fights for me." the man in question nodded his head to confirm what his queen said. "Unsullied?" Aelar questioned, much to Ranta's relief because she really was hoping that she wouldn't run into any more people who could not understand her. What kind of queen was she if she could not even communicate with her people?

"He was taught to fight before he could walk." throwing an arm out he motioned to his fellow slaves, "We are not soldiers, we cannot fight. We don't even have weapons, no training." at this, Ranta smirked knowingly. With all eyes on her, the woman walked deeper into the slave pen and moved the satchel from over her shoulders and onto the floor, metal audibly clanking together from the inside as the woman stepped away from the bag so the collared men could look into it.

The other Unsullied in the room followed suit and dispersed, dropping off their satchels in random spots for the slaves to peer into as well. "Gentlemen, the city is mine." the Naylor walked back over to the fire and held her hands over it to warm her fingers. "My Second son units have taken out the watch posts on this side of the city, the others are falling as we speak. I leave the fate of the masters in your hands, any masters left alive are to be brought to me so I can determine their fate." Ranta turned to Grey Worm and looked the man dead in the eye, " The masters who crucified those children are not to see daylight. End them before returning to me." the woman ordered eerily calm.

"As you command, my queen." Grey Worm replied with ease. Turning back to the slaves circling the young woman, Ranta continued, " And as for training, I am always accepting soldiers into my ranks. I'm sure you could find someone amongst the Second Sons, Dothraki or Unsullied soldiers to train you... Now, I will take my leave because quite frankly I feel something slimy in between my toes and its rather concerning. I need a bath. I trust I will see you all in the morning, gathered in the city square before the great pyramid?" with a quirked brow and smile towards Mossador - the man quickly nodded his head in agreement much to her amusement. Chuckling, Ranta turned and left the slave pen with a handful of Unsullied men, throwing well wishes over her shoulder as the woman departed.

"There are three slaves in this city for every master, now is the time to strike." Grey Worm spoke moments after his queen had departed, "If you want your freedom, my brothers, then you must take it for yourselves."

0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0.

"Missandei this dress is complicated!" Ranta pouted, struggling with the multilayered sleeves the dress had and flailing her stuck arm uselessly as she wandered around her new room in the great pyramid aimlessly, having already marched her army through the city gates at dawn. Whatever city guards that had not yet been dealt with quickly bent the knee and surrendered to their new queen.

The translator turned away from the mirror she was using to make sure her own dress was aligned correctly and couldn't help the tinkering laugh that escaped past her lips at the sight of her queen. "Is the dress complicated or do you just not know how to put on a dress?" Missandei mused playfully.

"Both!"

The brunette openly laughed now and walked over to help her queen struggling with her dress. It was a very beautiful dress, in Missandei's opinion, and in the opinion of many others. The pure white dress was sleeveless, and graced with sparkling golden patterns and designs. The cloth hugged the young queen's frame tightly, exposing her chest area and had specially designed attachable sleeves that did not cover her upper arms, but began at her elbows and trailed down to the ground in three different layers.

Ranta's problem now was that her fingers kept getting stuck in the different layers as she tried to put on the detachable sleeves. Tugging the sleeves off of Ranta's arms, Missandei helped her queen and friend put on the sleeves without getting her fingers stuck with ease much to Ranta's embarrassment. "Your grace, are you ready?" Ser Barristan called from outside of her room.

"You can come inside, Barristan. I'm dressed." Ranta called to the elder, taking a seat on the nearest chair so Missandei could finish doing her hair. Using the mirror's reflection, Ranta was able to watch the Selmy walk in, smiling fondly as he took in the sight of the young woman. "You look as beautiful as ever your grace." The man complimented, earning a bashful smile from his queen.

"Thank you, you look very nice yourself. Would you happen to be looking for a future lady Selmy?" Ranta asked slyly, referring to the way the man had been rather cleaned up nicely. Ser Barristan chuckled at this, " Oh my dear I'm afraid my days of endeavoring for a lady Selmy are long gone now." he rested his hands on his belt. "Nonsense you are quite the catch, in the prime of your youth." Ranta waved a hand dismissively jokingly.

Barristan snorted amused and pulled up a chair besides his queen, "You know Rhaegar used to say the same thing." he said as a matter of fact. At the mention of her elder adoptive brother, Ranta froze slightly, "He did?" she asked softly. "Mhm" the old warrior nodded knowingly, " So many times he would drag me down from the Red Keep and into the streets of Kings Landing. Together we would go out amongst the people and serenade them, particularly the women just so your brother could spite me."

Ranta couldn't fight the confused look that crossed her face, nor the smile from creeping onto her lips. "I don't remember that...you did not sing to the people." she then denied. "We did, I promise you." Ser Barristan laughed, "Rhaegar would pick a spot in the streets, post me by his side and then we'd sing. Him singing his heart out and me providing back up all the while making sure no one killed him and collecting money."

"Collecting money..."

"Well he loved to see how much he could make." Barristan offered as an explanation, "He was good?" Missandei asked, enjoying the story as well. "Oh he was very good." he nodded to the brunette, "He loved singing, reading, playing the harp" the Selmy listed off. "Now that I remember," Ranta spoke up at the mention of the instrument, "It didn't happen as often as I would've liked, but I do remember he would come into my room maybe about two or three times a month and play the harp just for me when everyone was asleep." she reminisced fondly.

"He hated killing though." Ranta added after a moment's thought, smile disappearing. "That he did." her fellow blue eyed companion agreed with his own solemn nod. Sensing the saddened mood, Missandei took it upon herself to try and at least pick it back up. "With the money you and Rhaegar collected...what did you do with it?" she asked, shoving hair clips into Ranta's long wavy hair.

