"Missandei, a letter has arrived."
The curly haired woman blinked out of the daze she had set herself in during the small transition between citizens and their requests for the day and looked around. Looking to her right, she had seen Ser Barristan, looking at her confused and slightly worried. "My lady?" a man's voice sounded from in front of her. Turning, the translator's vision was filled with the sight of a nameless delivery boy who had been holding out a scroll for her to take. Blinking harshly once more Missandei reached out and accepted the letter from the man with a heartfelt thanks before he turned and departed.
Staring at the seal keeping the letter's contents hidden, Missandei was able to determine that the parchment had come from Qarth. Though from who she was unable to say for certain until the seal was broken. "Have we have any word on the status of the Khaleesi and her men? Where they are?" Missandei asked, tucking the letter into her dress for later.
"The Khaleesi..."Daario began but was cut off by another person joining the conversation. "Is here." the trio looked up and smiled at the sight of a certain silvery blonde haired woman and Dothraki at her sides. There in all her glory, standing before Mereen's protectors had been Daenerys Targaryen herself. "Lady Daenerys!" Missandei exclaimed in relief, shortening the distance between them and bowing respectively to the last Targaryen along with Daario and Barristan.
"Missandei." Dany returned with a smile but instead of bowing she pulled the translator in for a hug and then offering her own greetings to Daario and Barristan. "It is good to see you are well, my lady. I see you have obtained your lost kingdom?" Missandei assumed with a smile towards the men on both sides of her. "Wouldn't be here if I hadn't." Dany pulled away to observe the trio, " I see that Mereen is still standing, all must be going well with my sister's absence." she returned with a joking smile.
"Well enough as it can be." Daario smirked, "When the cat's away the mice usually try to come out to play." he offered to the silvery blonde. "Possible concerns from the usual few are nothing to fret about." Barristan countered hurriedly. "But are significant enough to cause worry nonetheless." Rakharo noted with a slight frown. "Enough to cause worry to flow through Vaes Dothrak and chase the Khaleesi out and have the horde up in arms about it." Jhogo stated. The trio of advisors charged with Mereen's protection shifted warily, exchanging glances with one another. "And which worry exactly has you all up in arms?" Missandei asked, wringing her slender fingers nervously.
" The one about Ranta being on the verge of war with Volantis comes to mind." Daenerys huffed. Missandei's brow furrowed greatly, "How did you hear about this?" she questioned. "From our own Dothraki scouts, they've encountered yours on some of the roads to the city." Rakharo informed the woman, "One moment we're in a meeting discussing future plans and the next, Irri is running in like a mad woman and saying that Little Sister is going to war...or at least preparing for it. I think it is a scare tactic to waive off any rash thoughts of actions from the free city…" he trailed off, leaving his statement open ended to have room for dispute.
The brown eyed woman adopted a worried expression on her young face and instinctively took a step back to be cocooned by her two guards. "It is no scare tactic." she shook her head, " Our queen meant what she said, if any more slavers come into our lands then it will be war." Daenerys frowned heavily at this and exchanged looks with her own guards, "Steps have been taken to provide the citizens and army with ways to endure any future invasions. Mass weapons and medicinal supplies have been procured before the queen left and citizens understand that they are to move inwards while the soldiers move out, stopping any foot soldiers from reaching the inner workings of the city." Missandei informed the Khaleesi.
With this information rolling over in his mind, Rakharo scratched at his chin absently, " We've dispersed men to where ever your Dothraki were as reinforcements on the roads. Was there somewhere else you wanted them?" he asked but Daario shook his head, gaining attention." No, that is fine. We have plenty of foot soldiers on the ground. It'll be no easy attack should they choose to act, our main concern is if they bring in their own armada and attack from the bay. We have ships yes, but not ones to stand par with the Volanteese."
Barristan nodded his head in agreement to the statement, "Our queen is settling that now though, and in the mean time we are not completely defenseless against sea warfare…" he shifted lightly at the imploring looks given to him, "do you really think the dragons are going to stand idle as their mother's home is attacked? Because I don't. Now it isn't a fate I would wish upon anyone, to be burned to death by dragon fire, but should the situation arise...it's not like we can stop them anyways." he frowned at this.
Missandei nodded her head in agreement to this - taking a step forward as she did so, "As intelligent as they are, the dragons only listen to the queen and perhaps in extention you, lady Daenerys, as being her sister but nevertheless they will protect what is queen Ranta's." the curly haired woman stated as a matter of fact. After a moment of silently absorbing the information given, the last Targaryen smiled comfortingly and placed a comforting hand on Missandei's shoulder. "Well no matter what happens or what doesn't, we will be here to help. Have no fear….now how about-" Dany was cut off when a, what she believed to be, was a second son warrior suddenly walked in with what she assumed was a family.
There was a middle aged grey eyed brunette woman that clearly played the role as the mother and then two much older men that weren't twins but were easily identified as brothers. How one was so crippled while the other wasn't besides a scar on his cheek, was a mystery to the Targaryen princess.
" Ahh, the Greengoods." Ser Barristan greeted the family who all stopped and bowed in respect to the higher authorities in front of them. "After noon." the second son of the family unit returned, " Forgive the interruption, I was unaware the queen's sister had arrived already." he cast his gaze to the silvery blonde knowingly, a sly smile working on his lips. Rakharo and Jhogo tensed at the sight of this but was calmed by a pale hand raising to call her guard dogs down.
Daenerys eyed him carefully though not distrustedly, "Forgive me, good ser, you seem to know me but I do not know you." she mused which only intensified the warrior's smirk even more. "Lady Daenerys, this is Cerran Greengood and his family." Darrio stepped forwards, using his hand to motion to each member of the unit," His mother Melarie, and his elder brother Kiran. They joined us back in Yunkai, but you've just never met. Cerran fights in our army and has bent the knee along with Kiran on behalf of their family to our queen, making them former banner men of House Stark." the brunette finished pointedly.
The stunned expression on the violet eyed woman's face was easy for all to see. "Y-you're from Westeros?" she asked, attempting to reel in her shock. "Aye," Cerran nodded once with a grin, "once we heard where the resident Naylor was hiding, we came running." he stated with ease. Daenerys couldn't help but smile a bit at this news. And Ranta was worried about not having House support, they were families crossing the Narrow sea for her already.
"Missandei," White Rat's voice suddenly rang out, there seemed to be an abundant of visitors for her today wasn't there? "Hizdahr lo Zoloraq is requesting an audience. Shall I send him in?" the current Unsullied captain asked. Missandei sighed lightly and nodded after getting reassuring looks from Daenerys and the Greengood family that they were fine with putting their conversation on hold. Making quick work of the stone stairs, Missandei, Barristan and Daario took their positions in front of the plain throne while Daenerys and her men stood at the bottom of the stairs on one side and the Greengood family taking post on the other much like the Unsullied guards were.