Smiling to himself, Ser Barristan ran his thumb over a callused knuckle, "Well one time he merely gave it to the next singer down the street, another time he donated it to an orphanage in Flea bottom, of course there was the time we got horribly drunk." the trio broke out into laughter at this, " and then of course there was the time he got you a gift for your name day." Barristan looked to Ranta carefully.

"I still have it you know..." Ranta said after a moment of silence, "Rhaegar's gift." she then stood, not caring wither or not Missandei was done with her hair and walked over to a small jewelry box she hadn't looked in for years placed on her bedside table. Pulling open the last drawer, the young woman was greeted with the familiar sight of the glittering prize hidden within.

Lifting it into the light, the woman turned around to reveal a short gemstone locket designed after house Naylor's symbol made of the red rubies of Rhaegar's original armor set before he went and had more placed in it. "He said that with these rubies, he would always be with me. No matter how far apart we are..." she trailed apart before clipping it around her neck.

"I never could really wear it after the rebellion began, it stood out too much, and it just fell to the back of my mind but now that you've reminded me of it..." Ranta shrugged carelessly, "Thank you for reminding me of this." she nodded to the blue eyed man before taking a seat once more so Missandei could put the finishing touches in her hair. Ser Barristan smiled fondly as he observed the locket, "He was so excited that day to give that to you, yet so worried. He was scared you wouldn't like it, a storm filled with Targaryen fire but in reality-"

"It was the best gift I could of ever gotten."

The young Naylor made a mental note to make it up to her deceased brother by wearing his gift from now on, the woman felt like she would need him now more than ever the closer she got to making her way to Westeros. With a gentle tap to her shoulders, Missandei signaled that she was finished styling the long blue locks of hair after twisting the last piece of hair into a braid and pinned it back.

"Well," Ranta sighed heavily and stood up once more, "I do believe we have a city to meet. Shall we?" and with that the woman whisked her way out of the room Barristan and Missandei on her heels. Traveling through the great pyramid was a journey itself, Ranta found, though she should of gotten a hint from the name of the pyramid alone. How Missandei and Ser Barristan had memorized their way through the grand structure already, Ranta had no idea. She had lost count of how many turns they had taken since leaving her room, don't get her started on the amount of stairs it took to climb just to get to her room at the peak of the grand structure and vice versa to get to the bottom.

Cheering from outside the pyramid could be heard before Ranta and her escort made it outside, causing a gentle smile to grace the queen's lips at this. And when the blue queen finally did emerge at the base of the triangular structure, the woman was greeted with even louder cheers curtesy of the former slaves before her being kept at bay with the Unsullied battalion forming a barrier between her and the crowd.

"They've been eagerly awaiting for your arrival for quite some time now." Ser Jorah mused appearing by her side with a smile, having been waiting for his queen to emerge by the pyramid entrance. "There are more gathered before the city square, waiting for you to appear at it's pyramid." he informed her, holding out an arm for her to take. "Then let's not keep them waiting any longer." Ranta took his arm and allowed him to lead her past her man made blockade and within reaching distance of her new subjects.

"Mhysa!"

"Mhysa!"

"Mhysa!"

The former slaves of all ages cheered merrily and as long as the could muster, waving their slave collars in the air or dumping them at Ranta's feet. "According to Daario," Jorah spoke as they walked, " a majority of the city guards the Second Sons crossed, surrendered when being confronted. The masters the former slaves and Unsullied rounded up for your judgement are awaiting you in the square." a group of children had taken to walking with the Mormont and Naylor, practically leaping with joy as they chanted her name.

Ranta nodded satisfied with this news but at the sight of distress in her friend's eye, the woman knew something was wrong. "What is bothering you Jorah, from what you told me, all should be well." she noted. The man opened his mouth to explain himself but then his eyes landed on the locket around her neck and closed his mouth with a frown. "We are friends Jorah, very good friends, you know you can tell me anything, don't you?" she asked concerned, the crowd's chanting fading into the background as she looked up at the taller man.

The palpable distraught in Jorah's eyes caused Ranta's heart to twinge in pain, what could be causing him so much distress on such a happy day? "Perhaps it would be best if we spoke of the matter in private later, once you get the city's renovations going." he suggested instead. "You're not sick are you?" Ranta fretted, looking him up and down for visible signs of an illness. "No, no, I'm not sick." Jorah reassured his female companion.

"Are you unhappy being here? Serving me?" The young Naylor all but whispered as she voiced her secret fear that could end up having Jorah leave her side. "No!" Jorah caught himself from being too loud with his protest, inadvertently drawing them to a stop but soon got them walking again. " No, never, my queen. I just...I- ...I think it would just be best if we speak in private at a later date." the former knight finally settled on.

Internally, Ranta was no where near satisfied with this, but chose to respect his decision on when to speak and therefore nodded in agreement. "Very well, later then, but you will be telling me what is playing on your conscious Ser Jorah Mormont." the exotic woman stated with no room for argument.

"Mhysa!"

"Mhysa!"

"Mhysa!"

Plastering a smile on her face for the crowd's sake, now in the city square, Ranta waved and nodded her head to the people she passed - squeezing through the Unsullied guards that stood at the base of the stairs of the square pyramid and climbed up to the platform where she could see more Unsullied soldiers standing guard with Daario. "Took you long enough, did you travel all the way back to Yunkai and Astapor before coming up here?" Daario asked with his signature smirk as he moved up beside her once the woman and her posse filled into their respective positions.

The man's comment earned himself a real smile in return from the queen as she continued to wave to the crowd before her. "Forgive me, Daario, but not everyone can just wake up and look as good as you do every morning." the woman returned. "It is a blessing and a curse. Not everyone can handle it." the second son captain ran a hand over his beard with a cocky smile, Ranta snorted at this and shook her head in exasperation.