A few seconds later, the noble lord himself appeared in all of his glory - his stride confident and strong but once the man had realized there had been company entertaining Mereen's current caretaker, an abashed look filled his face. "My lords and ladies, forgive me for the interruption. May I also take this opportunity to welcome you to Mereen, Khaleesi. " Hizdahr apologized and then greeted the silvery blonde.
"It is quite alright Hizdahr, what can I help you with today?" Missandei asked after Daenerys returned the greeting with a polite nod. "Well it's not so much what you can do for me specifically but what you can do for the nobles of Mereen. As per requested, I am here to speak upon their behalf." he explained.
"Very well, go ahead." the curly haired woman waited patiently though she knew deep inside she would not like what he had to say. " Mereen is prospering, for former masters and freed men alike and everyone can see this." the young lord began, " All is well in our city. The market is booming, poverty is all but extinguished, roofs are over every head, clothes are on all backs and food is on every plate. And while many thrive and flourish in our new era, there is also a bit of sadness here as well."
"Sadness?"
"Yes, sadness. Sadness caused by the death of our ancient traditions. The end of the fighting pits. One by one we have watched them all disappear, replaced by a fountain, bench, garden or play area for children. One by one until there were but three left, three that sit under the sun. Empty and Barren. Closed to the public, used for training soldiers. The nobles and I would bid you to change this." Hizdahr pleaded.
Missandei sighed heavily, " Lord Hizdahr I am sorry you and the others feel this way, but this matter was settled when the queen was here." she stated calmly despite the inner turmoil roiling within her mind. This is exactly what she had feared would happen. "The pits are to remain closed to the public. Queen Ranta has made this clear time and time again." Daario and Barristan had grimaces of sympathy on their faces as they stood on either side of the curly haired translator who remained standing before the throne, unable to bring herself to sit upon the grand seat. Not for the noble lord however. Oh no, they had sympathy for Missandei.
"Yes I know this, but I believe that you know as well as I do that this has not gone over well with others in Mereen." the young lord appealed, "The pits, representing tradition and history, have produced legends. It is where men could fight to gain glory, it is where their name would go down in history and forever be remembered by the people of Mereen. But now they produce nothing, once sacred and beloved areas reduced to meager training spots. This could change however if you reversed her command and allowed fighting to resume there if only for a short time. Not only would it remind the citizens that Mereen's old traditions still live, but it-"
"But it would also represent treason." Missandei cut off coldly. "Our queen's word is law and she declared, while still on Mereen soil, that the pits were to be closed to the public. For you to suggest that I reverse an order she directly gave..." the woman shook her head, "You may not value your life but I value mine. And I will not risk it for a few men who wish to watch others beat each other to death in a dirt circle. Again, I am sorry my lord that you are unsatisfied with how things are now, but you and the others must learn to move on. Things in the past are to remain in the past for a reason. It is time the nobles you are speaking on behalf of understoond that….Now, is there anything else you wanted to bring attention to?" the woman asked mechanically, hands folded in front of her.
The noble lord was silent for a long while before releasing a deep sigh and shaking his head slightly. "No, thank you for your time, my lady." Hizdahr bowed respectfully before turning and walking out of the audience chamber. Before he could completely leave though, Missandei stopped him. "Lord Hizdahr." she called, stalling the young man and causing him to turn to face her. "Queen Ranta is rather fond of you, did you know that?" the brunette asked, effectively stunning the occupants of the room.
"N-no I did not." the noble admitted. Missandei nodded her head, "Yes, though you have only come to her for a few requests...wither they be of your own or of others...you are rather liked by our queen. She finds you to be one of the few nobles she can understand as to why the slaves spared you. You are reasonable Hizdahr, you are kind, you can adapt, and you are understanding. A true servant of Mereen who only wants to see the city and its' inhabitants prosper. It is for these reasons that your friends continue to have you play messenger for them, is it not? Because they know the queen and I are more likely to humor you than we would with any other noble." Hizdahr remained silent and blinked up at the former slave woman.
"Despite your 'pushs' to return to some of the old ways of Mereen, I think we both know that you believe that the change that has come to the city is not the worst thing to happen. Nor do I think that you have any ill will against the queen, especially when she buried your father instead of allowing him to rot in the sun like you had originally thought and then allowed him to be reburied where you desired. I think we are both well aware that any other new higher authority would not have been so gracious to allow this, they would have brushed you and your request aside... Now as to the point I am trying to make," she paused and looked him square in similar brown orbs.
"Do not allow the others to drag you down. Do not become their meat shield because I can promise you, noble lord, that it will not play out well for you in the end. Favor for one only goes so far when you are outside of the circle. Having favor when you are inside the circle however, is something different entirely." Missandei trailed off thoughtfully, ignoring the subtle looks Daario and Barristan were giving her.
"You have much more wiggle room when you are in the inner circle. Do you see what I am getting at?" the woman asked. The young man's eyes waivered, his jaw slack as he tossed the implications and new information given to him around in mind.
"You desire to serve Mereen? Then serve Mereen. I am offering you a spot in our queen's council, a liaison of sorts between us and the nobles. You will help me keep them satisfied and will continue to do so when our queen returns. Keep in mind, I do not make this offer lightly, so I suggest you think about your answer carefully. You may also want to keep in mind, along with the others, that queen Ranta spared no masters of Astapor, nor Yunkai. She did not need to spare the former masters of this city, but she did. That decision though, is one that can be reversed unlike your request on the pits. I would advise you to caution your colleagues against doing anything rash should retaliation cross your minds." Missandei finished.
Hizdahr was silent for a long moment before bowing "Yes, my lady." the noble lord bowed in respect once more before leaving the chamber. Once the man was out of ear shot, Missandei sighed heavily and rubbed her eyes tiredly. "He will be back, this is far from the end of the situation." Cerran noted as a matter of fact. "They'll push the matter until the queen returns, and then they'll go back into their little holes they slithered out of." Kiran spoke for the first time since entering the room, adjusting his grip on his cane and shifting his weight slightly, "The sooner the queen returns, the better it is for everyone."
Having watched the exchange silently, Daenerys turned towards Missandei, " Are you going to do anything about the nobles of Mereen?" she asked with a small frown, concerned. Daario hummed in agreement, eyes narrowed on the doorway the noble had left through moments ago, " Our Second sons are keeping an eye on them, they blend in the best and are able to sneak around without rousing too much suspicion. So far, we don't have reason to believe that they'll do anything rash, despite Missandei shutting down the idea of re opening the fighting pits." the bearded brunette shrugged.
"Only time will tell if more drastic measures will be needed. We will just have to sit and wait them out" Barristan advised the group of younglings in front of him. "May it be a short wait." Cerran grumbled and earning a slap to his arm because of it curtesy of his mother. "Ow! What did you do that for?" he whined, though there was no real pain inflicted upon him. " You have got to be the only one who is eager for trouble," the mother glared up at her boy, " Trouble is the last thing you need, so don't you go sniffing it out. You best leave those nobles be, no meddling in their business and pushing them into doing something stupid. You let the leaves fall where they may on their own, Cerran."
A mock look of offense filled Cerran's face at the accusation, " Why mother," he held a hand to his chest, "I am offended that you think I would do such a thing. I don't go looking for trouble, nor does trouble find me. I have nothing to do with such devious things. It hurts to know you think so poorly of your son, truly it does." he pouted, patting the area over his heart.
Kiran scoffed loudly at that, a smile playing on his marred face. " Lies and slander upon your name and honor, brother. You not looking for trouble is like me saying that I'll actually be able to walk on my own again one day and hold a sword." he joked morbidly with a chuckle that was not reciprocated by his mother or brother though he flashed a small smile. "Your lack of belief is disheartening, and they say you're the optimistic one out of the both of us...which brings me to the reason as to why we are here." Cerran then turned to Missandei and closed the distance between them.
"Come darling, let us all take a walk to the war room." he held out his arm invitingly and flashed a charming smile. "I'm sure the information we have to share, you will find is to die for." Cerran wiggled his eye brows, earning an amused snort of laughter from Missandei before she accepted his offered arm. Melarie did similar with her oldest boy and helped him up the stairs with practiced ease as Ser Barristan and Daario corraled the Targaryen princess and her guards after the temporary ruler and small family.
Having never been deep in the pyramid before, the Khaleesi and her guard along with Melarie and Cerran were very much enthralled by the designs in the stone walls on the journey to the desired room. Their reactions had been much of the same when they entered the open room that gave a great view of over sees the city below. "So, tell me, Cerran Greengood. What is so important that you dragged us all up here?" Missandei asked as the others placed themselves around the table and into a chair or remained standing.
"Before we get to that, if you don't mind, I would like to ask a question." Daenerys interrupted, sliding her chair over slightly as Kiran was lowered into his place next to her. Missandei nodded and beckoned for the violet eyed woman to speak. "Ranta is sailing south, with Grey Worm, an Unsullied guard and the snakes, yes?" Dany stated more than asked. "Yes, that is correct." Missandei confirmed. "She left you, Barristan and Daario in charge of Mereen until she returns?" "Yes." Missandei was confused about where the other woman was going with this.
"Then where is Jorah Mormont and why isn't he with Ranta?"
0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.
Suturing a wound was a lot like sewing. The only difference being that there was a man writhing in pain as he bit down on a towel to muffle any cries of discomfort. It also made Ranta have a new sense of respect for the maesters, she didn't think she could do what they did for a living. Especially if she accidentally caused more pain than necessary when the patient became squirmy under her hand and got the needle poke in the arm where it didn't belong. "For the love that is all good, boy, quit moving!" came the annoyed bark of the aging maester/ cook of the ship.
"Had you been training with practice swords like your supposed to, then you wouldn't need any stitches." he finished before locking eyes with the Naylor woman imploringly, "Will you be a dear, my queen, and hand me that bowl to your right?" Ranta blinked a bit in surprise before turning and seeing what the healer had been talking about and grabbed the bowl that had been filled with a thick white substance.
"Milk of the poppy, take a sip boy. It'll give you the relief you apparently need." the maester bid his patient who took the bowl from the noble lady with a blush. Watching his patient sip from the bowl, the maester waited a few moments for the medicine to kick in. After prodding at the area around the wound on the patient's arm and confirming that he couldn't feel much, the maester turned to Ranta and offered the needle and thread to the queen.
"You never know when such knowledge and practice will come in handy, your grace." Ranta hesitated but took the materials from his hands and picked up where the man left off. "After you sew the wound closed, an ointment will have to be applied to the area and then bandaged. Bandages will need to be changed daily to stop the wound from infecting and he'll have to take it easy on that arm if he ever wants it to heal completely." the healer explained as the queen worked diligently to sew the torn skin together.
"Milk of the poppy" Ranta murmured, "...men have become addicted to this before, so much that they begin to physically shake if they do not get their fix." she noted. "Yes, this is true." the maester admitted, "But only when it is administered for long periods of time. The milk of the poppy is a very addictive medicinal herb which is why it is only to be administered by experienced maesters who will watch over the man or woman who needs it. They watch for signs of dependency and make the necessary changes."
Ranta nodded in understanding, "And how long have you been practicing medicine for?" she asked curiously. "Well, I am in my fourtys now so it's been ohhh a good twenty years, give or take? There's still much I can learn but after studying and practicing for over twenty years, I'd like to think I am experienced" the man answered. "The call for healing didn't come when you were younger?" the woman tried, shoving the needle and thread through the last inch of skin and pulled lightly to make sure the skin stayed closed while she waited for further instructions.
"No, my first calling was to agriculture and farming." the maester moved forwards and took the needle from her hand and slowly demonstrated how to knot the thread to hold the stitches together and then snip the excess thread away. "My mother had a horrible green thumb compared to my father and I, so it was really us who kept food on the table while she contributed by caring for animals and being quite the talented seamstress." the aged man stood up and grabbed another bowl off of a shelf that contained some other kind of medicine and a roll of bandages.
"This is a concoction of mustard seeds, nettles and bread mould." he showed her the strangely colored paste. " Stops and prevents infection." the maester carefully poured the serum over the fresh stitches before putting the bowl down and wrapping the wound with bandages. "The paste doesn't need to be applied everyday?" Ranta wondered but the healer merely shook his head.
"Only every few days. This concoction will remain effective for days at a time. Come back to me on the evening of the third day from now" the maester instructed the injured man before waiving him off. Taking the needle, he carried it over to a counter before setting it down and grabbing a bottle containing a liquid. "Vinegar is used to disinfect tools." he commented offhandedly as the needle returned to his grasp and poured the liquid over the tool, rubbing it clean.
"Was there something you needed, your grace? Upset stomach, dizziness, headache? Any other ailment I didn't list?" he questioned and the Naylor couldn't blame him. She did honestly just wander below deck and into his working area out of the blue and on a whim. She had no reason for being down there outside of being bored. Ranta shook her head negatively, "I find myself with an abundance of free time when not ruling over a city. If you would like to continue informing me of medicines though, I will not protest. Or if you want me out then I will not protest to that either." Ranta shrugged with an easy going smirk.
The man huffed a laugh at the queen's aloof attitude. " Well, I suppose I should start out with that maesters do not usually have a presence aboard a ship. If a captain wants a qualified healer aboard then they have to hire one. Commoners don't really use maester services either, they use travelling barbers, local healers, midwives, wood witches, hedge wizards and their own knowledge of herbs." Ranta frowned at this news and mentally made a note to change this in the future.