Scanning her eyes over the people gathered for her, the Naylor's eyes inevitably fell upon the remaining masters of the city being separated from the former slaves by Unsullied, Dothraki and Second sons alike. "Apparently, not all were cruel." Daario drolled, seeing where her gaze had fallen, " Some of the masters employed their slaves as child raisers, educators, house cleaners. Never cracked a whip against their backs but still put a collar around their necks."

"So these are the 'kind' masters then." Ranta said, doubt visible in her tone. "Well some of them. Those who were rounded up and brought here first anyways, clearly your now freed men must believe that there is something redeemable about their old masters to not kill them in their sleep like the others did." the brunette scratched his cheek. The young woman sighed heavily at this, "We will see. Actions speak louder than words." unknowingly to either of the two conversing, Jorah had been watching and listening to their conversation intently - an indescribable look to his eye.

Ranta was about to continue the conversation, but a sudden hush fell upon the crowd, much to her confusion. "For those of you who do not know," Ohhh Missandei, what if she had no intentions on speaking? What if she just wanted to smile and wave to her subjects to her little heart's content? "You all stand in the presence of Lady Ranta of House Naylor, the first of her name, the Storm queen, queen of Mereen, queen of the Andals and First Men, queen of the Unsullied, Little Sister of the Dothraki, the Liberator of Slaver's Bay, and the mother of beasts." the translator had then stepped back with a bowed head, allowing her leader to take the floor.

Releasing a calming breath, Ranta stepped forward as much as the platform would allow. "Welcome. Welcome to a new age, an age of freedom that Slaver's Bay has not known in centuries. Welcome to the age of the Storm Queen." the crowd's roar was deafening, if the crowd closer to the great pyramid were cheering as well Ranta wouldn't be surprised. Raising a finger to her lips experimentally, her subjects fell into a hush once more in an impressively timely manner.

"Your journeys have been long and hard, and now it is time we put the past behind us and move forward. Together we are moving towards a better future, a better world. Like I have done for Astapor and Yunkai, Mereen will be redesigned. All symbols of slavery will be destroyed; those who would like to help will report to Ser Barristan and Daario Naharis for job distributions and directions." Ranta motioned to the two men mentioned.

" Housing districts will be reassigned, and the marketing system will be re-established by myself and my translator Missandei, so all can make their fortune with their skills and talents as they see fit in our new world. Any questions, or concerns can be taken in the audience chamber of the great pyramid where we will discuss ways to address the problem at hand. I look forward to working with you all in the years to come...oh, and the city's redesigning can begin by tearing down those slave posts." Ranta finished with a nod towards the offending items down below the crowd stood around before turning to her advisors and signaling them to gather.

"I want the slaves who spared their masters brought to me, I need to know their plea." Ranta spoke over the noise of the former slaves working together to do as she commanded. " I want the streets watched and patrolled for any signs of unhappy citizens and those harpies torn down around the city but I will take care of the harpies atop the pyramids, I can fly the dragons above and tear them down. As for the stone harpies at the city gates...they can stay for now, I'll get to it when I can. You have been to Mereen, yes?" Ranta asked turning to Missandei.

"Multiple times, your grace." The curly haired woman nodded , "From what I have seen so far, the city has not changed. It won't be much of a challenge to reassign housing." Ranta nodded satisfied with this and turned towards Daario and Barristan, "You can handle leading the work distribution?" She asked for clarification. "Yes, your grace, the people are eager enough-it shouldn't be too hard at all. Though a firm and feminine touch may be needed near the end." Ser Barristan finished with a knowing smile.

"Well of course, I don't need brothels or bars popping up at every corner if I leave you alone with Daario and those puppy dog eyes of his." Ranta granted before turning to Grey Worm, "How you wish to divide your men in between the patrols and those who help with the redesigning, I do not know, but I do know that I want half patrolling the streets as the other half works on the city. They can switch routines every two weeks, the Second sons will be working with this schedule as well and the Dothraki will be patrolling outside the city, and checking on Astapor and Yunkai to make sure everything is holding up well in my absence ." Ranta nodded to a few of the horse warriors standing guard near by. "Is everyone clear on what to do? Any questions?" Ranta asked, scanning for any signs of uncertainty on what to do.

Seeing none, the woman nodded her head satisfactory and waved them off, "Good, off you go then. We have a lot of work to do with Mereen." she dismissed. "Your grace." the group chorused before leaving to do as instructed but right as Jorah tried to sneak away as well, Ranta quickly grabbed him by his arm before he could slink away. "Not you," she shook her head, "Wait a moment." and then turned to the Dothraki on the platform with her.

"What are your names, my friends?" Ranta asked curiously, "I am Temmo," a man with green eyes spoke first, " and he is Chakko, Little Sister." he nodded to his friend. "Temmo and Chakko," Ranta committed the names to memory, " I want you both to round up the eligible Dothraki screamers and have them patrol around the city, make sure nothing suspicious is going outside our walls while all but a few of our entire forces are focused on working inside of the city instead of our borders. Depending on how fast renovations go, is how long they need to patrol for. I also need you to send men out to play spy for me, go back to Astapor and Yunkai and make sure the people there are obeying my laws while I am gone. Listen for any whispers of rebellion or betrayals and report back if you do, if you're feeling generous then you'll bring me the person who is plotting against us ...Will you do this for me?" the young queen asked hopefully.

The duo nodded, dipping their heads in respect before departing with their brethren - leaving Ranta with Jorah much to the man's concern. "You act as if I'm going to put your head on a chopping block, relax." Ranta assured him, lacing their arms together, " I just want to take a walk around the city." and walk they did. The duo strolled through every nook and cranny Mereen had to offer. Every fighting pit, pyramid, merchant stall, ship port, slum district and brothel came under scrutiny of the Mormont and Naylor who were both internalizing how such things would be changed in the time to come.