Beckoning the blue haired woman forward, the maester led her along the shelves stocked with some of his supplies, " Wounds are often cleaned with boiling wine, Myrish fire or firemilk but those burn skin upon contact. Maggots are used to eat away rotten flesh on a person and leeches are used to drain bad blood, infection, or poison from the body. Moon tea is used as a contraceptive and can deal with unwanted pregnancies. Pain can also be dulled outside of milk of the poppy with dreamwine, or willow bark." the informed man grabbed said bark and handed it to Ranta.
Twisting and turning the deceptivley soft wood in her hands, the Naylor looked to the healer confused. "How does juice or paste come from this?" she asked innocently, much to his amusement. "No, no." He shook his head, "You have to chew it." Ranta recoiled with a disgruntled expression on her face, "Chew it?!" she echoed. The aging maester laughed and nodded, "Chew it into a pulp your self and swallow it." he informed.
The Naylorian queen frowned and a visible shiver worked its way through her frame, "Well, no thank you." she handed the bark back, "You will not see me chewing a piece of bark and swallowing it to relieve some pain." she sniffed admittedly haughtily.
The healer laughed some more and put the bark back in its place, "I remember saying the same thing when I was your age. But when push comes to shove and milk of the poppy is no where to be found, one does what is necessary. Word of advice for if the unfortunate situation does arrive...make sure you chew it all the way up. Because choking on a piece of wood is the worse feeling in the world." a grimace worked its way onto the older man's face before he cleared it and continued on.
"Fractured limbs are held in place using plasters until the bones are joined up. Should you ever find yourself in the wilds or without the care of a healer, use make shift splinters and bindings to hold a bone in place, works just the same so long as the wrapped area isn't moving freely." the duo returned to where they had sutured the injured man and Ranta took a seat atop a table as the maester stood in front of her.
"Minor colds, fevers, and fluxes are rarely deadly or even worth fretting over. The body does a good job of fighting off the sickness as long as they get the proper rest and care one needs. The bloody flux, is another story however, very rarely does anyone survive the bloody flux. It is a death sentence for the person who has it and those who try to treat it without the proper protective wear on, it's even wiped out armies before. Other diseases however can be contracted primarily during childhood. Redspots is common but it never kills anyone under the age of ten, and once you have had it you are immune to it for the rest of your life. However, adults who did not contract it in childhood remain at risk of infection. Greyscale is another that is rarely fatal to children, but nearly always fatal to adults. It makes the skin grey and hard as stone and often leaves it's survivors disfigured and partially insane at times."
Ranta was unaware how long she had spent her time below beck with the knowledgeable maester but when she finally did appear above deck, the sun had been setting on the horizon, lighting the sky with beautiful variations of purples, red, oranges, yellows and even pinks. Greeting those who greeted her, Ranta made her way absently around the deck until finally coming to a stop and took to sight seeing instead with her back towards the crew as she leaned against a railing, and hand dangling limply off the finished wood of the rail as men behind her bustled about as usual and stared out at the deep blue seemingly never ending sea completely at ease.
"I thought I heard the Old Man say: 'Leave her, Johnny, leave her.' Tomorrow ye will get your pay, and its time for us to leave her. Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow, and it's time for us to leave her."
Ranta smiled faintly at the sea shanty, as the sailors called it, being sung by at least every man on deck. Despite her time aboard the ship the only thing she knew in ship terms had been that port is left, starboard is right. Man over board means someone out drifting in the water without anything to hold onto. Weigh anchor refers to reeling the anchor up out of the water and back onto the ship. Land hoy was obviously land ahead. Anything else was a loss on her.
"Oh, the wind was foul and the sea ran high. Leave her, Johnny, leave her! She shipped it green and none went by. And it's time for us to leave her."
The Naylorian queen thanked the gods above that she was handling the voyage without any complications. Sea sickness was the last thing the people needed to see. It wasn't a pretty sight at all, she knew that better than anyone because within the first two hours of leaving Mereen a poor soul had been over come by it and vommited all over deck. Captain Penrose had not been amused to say the least.
" Had I been aware I had such spineless, weak stomached, mangy, puke faced, toad lickin', gutless kidneywipes for powder monkeys I would have left your sorry arses back at port! Clean up the mess and get back to work!"
What a lady. Ranta frowned at the harsh words used by the pirate captain and frowned in sympathy towards said young boy who had been publicly insulted moments after emptying his lunch onto the deck. The poor lad had been mere feet away from the railing where he had been trying to get to - to empty his stomach into the sea but just couldn't make it in time.
"Aye, captain!" two sailors systematically ran up to each side of the boy and hauled him to his feet, doing a subtle check on him when the captain's harsh gaze had fallen else where and then each thrust a bucket and rag into his hands. "Quartermaster," Ranta said carefully to the man beside her who had taken to being her personal tour around the ship along with Grey Worm. "What's a powder monkey?" she asked once the second in command turned to look at her, the man had been frowning and shaking his head at the sight before him in disappointment.
"Powder monkeys mainly help the crew, your highness. They're the lowest of the low when it comes to ship rank, they have yet to fully know and understand ship basics. It'll be a few years before they are moved up in rank...if they last that long on a ship that is." he shrugged. "And you recruit them from…?" Ranta trailed off. "They come to us looking for work, we don't go to them." the man shook his head.
"I hate to sail on this rotten tub.'Leave her, Johnny, leave her!' No grog allowed and rotten grub. And it's time for us to leave her. We swear by rote for want of more. 'Leave her, Johnny, leave her!' But now were through so we'll go on shore. And it's time for us to leave her."
The Unsullied had been taking to the voyage well too, though Ranta wasn't quite sure if that was such an accomplishment given their history. Lost in her thoughts, unknowing to the woman herself, Ranta's dangling hand had been beginning to swing its self back and forth in a lazy fashion. A motion that had been harmless enough had it just been doing that and that alone.
Had the Naylor been paying attention, she would have noticed that the water below had been moving and splashing in synch with her hand motions - steadily becoming stronger the longer her hand swung and causing waves to rock the ship harsher than they had been before. Ranta also would of noticed that the ruins burned into her skin had began glowing faintly had she been in the right frame of mind, but thankfully for her, the ever watchful Grey Worm had noticed these turn of events from his position on the upper deck, having been lingering near the railing himself.
Making quick work of the stairs and approaching the monarch, the stoic man's hand shot out and captured the offending appendage of the woman's in his own. Turning to him in shock, Ranta stared at him in bewilderment but before she could question his actions - Grey Worm held a finger to his lips. "You are disturbing the water, my queen." he uttered as an explanation and then diverted his eyes down to her faintly glowing arm, causing the woman to do the same.
Ranta gasped and pulled her hand out of Grey Worm's grasp to hide some of the markings from view. Looking around to see if anyone else had noticed her subconscious actions or glowing limbs, Ranta frowned in concern as Grey Worm pressed a hand into the small of her back and led her back to her quarters at a brisk pace.
"I...I didn't mean to, I didn't know I was doing it." she felt the need to explain herself to the man, and then observed her arm some more - the light from the ruins now gone. Why were the ruins glowing? Why act up now? Grey Worm said nothing as he rifled through his companion's belongings, looking for a dress or shirt that would hide her arms should they decide to begin glowing again.
Finding a dark red, long sleeved shirt made of the lightest material possible - Grey Worm pulled it out and walked the clothing over to the Naylor. "Try this, my queen, the heat shouldn't be a problem with this material and it is dark enough in color to hide the lights if they come back." he stated.
Tearing her eyes away from her arm, Ranta smiled in gratitude and took the shirt from his hands. Turning, Grey Worm gave the blue haired woman the privacy she needed and waited for a verbal confirmation that it was okay to look again. Quickly peeling off the dress, internally thanking herself for making a habit of wearing trousers underneath her dresses, Ranta was changed in the blink of an eye.
"Thank you Grey Worm." the woman lightly touched his back to let him know it was okay to turn around as she passed by the man to stow her dress away. The man nodded in return though she did not see it, and waited for the monarch's next move. If she wanted to ignore the situation then he would, or if she was ready to address it then he would do all he could to help. Either way, he was ready for what ever came at him.
"Did anyone else see?" Ranta asked with a bit of worry in her sky blue eyes. "I do not think so, I believe I caught you before anyone else caught it." the Unsullied captain answered honestly. "It's not like it'll be the worse thing in the world, if they did see. But the last thing I need is to be nicknamed a sea witch." Ranta joked weakly, rubbing her arm a bit, a look of deep thought upon her face.
"Did you know my great grandmother could control the water?" she revealed to him. Inwardly this was a surprise to him, but the expression didn't come across his face as he shook his head no. "Apparently she was very good at controlling the water, she used hand motions like I had been doing." Ranta demonstrated with her hand for a moment before stopping herself in fear of messing with the waves once more.
"Mother had control over earth and her mother wind." she finished. "And you have inherited these?" Grey Worm asked and earning a so-so motion from the woman. "Thunder and lightning are my specialties. It's all I've ever really used, but my ancestors powers do kick in when mine activate. Usually it's just my great grandmother's and grandmother's, wind and rain to accompany the storm but they just comes on their own. It's not like I'm intentionally summoning them" Ranta flicked a wrist dismissively.
"...When do your powers appear?" he asked. "When I am in danger, or get emotional." the woman answered honestly. "Then what is wrong, my queen?" the man then asked, much to Ranta's confusion. "You said that they come when you are in danger or if you are emotional. You are not in danger here, so what is troubling you?" Grey Worm inquired.
The blue eyed woman huffed lightly, a ghost of a smile playing on her lips. That wasn't exactly what she meant, thunder and lightning appeared when those requirements were met but she'd give him props anyways. " Nothing. I was just thinking about how you and the other Unsullied were taking this trip over the water very well. There wasn't anything to get worked up over." she trailed off, eyes drifting down to her cloth covered arm that hid the scarred ruins from sight. "The priestess from before." Grey Worm in toned, his own eyes dropping down to the woman's arm.
"We can go to the Temple of the Graces when we get back home and ask about it. I doubt a pirate filled isle will have any priestesses there." Ranta agreed. It was entirely possible that her glowing arm and sudden influence over water had something to do with the magic practicing woman from before. But why the effects of what she had done to the Naylor were just now kicking in, Ranta had no idea
"Well." Ranta sighed lightly, "It's a matter for another day, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it." she then moved for the door. "How much longer do we have until we get to the isles?" she asked but no sooner that she did, something hit the ship hard enough to splinter the integrity of the boat with a loud crash that nearly sent the blue queen to the floor had Grey Worm not steadied her at the last minute. "What was that?" Ranta asked incredulously before rushing to the door with Grey Worm on her heels, shouting could easily be heard coming from outside.
Emerging from the room, the duo were greeted by the rest of the Unsullied - tense and forming a protective barrier outside their captain and queen. The ship's crew had been thrown into a sense of chaos, running around barking orders at each other that their own captain had given moments before.
"Enemy off the starboard side!"
"Load the catapults!"
"Marksmen to your posts!"
"Captain!" Ranta cried climbing the stairs leading to the tense woman with her guard on her heels, yelping when another blast hit the ship and nearly sent the woman toppling over the railing. Or it could of been the fact that storm clouds were rolling in as a response to the danger at hand, and the waves grew choppier as a result. "What's going on?" the Naylor asked, pausing on the stairs.
"We're under attack, the hell if I know by who though." she spat, " But no matter who they are, they must be on one of their slave runs and decided to have a bit of fun. They're giving the Iron Giant a bit of grief too." the woman growled with a look cast over her shoulder to see the other ship returning fire as best as it could while trying to avoid the most damage possible. Spinning the ship's wheel as fast as she could to the right the captain turned back to the blue queen.
"Your grace, it is not safe out here. You have to go back to-" a gasp slipped past Ranta's lips when she seen a flaming fire ball being launched into the air and crashed straight into the ship's side. The force sending the woman's body toppling over the edge of the railing despite Grey Worm's brief grasp he had on her as she fell.
Ranta had apparently been making a habit of falling from great heights, but thankfully there was always someone to catch her. Or rather something. Bursting through the cover of water, was the dark form of Vaemarr with angry and determined tan eyes, mouth extended wide open for all to see. The Naylor felt her back hit something wet and slimy before she was surrounded by darkness and the sound of something splashing down into the water filled her ears.
Back on the ship's deck, stood the Unsullied and captain Penrose with their own jaws slack and eyes wide from what they had just witnessed. "He...He just ate her... He ate her! Her own beastie is sliding the queen down his gullet as we speak. I thought-!" the sea captain was cut off by another fire ball hitting the ship. "Damn it! I'm sick of this. Return fire you worthless sea dogs! I haven't lost a single ship in combat and today will not be that day!"
0o.0o.0o.0.o0.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.
Much attention had fallen on Mereen. A lot of it, especially with its' queen gone. But it made his job that much easier. During the months away from the grand city, Jorah spent his time keeping watch over Astapor and Yunkai. There had been a few scornful whispers floating about the demise of the Storm queen but the Mormont quickly stomped those out personally.
After completing as much work as he could with the aid of the Dothraki on the roads, Jorah had managed to convince the usual group of Dothraki he worked with to stay behind while he went by himself to Volantis. The Mormont was pretty sure that had he not been taking a ship to get to the free city, they would have followed nonetheless.