The sun had well sunk below the horizon by the time the two friends came across their umpteenth brothel, and quite frankly Ranta didn't understand what the whole craze was about . "So people go in there to sleep with strangers?"Ranta stated more than asked, slowing her pace down as they passed the establishment. Jorah, who had no intentions on slowing down near such a place, gave an experimental tug on his queen's arm to prompt her to pick the pace back up, to no avail.

"Aye, they have to pay of course but that is the main idea." he nodded. "Can we go in?" Ranta asked curiously with a tilt of her head without taking her eyes off of the building, it was awful loud in there and filled with laughter. What could be so funny about strangers having paid sex with each other? Jorah choked on the spit in his mouth and looked at the young woman incredulously, a very uncomfortable look upon his face.

"Whatever for?"

Ranta looked up at her male companion innocently, "I've never been in a brothel before, I want to go in and see what happens in there...outside of impure activities behind closed doors." The Mormont shifted uneasily "My queen I really don't think it would be wise if we went inside." Jorah insisted. "Why? What are you scared of in there?" the woman questioned. "It's not so much that I am scared of what I will see in there, it's that I'm scared of what you'll see." he informed her.

"Liikkee?"

"Do you really want to see cheap copies of yourself walking around and throwing themselves onto men for a few coin?" he quirked a brow. "People are dressing like me?" Ranta echoed lost. "Aye, the people have never seen anyone with features like yours. The men here are used to seeing the same women over and over, but then you came and changed everything. You are new, different, exotic and not to mention the new Queen of Mereen, the Liberator of Slavor's Bay...I reckon they're paying a hefty price to the girl who looks the most like you." he mused.

The Naylor digested this information for a moment before grabbing a piece of her hair and looking up at him expectantly. "Well the rare blondes here and there can stain their hair with the paste from berries and maybe it'll take, though I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out more green than blue….they could try blue ink as well but I do not think they would be that desper-" Jorah cut himself off, pondered over the suggestion for a moment longer then nodded, "Well some may be that desperate." he admitted, "Would you still like to see for yourself?" he motioned to the door invitingly.

The woman scrunched her face up in distaste and shook her head, "No not anymore. Why you suggested such a thing in the first place, I have no idea." Ranta took the lead and began their brisk pace back to the pyramid, Jorah's chuckles tickling her ears.

0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.o0.0o.

The noble families keeping their family pyramids. Check. Slave pens sealed off. Check. Whipping posts torn down. Check. The smaller pyramids that simply stood as places for rendezvous points for the old city guards all turned into housing units for the families of lower class. Check. The lesser known fighting pit areas turned into recreational areas with fountains where the pits once stood. Check. Golden harpies torn down. Check. The marketing system re established for all to participate in. Check. Long and seemingly endless meetings and discussions during the reconstruction with the Storm Queen's advisors. Check.

Equal length meetings occurring in the audience chamber with Ranta's new subjects but about different issues. Double check. It had been a long day for the young queen, a long handful of months if she was to be truthful of herself. Though the former masters had agreed to live under her care and rule, they had not made it easy on her during the revamping of the city. They fought tooth and nail, respectably of course, when it came to harpies being torn off of their homes and off of other buildings alike by Ranta's dragons. Nor had they come to love the fact that their fighting pits had been demolished one by one except for a select few.

Tradition they claimed, the harpies are apart of Mereen's traditions and they believed they had a right to reserve what traditions they could during the new era. "I understand perfectly of what you are speaking about, but traditions change and so do people. It is time you understood that...however I suppose I also understand that too much change is not always for the better. If you can find someone to make it willingly, and adhere to their charges for their labor, you may keep one painting of a harpy in your home but it cannot be bigger than your forearm. It is to be kept out of sight of a window or door way, it is to be kept in an enclosed space, you will not boast about it and you will not parade it around for others to see. If you break my terms of conditions then I will have your painting destroyed and have you punished for blatant disobedience. As for your beloved fighting pits, I still left some standing haven't I? The three largest of them, Daznak's Pit, the Pit of Ghrazz and the Golden Pit are all still untouched. Abandoned and closed to the public, but still there. Be grateful that I have allowed that.

The nobles hadn't been overly excited on what she had offered but accepted such compromise graciously. The common people, who had little qualms over what was torn down and replaced gave Ranta a much easier time when they visited her with their requests along with suggestions for improvements and further changes when asked. They made it much more worth while to sit through two hundred plus visitors she saw on a daily basis, but thankfully today seemed to be Ranta's lucky day when she had been informed that only three people needed to see her over some concerns.

Unusual but the young woman would not question such a rarity, she welcomed it. It would make for an easy day considering that after she addressed the concerns of her citizens, Ranta just had to sit through a meeting with her advisors and then the woman was officially free to do as she pleased.

"Valued guest you stand before Lady Ranta of House Naylor, the first of her name, the Storm queen, queen of Mereen, queen of the Andals and First Men, queen of the Unsullied, Little Sister of the Dothraki, the Liberator of Slaver's Bay, and the mother of beasts. What is it that you seek from our queen?" Missandei addressed the snow white haired man standing upon the first platform leading up to the makeshift throne the young Naylor sat upon in the audience chamber - Jorah and Barristan flanking her sides and with Unsullied and Second sons including Daario and Grey Worm stationed around the room. "Thank you, your grace, for seeing me. I know you are a busy woman." the man bowed deeply in respect, dressed in silky cream colored clothing.

"It is no trouble at all, busy or not I will always make time to see to my people and their needs to the best of my abilities." Ranta assured him with a genuine smile upon her lips as he straightened once more. "My name is Fennesz, I can speak the common tongue if you'd like." the change of his language brought an impressed smile upon Ranta's lips. "And you speak it very well, whatever is more comfortable for you Fennesz." she told him with a light laugh.

"Before you freed me," he began, " I belonged to Master Midgal. I was a tutor to his children, I taught them languages and history. They know a great deal about your family and the Targaryen family as well because of me." he smiled, "Little Kala is merely seven and she admires you so much. She could go on for hours about you, in fact I am here on behalf of her and her other siblings as well as my own."