The aging bear had slipped his way into the city without much trouble, got himself familiar with the slummest of areas and the people there. But unluckily, or rather luckily, depending how he looked at it - someone had recognized the Mormont while he was in a whore house having a drink, despite not wearing any clothing that identified who the man was allied with.
"Oh dear, do my eyes dare deceive me? Jorah the Andal, lurking about in the slums with the rest of the rats." Jorah looked up and seen the very man who had contributed to his exile in the first place. "Varys." the Mormont returned stiffly, focusing back on his drink and inwardly cursing when the bald man sat down at his booth across from him. However, when a second person joined him, Jorah looked up again and spotted a heavily cloaked man he never thought he would see on this side of the Narrow Sea. Tyrion Lannister.
"Do try and calm yourself, I hardly think a maester would be able to get here in time should your heart give out from shock." Varys commented lightly at the facial expression Jorah had been sporting, smiling in thanks to a scantily dressed woman who walked up and brought a round of drinks to the trio of men.
The muscles in Jorah's face twitched rapidly at the sight of the two men in front of him, the bear would be lying if he said he wasn't tempted to cut both their heads off and dump them at Ranta's feet as a gift. But thankfully, he knew that it would not help his case. She'd only look at him with the same fear and betrayal she had on the night he confessed.
"He does know how to speak doesn't he?" Tyrion asked, lowering his hood and clinking his glass to Varys' and Jorahs' before drinking its' contents. "Well if he's forgotten how to speak, I know for sure that he knows how to write at the very least." Varys mused, sniffing at his drink before following Tyrion's example. At this particular moment two prostitutes walked by, one silvery blonde and dressed in a sky blue dress styled to show her bare arse cheeks and another who had mediocre dyed blue hair with hints of green in it and dressed in a cream colored dress that showed ample cleavage and plenty of rear end. Daenerys and Ranta, Jorah noted to himself with a frown though could not ignore the desire that lingered within him.
"I thought you said Ranta's hair was blue, not blue with green?" Tyrion remarked, eyeing the woman. "Oh it is." Varys said, " It's easy for a ravenette to bleach their hair to blonde if it'll lead them to bigger wages and the same can be said for blondes who need to stain their hair to black with coal or ink to get better pay. But unfortunately for them, the blondes cannot get the blue they desire for too long. Eventually the blueberry paste or ink will wear away and leave them with the greenish color you see now. And the dark haired women cannot get their hair to a blueish color without bleaching their locks and then re-staining it - too much damage to the hair so they leave it to the blondes to try and mimic our fair lady."
Tyrion hummed in understanding, taking a drink from his cup and them motioning to the woman who accompanied the Ranta imposter, "And I take it that, that is supposed to be Daenerys Targaryen?" he assumed. Varys nodded in confirmation but it was Jorah who spoke, "She is the Khaleesi of the Great Grass sea and sister to Queen Ranta."
"Aahh, so he speaks. "Tyrion turned his head to acknowledge the Mormont along with Varys. "You both must be the dullest men alive to be sitting where you are." the exiled knight ignored the jab. "On the contrary I'd like to think I'm quite the opposite." the spymaster noted, earning a 'here, here!' from Tyrion. " Queen Ranta Naylor knows of your involvement with me" Jorah glared at Varys, " and she is fighting to get your family off the throne." he added towards the dwarf. "And yet here you both are, sitting in front of the commander of her armies as if we were old friends."
Varys ran a finger around the rim of his cup lightly, "Oh, so you kept your position within her army after all? One would think an exile or execution would be in order after such a betrayal, and yet here you are. Alive and well, pride and honor bruised beyond belief but still well nonetheless." Jorah winced and subconsciously curled in on himself, finding the table far more interesting.
Varys sighed regretfully at bringing up the sore subject, "We all make mistakes, we are human - it's in our nature. Sometimes we do things believing they are right, not knowing how badly we would come to regret it later...I like to believe that I understand that more than anyone...and clearly so does our queen if you are still alive." Tyrion turned his head to observe the activity in the brothel, keeping an ear on the conversation between the two bigger men with rapt attention.
"What did the queen say when she found out?" Varys wondered. "Nothing really." Jorah shook his head, "She told me that if I had been any other man then I would have been executed on the spot, said that she couldn't permanently banish me either. So the queen sent me away to do as I please until she summons me back to her side. And here I am after months of protecting the roads to her cities from slavers and squashing out whispers of rebellion."
The spymaster nodded at this and drinking from his own glass, "Ever merciful our queen is, but still not one to shy away from getting her hands dirty or away from war with the most powerful free city in all of Essos. Thankfully for us, war will not come to her - not yet anyways." he amended. Jorah's brow furrowed in confusion, "What do you mean?" he questioned.
"Lord Illyrio of Pentos and another ally of Lady Ranta's are in the city as we speak, talking the city Triarch's down from any future unnecessary conflicts. I am quite confident that they will succeed and any hostilities between Volantis and Slaver's Bay will be destroyed." Varys answered with ease. Jorah nodded at this bit of information but said nothing in response.
"What did you do?" Tyrion suddenly asked. Jorah and Varys both looked at the dwarf questionably, "What did you do to get sent away?" Tyrion clarified. "I sent letters to him about her." Jorah motioned to Varys, " For how long?" the curly haired man then asked. "...For a good while. Stopped when Daenerys was attacked at the market in Vaes Dothrak." Jorah answered. "And were you forced to tell her or did you confess?" the dwarf dug. "I confessed, why does any of this matter?" the Mormont narrowed his eyes.
Varys shifted as he too eyed the Lannister, "I do believe our friend here is trying to see why we side with the Naylorian queen." he mused off handedly. Jorah's eyes flickered back and forth between the two for a few moments before settling on the shorter of the two. "Do you believe in anything? Something greater than ourselves? Gods, destiny, a plan for this world?" the bear finally asked the lion.
"No." Tyrion shook his head. "Neither did I." Jorah agreed, " Then I saw this young woman with the bluest hair and a pair of eyes to match, call down the wrath of the gods upon the heads of two Dothraki hand maidens who had tried to take her younger sister away from her. I witnessed her take in creatures that others would shackle in chains or kill for sport, and raise them as her own. From city to city, I watched as thousands of freed men and slaves that had been freed - agree to fight for this foreign woman who came from across the Narrow sea. Queen Ranta has made things that seemed impossible, possible for this side of the world. She's changed hundreds of thousands of lives and not because she wants their support, but because it is what is right. Can you honestly tell me anyone that lives in Westeros that would do the same?" Jorah asked knowingly.
Tyrion would of liked to say he did, but he knew he'd only be lying to himself. "It's very hard to be a cynic after seeing that." Jorah tipped his glass back and slammed its contents down in one go. "There will be others who will not share your optimism, she has no legitimate claim-" Tyrion tried weakly but was cut off by the Mormont. "She does, Viserys was the next in line for the throne and before he died he named Ranta his heir. She has every right to the throne, just as much as the next Targaryen." Jorah signaled one of the workers for another round of alcohol to be brought to them.
"The Targaryens are famously insane-" Tyrion began once the fresh round of drinks had been brought but was interrupted by Varys this time no less, "And you're saying the Naylor's are?" he returned cooly. "Well considering who they've backed since the beginning of time." Tyrion shrugged but Jorah merely rolled his eyes and threw enough coin onto the table to pay for their drinks plus a tip before making to leave.
"If you want to support her then support her. But wither you support the Storm queen or not, it does not matter because one way or another Ranta Naylor will be climbing the steps to the Iron throne and you and any others who have a problem with this will have to come to terms with it and learn to call her queen." Sliding out of the booth, Jorah stood up and walked away from the duo without a backwards glance. Varys looked down upon his small companion with an unimpressed expression and allowed the silent judgement to eat at him until he could no longer take it.
"Wait… wait!" Tyrion called, getting in one last drink of his alcoholic beverage and chasing after the retreating Mormont with Varys on his heels. Back out into the bustling, crowded streets of the slums came the traveling duo - looking for the third member of their party. Tyrion spotted the pale yellow shirt and dirty blonde hair of the Mormont merging in with the crowd but with a steady trained eye, the Lannister was able to keep track of the man who always remained a few feet in front of the duo.
Could he have called out to the Mormont? Oh sure, but the last thing any of them needed was attention drawn to themselves, so when the trio had finally made their way out of the slums and to the better part of Volantis where their wheelhouse had been - Tyrion took this opportunity to run ahead and stop in front of the Mormont. A bit out of breath no less. Jorah said nothing as he stared down at the imp blocking his way and felt the presence of the spymaster behind him.
"We would very much appreciate if you joined us on our way to Mereen, but I am telling you now that if I have to spend another week in that wheel house without a break to socialize, I will lose my mind." Tyrion warned slowly. Jorah smirked and scratched at his beard, " We'll have to sail through Valyria either way. Until the slavers are brought under control, I don't want to travel by foot from here to Mereen. I made it here safety enough, it should be fine on the way back."
Tyrion spared a glance to Varys who had merely shrugged in response, "We can take the supplies from the wheelhouse, it should last us until we reach the city." the spymaster iterated to the duo. "What are we waiting for then? Let's get moving, we have a lot of water to cross if we want to get to Mereen." Jorah declared before moving around the dwarf that was now his traveling companion and led the duo through the streets of Volantis and to outside of its walls after obtaining the supplies Tyrion and Varys had with them.
Little had either of them known, that back in the slums in one of the open squares had been a red priestess preaching to a crowd of slaves. "Lord cast your light upon us. For the night is dark and full of terrors!" she led the sermon, waiting for the crowd to finish repeating her words back to her.
"Lord cast your light upon us. For the night is dark and full of terrors!"
"I was once as you are now, bought and sold, scourged and branded. The lord of light hears your voice. He hears you as he hears the king, he hears the stone men and their misery and he has sent us a savior. From amongst fire and flame did she rise, heaven and earth trembles at her fury. The sky answers her call! She was brought to us to chase away the monsters in the dark of the night, and she was brought to us to save us from the terrors in the daylight. The Storm queen! Ranta Naylor is the storm the Lord of Light gave us, she is the storm reshaping the world!"
0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.0.0o.0o.0o.0o.0o.
They say you never forget the smell of burning flesh or the screams of a dying man and it was safe to say that Ranta was more than qualified to speak on behalf of this saying. "They attacked us first." Grey Worm's words echoed through her ears. " I know." she had heard herself reply. "Had you not given the command, they would of set fire to the ships anyways." he spoke again. "I know." the woman echoed.
"How many people did we lose in the attack, on both ships?" Ranta watched as crew men limped about on deck with wounds either freshly banadged or that had yet to be bandaged. "A handful of crewmen killed on both ships, and at least a dozen injured but it could have been worse." Grey Worm reported.
"The captain?"
"One of the ones injured."
"The quartermaster?"
"Dead"
Ranta sighed heavily, rubbing her temples tiredly as she thought back on the events that had happened not too long ago. Oh gross, she was not where she thought she was. Vaemarr wouldn't be so cruel but when she felt the serpents tongue shift under her back, she knew he would be that cruel. "Keep calm, Ranta, you are just in a giant snakes mouth...it could be worse, you could of fallen into the water" the woman spoke to herself, wincing when Vaemarr's slimy tongue continued to move underneath her frame.
"Open your mouth and let me out." Ranta whispered, "Open your mouth and let me out!" the woman cried louder slapping her hand against the top of Vaemarr's mouth. The vibrations that went through her frame were great when the behemoth hummed in acknowledgement to her demands.
Faintly the exotic woman could hear the rumble of thunder and boom of lightning outside but there was also the booming of fireballs hitting the surface of the ships. Surfacing lightly, Vaemarr cracked his mouth open far enough for Ranta to crawl through and to use the curved horns on the sides of his mouth to pull herself out and then climb up onto his head with a bit of difficulty considering the hurdles the rain and wind provided along with the waves from the water below.
Once safely aboard the armored beast, Ranta stumbled when her carrier began stealthily moving towards the enemy's ship that had been bombarding the ship where Grey Worm and the others were. Out of the corner of her eye, Ranta was able to spot Laemyx surfacing and traveling along side the two, an unhappy look in his eye to match his brothers'. Maneuvering behind the attacking ship without being noticed, the two serpents rose well out of the water and plenty above the surface of the deck - giving Ranta a good view of the offending men and watching as they all slowly came to a stop once they seen the two beasts standing before them with a woman standing at command.
Growling in synch, Vaemarr and Laemyx effectively caused quite a few to back away slowly as if it would help the situation at hand. Another boom of thunder and flash of lightning was the last thing those men registered before they heard one word escape passed the lips of the blue haired woman.
"Ignite."
Ranta squeezed her eyes shut as the screams of the dying seemed to amplify in her head the more she thought about it. "My queen, what do you want done with the prisoners?" Grey Worm questioned, referring to the crew of the second ship that had attacked the Iron Giant- currently tied up to be left in the middle of the deck with weapons stripped and wounds untreated.
Looking over her shoulder towards the cluster of men, Ranta began walking towards them without a word with her guards on her heels. This action had caught the attention of the ships crew who had stopped whatever they were doing to watch their queen stop before the now tense captives who looked up at her warily and in fear. "Grab three of them, and choose two other Unsullied to question them with you below deck. Find out who they work for and why they attacked. Use any means necessary."
Grey Worm nodded in understanding before beckoning to two soldiers to accompany him in the task given. "My queen?" a familiar rough voice called from behind her, Ranta turned and seen it had been Captain Penrose limping over to her. "You should be resting." Ranta admonished lightly. "And you should be digesting in your snakes belly from what I seen, but appearances aren't always what they seem. I've been hurt worse than a sore leg." the captain shrugged.