Ranta waited for him to continue with a faintly confused look. "When you took the city, she and the others begged me not to leave their home. Master Midgal and I however, agreed otherwise. So I left. I would have been homeless had it not been for the changes you have made to the city, but while I am not homeless, I do not have a source of income. No inventory to sell in the marketplace. My talents lied with being a tutor, teaching and passing down knowledge to the young ones all the while being well fed and cared for in their home." Fennesz finished.

"So you are here to ask for a life long loan?" the blue haired woman asked a bit lost. The elderly former slave shifted uneasily, " I would never presume to ask such a thing, my queen. I am here to ask if you will allow me to sell myself back to Master Midgal so that I do not starve to death in my home" he revealed, anxiety clear in his aged eyes and leaking through his voice.

...

...

...What?

"Excuse me?" Ranta asked incredulously, causing panic to flow through her subject's frame. "I mean no offence, your grace." Fennesz quickly back tracked, fighting to keep his eyes on the matriarch in front of him, "but it is just that while young and old alike rejoice in this new era you have brought to us, there are still some who are struggling like me to change. I had respect, admiration and was cared for when I was teaching the children. Now I am no one. I do not have those things anymore, I am just some old man without a penny to his name living in a home fit for a queen."

The audience chamber was silent for a few heart wrenching moments to the elder as he watched the new queen debate and argue with herself over his request, the former slave tutor was internally hoping that he would not face her wrath for offending her with his question.

"You have not offended, Fennesz," Ranta finally spoke softly, " You are also not nothing. You will never be nothing or no one. You are Fennesz, a living breathing man, a citizen of Mereen. I do not ever want to hear you say that about yourself again, you have impacted lives and are cared for dearly by the ones you taught and you are cared for by me. You say that you would never presume to ask me for a loan...I say other wise. Do not ever be afraid to ask for such a thing especially when you are in a predicament like the one you are in now. I am not a cruel woman, my friend, I would not have turned down your request for a life long loan even if you had asked for one."

Ranta paused, twirling a ring on her finger absent mindedly as she thought over her words carefully. " Your skills do not lie with selling and making weapons, clothing, medicine, trinkets or food. That is fine, we all have our different talents. Where you lag behind in areas others excel in, the same can be said but vice versa. Not everyone is educated, even I have not completed a formal education. What you have is special and I will not allow you to sell yourself back into slavery." she declared with no room to argue, " but I will allow you to work for Master Midgal again...him and the other children and adults of Mereen who would like to broaden their knowledge as well."

The silence was deafening as the queen's own advisors were waiting for her to clarify on what she meant. "Word will be sent out that the knowledgeable elder Fennesz is holding educational lessons in history and languages for people of all ages and from all sorts of backgrounds. The lessons can be held in the Midnight palace-" said place being referred to the northern district of the city, "at times and dates of your choosing, and your pay will be double the amount a noble tutor is paid. If I have understood your point of view correctly, then this will address all of your concerns you have brought to me. You will be able to teach Midgal's children once more, you will have your respect and admiration from not only them but from others who attend your classes, you will be someone to the public and you will have income to feed yourself. Any books or other materials you need, I will provide for you. Just send me a list of things you need at the end of each week and I will see to it that they get to you in a timely manner." Ranta finished.

"I hope that this is an acceptable compromise?" she then added on meaningfully, watching as a variety of emotions flashed through the elder man's eyes and mouth hung open. "Y-Yes, your grace!" Fennesz finally got out, bowing lowly like he had when he first greeted her. " Thank you, thank you! You do not know how much this means to me." Ranta smiled and waved a hand, "It is no problem at all, I hope to hear many good things about your teachings in the future, Fennesz."

With a few more deep bows and thank you's the educator exited the audience chamber with a bounce in his step at what was to come. "That was very kind of you, your grace. He asked for a foot and you have given him a mile." Jorah smiled at her along with Ser Barristan and Missandei. "I had to give him something, and who am I to keep someone from their passion, to keep someone from an education?" the young woman asked rhetorically with her own smile still upon her face before motioning an Unsullied guard to send the next visitor in.

The next visitor who had slowly shuffled into the room at the Unsullied's call was another man, but this one was much less confident than the last. His head was cast downwards, shoulders hunched and his entire form tense like a scared animal ready to bolt any second. He was also carrying a mysterious parcel in his white knuckled grasp, holding onto it as if it were his life line.

"You can step onto the platform, friend." Ranta said when she noticed he had stopped a hair's breath away from it but when he did not respond Missandei translated for her. Much like his posture, the man's voice was timid as well when he spoke. "This man says he has a goat herd, and that he prayed for your victory for Mereen. He is eternally grateful for what you have done for the city and its people." Missandei spoke for the shy male. "Tell him that I am thankful for his prayers, I am glad that he believed in me and supports what I am doing." Ranta requested.

The Naylor seen the man nod and seen the faintest of smiles on his lips after the translation before kneeling down and dropping his package onto the ground, unfolding the tattered blanket that hid its contents and explaining his reasoning as to why he came. Ranta nearly gasped at the sight of a charred goat skeleton shown before her, "He says that it was your dragons, Drogon if he believes he has seen correctly, started it when he came after the flock this morning but Vaemarr and Laemyx stopped the dragons from killing the rest of the goats off. He says that he has lost half of his flock to the attack and it is not enough to make a living for him and his son plus the expenses of taking care of the goats."

Ranta sighed heavily at the news, "Drogon knows better than to attack flocks, and so do the others." she fought the urge to rub her temple tiredly, "Express my absolute apologies to this man" Missandei began to translate, "I know it cannot be an easy thing to experience, but I promise that he will be paid the lost goats value three times over and the goats he lost will be replaced." at the end of the translation the goat farmer stalled at what Ranta had said before bursting into a flurry of action and quickly gathered his goats' remains and began vocalizing his thanks and bowing reverently as the last man had done before him, backing out of the room as he did so.