"But injuries aside that's not why I am here" the captain began but was cut off by a crew man calling out. " Captain! Ship off the port bow" the man reported from the crows nest above, alerting the rest of the people on board. "Oh for fuck's sake!" the woman yelled at the top of her lungs out of frustration before making for the helm. "Are they making to attack?!" Penrose asked heatedly. "No, they're….they're…" the man trailed off in disbelief at what he had seen.
"What in the seven hells is your problem boy, have you forgotten how to speak?!" the captain shouted. "They're waving a white flag, captain. They're coming to meet us peacefully." the look out reported. "What flag are they flying?" Penrose asked. " Grey cross bones, black backround." the captain's eyed widened at this brought to light. "Well, would you look at that, your grace. Looks like you get to meet your isle pirates after all." the woman mused a bit distractedly as she turned the ship's wheel slightly to line it up beside the other ship. Ranta said nothing as she watched the pirate ship steadily get closer and closer until its crew abruptly dropped anchor and harshly turned its wheel to the right - forcing the wooden carrier to whip around back towards the direction it came from.
"Run inta a spot o' tro'ble, did ya, Ol' Glory?" the supposed male captain of the pirate ship called over knowingly as its ccrew brought the anchor up once more. "What makes you think that? You don't like the new style we're taking on? Battered but still going on strong?" Penrose returned with a motion to her ship. "N'ver said I didn' like it." the man argued good naturedly
" Good, because it's the new style now a days, would you like me to help ya get caught up to the trend?" the woman smirked. " No thank ya, I'm ol' fash'ned. What ya can do for me though, is show me the Naylor ya have on board." Old Glory's occupants tensed heavily at this and glared at the other occupants. "Such ugly looks from the lot of ya, what fore?" the man grinned knowingly. "You show me yours and I'll show you mine." Penrose responded evenly.
"Didn' know this was a cock measuring contest." a sly feminine voice rang out, causing attention to fall upon the source. Ranta tried peaking through the gaps between her shoulders but the men were locked together tightly. Penrose narrowed her eyes on the other ship as its crew members brought forward a moderately sized wooden board long enough to reach across the water and hook onto her ship should they want to board, which is exactly what they did. "But in comparison I know yours will be bigger than mine. Tarla Naylor, at your service." the voice rang out again though Penrose was unable to find a source for it.
Despite the waves rocking the ships, the makeshift bridge stayed in place between the two ships and was even tested by a handful of armed pirates crossing and boarding the Old Glory. The female captain narrowed her eyes on the mangy pirates that had dared step aboard without permission, "Oi, oi! Get your filthy arses off my ship before I string your pebbles up and wear 'em as good luck charms!" the woman barked from her position at the wheel.
The crew men, bless their hearts, as beaten and battered as they were still tensed and placed their hands at their swords and daggers - ready to defend their ship, captain and hidden queen with the Unsullied right behind them.
"Ooooo~ Fiesty, fiesty, fiesty Mereen." from out of the crowd on the other ship stepped a pale woman apparently dubbed Tarla with a devious smirk on her face. Stepping a board the wooden bridge, she too crossed and boarded the other woman's ship. For some unknown reason to everyone outside of the Unsullied, one of the spear armed guards took his weapon and pounded it firmly into the wood of the ships deck.
Bang. Threat
Bang. Is
Bang. Approaching
Bang. The
Bang. Queen
The minor break in formation blocking Ranta's view had allowed her to finally get a view on the last person to cross the wooden bridge and onto their ship. There stood the woman whose attention had been captured by the stotic warrior's actions. Her lips were as red as blood and as she smiled toothily, she had shown the world that her teeth were the purist color of white. Her hair was dark brown, bordering black and just whispered above her shoulders and her eyes had been a piercing ice blue. That was all the young queen was able to see before her sight was blocked by an armored shoulder once more.
"Well, would you look at that... Unsullied dogs." a bitter taste filled Ranta's mouth at the disrespect her apparent cousin had shown to the men who had dedicated their lives to the blue haired Naylor. "Thought it was just a rumor when we heard you had been freed, but if you're here now and chompin' at the bit to tear into me and my boys as you are…" the sound of footsteps approaching echoed in the otherwise silent air, " that means the Queen of Mereen is here. Yes?" the woman's voice was closer now.
"Pirate," Penrose called warningly, "Keep taunting them like that and I cannot guarantee nor care if you end up with a spear in yer gut. Back up." she ordered sternly. The female pirate grinned in responce and raised a foot to take a step closer but stopped when an unfamiliar voice sounded. "Step aside, weapons at the ready." Ranta commanded firmly.
Without hesitation, the Unsullied blockade parted in synch to reveal the Storm Queen herself. The red lipped brunette blinked once at the sight before her. So this was the storm destined to sweep over Westeros...House Naylor's redemption... the salvation of Slaver's Bay and beyond. Her little cousin. It had been years since she seen the blue haired girl who now clearly a woman, and a strong one at that. There was no forgetting that hair or eyes once you've seen it once.
Unknowingly, the female pirate took a small step forwards and would of no doubt been impaled by one of the Unsullied had a strong hand not jerked her back two steps and place a knife at her neck. "The Queen did not say you may approach" Grey Worm's thickly accented voice growled in common into the law breaking woman's ear.
The pirate's companions all tensed and was ready to come to her aide but was deterred by Old Glory's own ship members standing at the ready. "Fair enough but keep yer hands off'a me." the woman glared heatedly back at the soldier and wripped her arm from his grasp but was otherwise unable to move. Moving her icey glare off of the man holding her hostage and back onto her family, the Naylor's gaze softened significantly.
"I realize we do not know each other well despite being family but do you think you could call your dogs off? Apologies for offending by approaching without permission." the last part of her statement had been a bit sarcastic and directed towards Grey Worm but the rest seemed genuine.
Ranta stared unblinking at the woman who was family, a million thoughts flying through her pretty blue head. But throughout the chaos raging in her mind, Ranta was able to focus on what was important at the moment. "My name is Ranta of House Naylor, First of my name, Heir to the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros, The Storm queen, Queen of Mereen, Queen of the Andals and First men, Queen of the Unsullied, Little Sister of the Dothraki, Liberator of Slavers Bay, and Mother of beasts. I stand here in order to make a deal with Tarla of House Naylor, leader and savior of the Basilisk Isles, bane to the Naath and the Summer Isles."
It was silent for a long moment. Silent for so long that Ranta was wondering if she had slipped into another language when speaking. However when the captive brunette looked down at the wooden deck below and licked her red lips, those thoughts were cast away. The message had been clear, there was no love or favor between the Queen and the pirate. And Tarla couldn't help but understand and admittedly fear it.
"I'm listening."