"I am going to be broke if I keep this up..." Ranta realized, much to the others amusement, "but I suppose as long as the people are happy then that's all that matters." she finished with a sigh, signaling the next person waiting to see her to be sent in. Instead of one man walking in, there were two, both nobles from what their clothes expressed but were unfamiliar to Ranta.

"The noble lord Hizdahr zo Loraq begs to have an audience with the queen." the younger of the two nobles spoke. Ranta fought the urge to openly roll her eyes, "If the noble lord wants an audience then he can speak to me himself...unless of course, you have something you wanted to request of me as well?" she asked, tone light. The younger man shook his head and stepped back to allow his elder companion to step forward and speak on the platform. This man was significantly tall compared to the other men of Mereen and was graced with naturally curly hair like Missandei, the only difference being that his was much shorter. Hizdahr was dressed in teal and yellow robes that complimented his young bearded face and dark brown eyes.

"Queen Ranta." Hizdahr greeted the young ruler in common tongue with a respectful bow, " I am relieved to see that my eyes have not deceived me when they first laid upon you when you arrived to Mereen, your beauty truly is remarkable and worth every bit of praise the people give." the liberator smiled humbly at the man's compliment. "You flatter me, Hizdahr, thank you." Ranta returned and waited patiently for the man to make his plea for whatever he needed.

"My family is one of the oldest and proudest families in Mereen. My father, one of Mereen's most respected and beloved citizens, is responsible for a good portion of the maintenance done in Mereen, this very pyramid for example...or rather he was until he was killed by your Unsullied soldiers you unleashed upon the city in the dead of night." the noble informed her evenly.

"If your father was killed by the Unsullied then it was because he crucified young children along the coastal path to the city." Ranta said evenly with a slight tremor in her voice at the end of her sentence. "My father argued against crucifying those children, he decried it as a criminal act and barbaric." Hizdahr argued, "And yet he still did it." the blue eyed woman pointed out unfazed.

This caused the noble to pause and subconsciously wet his lips as he thought over his next words carefully seeing as he could not argue with the truth of the queen's words. " What's done is done." the curly haired man caved, "You have won, you are queen now. The city is yours and the people are yours, all of us servants of Mereen and as a servant myself, I do not want to see all of our traditions eradicated."

Ranta blinked in wonder at this, "Which ones are you talking about?" she asked. " Funeral rights, your grace." Hizdahr brought his fingertips together gently in front of his form, "Proper burial in the Temple of the Graces. My father and the other one hundred and sixty two nobles are out in some field rotted under the sun, nothing but decayed flesh and bones having served as food for vultures." at this accusation, Ranta frowned heavily.

"Who told you such a thing?" she demanded angrily. Hizdahr remained silent, jaw slacked as his mind thought of ways to talk him out of the trouble his mouth had gotten him into. "Wither you have come to such an accusation by yourself or have heard it from the other nobles then you should be ashamed of yourselves, I'm offended that anyone would think that lowly of me." Ranta spoke plainly.

"Just because some people of Mereen seem to lack common decency, it does not mean that everyone outside of the city lacks it too. I believe that despite the back story a person has that people deserve respect during two points of their lives at the bare minimum, when they are born and when they die. I do not lack the common moral and decency the nobles of Mereen do, when your father and the others guilty of crucifying those children ended their journeys in the world of the living - they were put in a coffin and buried respectably in the rolling hills overlooking the city and Slaver's Bay...such a fate those children did not get to receive but like you said before, what's done is done. In plain words, you have come to me to request to move your father's body and that is fine, I have no problem with it. The others are free to do this as well - their family names should be engraved in the coffins so you will have to search for your father specifically amongst the others when he is re earthed." the Naylor finished.

Like the other men before him, Hizdahr hesitated momentarily as if he could not believe that Ranta was actually allowing him to move his father's body before bowing thankfully to the kind and generous queen, "Thank you, my queen, truly thank you."

"You are welcome, Hizdahr zo Loraq."

Backing off of the platform with a bowed head, the noble turned and exited the chamber with his companion by his side. Once the two were gone, Ranta snorted in distaste. "The audacity of him and others to think I would be so cruel as to disrespect a body like that." she rose from her throne and stretched her limbs. "Mereen is known for cruelty not kindness, you will have to be patient with them, your grace." Ser Barristan soothed her. "If you say so." Ranta released a heavy sigh, " shall we get our own meeting over with? Then you all may have the day to yourselves as I sleep to my heart's content."

"I could go for a drink myself." Daario agreed with Grey Worm by his side, climbing the stairs to appear before the blue haired woman. "Are you going down to the city square to sing for me, Ser Barristan?" Ranta smiled at the elder, leading the group through the pyramid she had finally memorized and to the war room. The Selmy chuckled warmly at this, "Perhaps one day if you were to join me." he granted.

"You sing?" Daario asked as the group made their trek up a few flights of stairs. "I had little choice when our queen's eldest brother was around, but it was all in the name of fun, I did not mind it." the oldest member of the group commented. "Now that is a sight I would love to see." the Second son chuckled walking into the war room graced with a terrace over looking the bay.

"Okay gentlemen, and my lady. Give me some news, any news." Ranta requested once everyone was sitting down at the table, well everyone but Grey Worm and herself of course. "King Joffrey Baratheon is dead," Jorah started off, gaining the room's attention, " murdered at his very own wedding nonetheless. I told you he would not remain in power for long." he smirked lightly.

"We've also taken the Meeranese navy, your grace." Ser Barristan added on, a sudden cough from Daario however stopped him from continuing on. "The Second Sons have taken their navy." the younger brunette corrected, reaching for a handful of grapes sitting on a plate in the center of the table. "And who told you to take their navy?" Ranta questioned without missing a beat.

"No one." Daario popped a grape into his mouth. "So why would you do it?" the blue eyed woman asked flatly, "Because I heard you like ships." Ranta sighed heavily at this, openly rubbing her throbbing temple with a few fingers, "Mereen wasn't using them anyways, you are going to be putting them to better use." he explained further. "How many. How many ships, Daario, did you take it upon yourself to capture?" the queen asked.

"Ninety- three, your grace." Barristan answered for his friend. "How many men can they carry?" Ranta fiddled with her necklace, "Ninety three hundred not including sailors." the Selmy supplied. The Naylor turned to Jorah and looked at him expectantly, "Will that be enough to pose as a threat to Kings Landing?" she questioned. "The Lannister's have more." Jorah supplied unhelpfully.

"Yes but they've been fighting Joffrey's wars for years. They're tired, dispersed and now their king is dead." Ser Barristan pointed out, with a nodding Daario by his side. "Even if that is true, I am not ready to sail for Westeros, we are not ready." Ranta dismissed his point, "I cannot take Westeros with only twelve thousand Unsullied, two thousand Second sons and seven hundred Dothraki screamers. Fourteen thousand seven hundred men are not enough to make sure I remain in control, especially if the kingdoms unite against me... besides I am not quite done with this side of the world yet."

"You're not?" Daario asked surprised. "No." Ranta shook her head, "I still have some places in mind where I would like to assert control and put under my protection, soon nonetheless." she revealed vaguely, giving a glance to Missandei and Grey Worm both before turning back to Missandei. "Do you have any news for me?" she asked to stop any questions from arising about her vague plans for the future.

"The Dothraki men you sent out a few months ago have sent word that all is holding up well in Yunkai and Astapor, the people are governing themselves nicely and so far there are no whispers of rebellion to speak of. But they would advise you to be wary of Volantis, your grace, they say that they have caught slavers from there capturing traveling merchants outside of both cities and trying to sell them into slavery on be half of Volantis. The slavers are now no longer in this world and the merchants were safely escorted into the cities but the Dothraki have offered to remain on the paths to Astapor and Yunkai alike to make sure it does not happen anymore." Missandei reported.

Ranta frowned heavily at the news brought before her, now this was troubling. Very troubling indeed. "Do me a favor Missandei and send a letter back to those out in the fields. Tell them the next time they catch one of Volantis' slavers, send their heads back to the city with a note that warns them to keep their men out of my territory unless they wish a greater problem to arise between us. Such acts of slavery will not be tolerated any longer and if such a thing happens again then it will be taken as an act of war. I won't have some scorned masters messing up everything I have fought for and built." the queen said with no room for argument.

"Of course, your grace." Missandei bowed her head respectively. "The freed men training is coming good, my queen." Grey Worm suddenly spoke in common, much to the room's surprise. "The freed men training is coming along well." Ranta corrected gently, a smile on her face. "Coming along well." the stoic man parroted back obediently, "They improve with every lesson." the captain reported. "Well that's very good to hear, I give my thanks to you and the others who have taken the effort to train them." the Naylor nodded in gratitude.

"Is there any thing else to report?" the woman then turned to her small council but when no one spoke up, Ranta waved a dismissive hand, "You all are free to go then. I have nothing else for you." the men and woman all stood and bowed to their queen before departing, the only one lingering being Ser Jorah himself. "Yes? Is there something you needed, Jorah?" the exotic woman asked.

The now deeply troubled looking man shifted uneasily in front of her, "Do you remember our first day actually in Mereen, when you asked if I was alright and if I was happy serving you?" he asked. "Yes..." Ranta trailed off uncertainly. "And do you remember how I said I'd prefer to talk about it at a later date?" Ranta nodded at this as well and was met with a meaningful look from the Mormont.

"Well what is it? What's troubling you?" the Naylor asked worriedly, twirling the ring on her finger nervously. The older man was silent for a few moments, hands held behind his back as he battled with himself internally. "Perhaps it would be better if I showed you instead." he finally gasped out. Ranta looked at him strangely but nodded nonetheless and allowed him to lead her to wherever he had to take her...which surprisingly ended up being his private quarters.

Standing in the center of his room uncertainly, Ranta looked around to see that it was neat and orderly - the Mormont flag she had gotten him years ago was hanging proudly over his headboard on his bed. Opening a chest and digging to the bottom of its contents, Jorah pulled out multiple rolled parchment papers, aged with the time that has passed and moderate abuse they received from being shoved into the bottom of the chest. Walking over to a table stationed in his room, the man dumped the letters on the table as Ranta took a seat across from him.

Shifting through the letters, Jorah found the one he was looking for and stared at it for a long while with an indescribable look on his face before releasing a shaky sigh and handed it over to his queen. Taking the rolled paper from his grasp Ranta scanned her eyes over the document and found it to be a letter, but not just any letter. It was a pardon, a pardon signed by Robert Baratheon.

"T-this is a pardon." Ranta stuttered, "for you signed by Robert Baratheon years ago." Jorah nodded without saying a word, sadness in his blue eyes. "Why?" the woman asked hopelessly dropping the letter onto the table, "Why were you pardoned by the man we were fighting against?" Ranta dreaded the answer he was about to give, she wished very badly that what she had read was a forged document and not true.

"I sent letters to Varys, the spy master of King's Landing." he revealed motioning to the letters before them, " Letters holding information about you, Viserys and Daenerys. When you three arrived to Pentos." he set aside one letter, " When Viserys arranged Daenerys and Khal Drogo to be married, when Viserys died." another letter, " When Daenerys was married, when I met you." one more letter, " Information about our travels together with Khal Drogo's horde, information about your gifts..."he laid the final letter down.

"Did that letter include information about Daenerys' pregnancy?" Ranta asked monotonously. "...Your grace-" Jorah tried swallowing the lump in his throat. " Don't. Did you tell him that Dany was pregnant?" she repeated. The Mormont hesitated but ultimately nodded, "I did." he admitted, "but I also told them how she nor the child were any threat to Westeros, I explained how she had no interest in ruling or having her son rule the seven kingdoms. I thought that they would believe me. I did not think that they would send someone to kill her if she showed no interest in crossing the Narrow Sea."

"But he did anyways, and his assassin nearly managed to kill her and her son" (A/N: I am going to make a change here instead of going back and making the change in the previous chapter so you guys don't end up getting two notifications for an update, Daenerys' son Rhaego died when the Dothraki screamer pushed her down over the dispute with Khal Drogo's health.)

"I got the poison out of her system before it could harm her or the child beyond repair."

"Because you knew the signs of what a poisoned victim looked like."

Silence enveloped the duo for a few minutes, both minds working in over drive about what was to come about the situation at hand. " When did the letters stop? Or have they stopped at all?" Ranta finally asked, staring ahead at the wall in front of her. "That was the last letter I ever sent." Jorah told her truthfully. "Those men who attacked us in the alleyway in Astapor before we got the Unsullied on our side? Were those assassins as well?" the woman wondered.

"Most likely, but I had nothing to do with that." Jorah promised her, but frowned in worry when Ranta merely stood from the table and turned to walk away from the former knight. " My queen?" he asked cautiously, standing as well. However, Ranta remained silent and continued her walk to the exit, only to be stopped by Jorah's rough callused hand wrapping around her wrist.

"Don't touch me!" Ranta involuntarily snapped, ripping her hand out of his grasp. "You must understand!" the man cried, cutting her path off from leaving his room. "Understand what Jorah?" her voice filled with hurt and eyes mirroring the emotion. Unknowingly to either of them, it had began to rain outside. "That this was before!" he cried himself, hurt in his own voice, " Before I got to know the both of you, before I had grown to care and before I seen the potential you and Daenerys both had to do great things for the world. This was before I chose to serve you" he told her.

"Before I got to know either of you, it was just a job." the man shook his head, "Give the king bits of information here and there about these two girls across the world and I got to go home, pardoned and all. I never expected to come to care for the both of you as I have now, I would have never taken the job if I knew that I would one day be here before you today as I am...If I truly wanted you dead, if I truly meant any harm then why would I dedicate my life to you, fight for you, die for you, kill for you?" Jorah finished.

"You tell me." Ranta shrugged weakly, voice soft. But then unexpectedly, Jorah suddenly dropped onto his knees and bowed low to the ground - forehead touching the stone floor. "Get up." Ranta whispered at the sight of him so low to the ground. "I beg for your forgiveness, my queen." he ignored her command, "I am sorry for what I've done. I have regretted my actions for years and I still do to this day."

"Get up, Jorah."

"I never meant for anyone to get hurt. If I would have known that Robert would go so far as to poison a mother and an unborn child, I would have never spied for him in the first place."

"Cut it out and rise."

" You must believe me when I say that I have done nothing but serve you loyally, faithfully and whole heartedly ever since that day. I serve you and only you. You are the queen I choose, the queen I will fight for until the day I die and even when I am nothing but dust and bones in the ground- when my name is nothing but a whisper in the wind and fading from history... I will continue to fight for you, I will do so until the end of time."

"On your feet, Mormont!" Ranta finally yelled, reaching down and pulling him up to the best of her ability - which wasn't too impressive to say the least. All the woman had managed to do was to sit him back on his knees, revealing his watery eyes. "Do not ever bow to me like that again." Ranta breathed through her own tears, using the back of her hand to wipe the salty water droplets away. "I know you're sorry," her voice crackled, " and I know you would never do it again because of what you said just now, but I cannot ignore the fact that you still spied." Jorah's heart dropped into his stomach at this.

" I also cannot ignore what you have done for me during these years together, it is because of you that I have made it this far and I will never forget that." Ranta shook her head, " I am eternally grateful for you Ser Jorah Mormont, but to be truthful, I do not know what to do with you. Killing you is out of the question, so therefore banishment would be the next option...but I cannot bare that thought either. This city is as much yours as it is mine." Jorah slowly stood to his feet as he awaited his punishment.

" You are to go on an extended leave," Ranta decided, " travel between the cities of Slaver's bay if you want but do not come back to Mereen until I summon you. Collect information on Volantis, work with the Dothraki to keep traveling merchants safe, find me more allies - I don't care. " Ranta let out a humorless huff, "but give me time to get over the hurt, because if you don't then all I'll be able to see when I look at you is the man who betrayed me from the first and not the good man I know you are." Ranta held a hand over his heart.

Jorah nodded at his sentencing, emotional blue eyes connecting with similar ones belonging to his female companion as her hand slipped away from his chest and began backing away towards the exit once more. "Be gone by dusk, Jorah... and you better not get yourself killed either while you are on leave. I still need you by my side when I set sail for Westeros." Ranta finished softly, leaving the Mormont with one last meaningful glance before disappearing out of his sight as she left the room completely.

The numb Naylor mindlessly made her way up to her room at the top of the pyramid, her thoughts on constant replay about what her most trusted friend had revealed to her moments before. This stung, stung bad but Ranta couldn't help but feel that it would have been much worse if Jorah hadn't come forward with this information himself. She respected him for that, a lesser man would have taken that kind of secret to the grave or until forced to. One thought in particular bugged Ranta greatly...

What on earth was she going to tell Daenerys when she eventually returned to her side? What was she going to tell Missandei, Barristan, Grey Worm and Daario?

0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.

Greetings and Salutations! Thoughts of how the story's going so far and what you think should happen? Let me know so I can have some material/ feedback to help me work with. THANK YOU ALL FOR THE LOVE AND SUPPORT!