Disclaimer: The Game of Thrones TV series and A Song of Ice and Fire books are the sole property of HBO and G.R.R. Martin. All characters depicted here, besides my OC(s), belong to their legitimate owners.

Fair Warning: Some words or phrases used in this story may be offensive to certain parties. Please understand it is done for the sake of realism and authenticity in regards to the story and the characters. The opinions, thoughts, and/or actions of a character or group of characters does not reflect those of the author. Thank you.

V

Anthony

There was just something so endearing about watching her reaction to the music. The look of wonder and amazement in Daenerys' eyes, which only grew as the track continued. Anthony was never a big listener of Classical, having grown up in New York City on the Hip Hop and Pop of the 1990s and 2000s, but he figured she'd have favored one of the select few Mozart and Bach pieces he had on his iPod 6 instead. His assumption, that the old and regal form of music would appeal much more to her 'nobility', proved to be correct. He couldn't hold back the smile.

With her baby-smooth skin, dazzling eyes, full lips, and silky hair of a color that shouldn't have been natural by all rights, she truly was a heartbreakingly beautiful woman.

"I thought you'd like that," he said when the track ended. He removed his earbud and peered into her purple, awaiting her coming opinion.

Contrary to her moody attitude from before, her soft voice gave truth to her current delight. "That was amazing." She removed her earbud as well and turned to him then, meeting his gaze. "How were you able to do that?"

The marine held up his iPod. "Modern technology."

Daenerys appeared skeptical of his answer, but the corner of her lips managed to rise in a small half-smile. "You jest. How can anything but magic produce music from something so small?"

"Magic doesn't exist," he declared with an amused chuckle. "Where I come from, society is thousands of years ahead of yours. What would look like magic to you is science to me."

She snorted, possibly for being offended. "And are you sure this 'science', as you call it, isn't the same thing as magic?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure," he smirked playfully. He shifted around some on the bed and made himself more comfortable for the conversation. This wasn't at all a topic he had planned on discussing. He was still getting used to the idea he was in a different world or alternate universe, after all. Sounds batshit crazy just thinking about it. "Science isn't some sort of unexplainable force that makes the impossible possible on a person's whim." He took another moment to think about how he would explain things further before continuing. "'Science' is more like a general label for... systems of knowledge that use general laws and proven truths to find outcomes. Like, how to calculate the trajectory of a rock launched by a catapult would be 'mathematical science,' while studying the anatomy of an animal would be 'biological science.'" He scratched the back of his head and grunted. "It's kinda hard to explain. But it can be explained, if you get what I'm saying."

The self-proclaimed queen spent some time thinking over his explanation. As time passed along, however, she looked to grow more in confusion rather than understanding. "That doesn't explain the eye-pod, as you call it."

Realizing he couldn't really do that without explaining a ton of other crap, he laughed. It would be better to go through all of that another time. He was a marine, not some damn school teacher; he knew how to shoot things, not explain things. Save the headache for later, he figured. "That's way too much information to get into. A lot of it I don't even really know." He pulled his iPod back up and reinserted its earbud, the other still being in Daenerys' hand. "How about we save that for next time and just listen to some more music?"

Her lips suddenly lifted into a small smile. Damn, she's hot when she smiles, he mentally concluded before he could reel in that train of thought, as well as notice the smile's tiny hint of mischief. "If you were anyone else, anywhere else, I would have seen that as an attempt to be romantic."

Anthony's eyes and smile widened; a sense of humor coming from her was not something he had predicted. "Wow," was all he could say in between laughter. "I'm offended."

"Are you," she asked and giggled. Giggled.

"Hell yeah. I can be romantic if I want!"

"That is hard to believe, Anthony Lehmann."

Hearing her say his name this time, with a pleasant sentiment rather than cold authority or heated annoyance, was a great feeling. Naturally, just as it would be for any other fully-grown heterosexual man at his ripe age, hearing a solid ten-out-of-ten talk like that was a life goal come true. "If you don't believe me, I can always go listen to music by myself."

"Is that a threat or a bribe?"

He shrugged. "However you wanna to see it. Maybe I just want to be alone with my music?"

"You offered it, not I." The smile on her face was much bigger now, and it served as a good sign of her pleasure with the conversation. Much better than when she first came in.

"I can't change my mind? That ain't fair."

"Many things in life aren't fair."

"Really? Damn, I had no idea."

And for the first time since the two met, Daenerys genuinely laughed. Anthony thought the sound was angelic. "You really are strange."

"I can say the same for you." He grinned at her following chuckle, still staring into those amazing eyes of hers. "So how about we strange people get back to the music?"

"Alright," she surrendered with a sigh, though still smiling. "But we will continue our discussion on this 'science' of yours later."

"Yeah, yeah. Later." He looked to his iPod, then began scrolling through the installed songs. "So what kind of music do you wanna hear this time?"

She appeared to be surprised by his question. "How many kinds of music can you possibly play?"

The marine thought her question odd, before quickly remembering the circumstances and turning back to her. "Pretty much anything you can think of, and probably more. There are a lot of forms of music where I come from that you've never heard before. I don't think you'd like most of it, to be honest." He rubbed his chin, which is when he finally took notice of his growing facial hair. Will have to take care of that. "It's all really different from what you heard before."

Telling her this only seemed to make her more curious. "What I heard before; 'Classical,' you called it? Is that what you normally listen to?"

"Not at all," he chuckled. "You definitely wouldn't like what I usually listen to."

She narrowed her eyes and seemed to pout a little. It was cute. "And how would you know if you don't let me listen to it?"

"Because, well..." He groaned; there wasn't an easy answer to that. He wasn't one hundred percent certain if she would hate old school Hip Hip and Pop, but he highly doubted she would like it either. Daenerys was a woman of upper class and majesty. Classical and Orchestral would be her go-to genres. Modern music? It was a long shot. "I don't know. Call it a gut feeling."

"Gut feeling or not, it would be rude to offer me a choice only to then deny the one I make." There was a hint of that authoritarian tone from earlier building up again. "I want to hear the kind of music your people listen to you. Maybe a song you like."

Lehmann paused before he could make a comment on her assertiveness. "Why a song I particularly like?"

"I think I'd like to hear it," she claimed without hesitation. "Music that means something to you."

Music that means something to me... I could give her that.

His grin simmered down to a small smile. "Are you sure? I still don't think you'll like it."

She momentarily looked away and seemed to contemplate his final warning. Then, she looked back into his eyes with determination and nodded. "I don't care. I want to hear it."

After several seconds of silence, he accepted her wish. "Alright." He found the track on his iPod in a quick moment.

—

'The List'
[Track #1: D12 – The Good Die Young]

Press Play?

—

[Dialogue]
Dawg, I shouldn't have left.
They wouldn't have tried this shit if I was with ya.
Maybe we would've picked another time,
Or maybe, chose another way.
Or maybe my prayers would have convinced him to choose another soul.

Shit, it's just me and my man Tony now.
Man, you look so peaceful right now.
How can I argue with that?
They say...
[Dialogue]

(They say) the good die young,
That's why I think you should have fun (when you're young),
'Cos time won't wait for no one (uh huh),
When God calls, you gotta go home (go home).

They say the good die young (die young),
That's why I know that we go' have fun,
'In this life you only get one,
When God calls for me, don't cry I just went home.

"This was made by a group of singers called D Twelve," he said as the somber beat of the song and lyrics continued. "Close group of friends. They were really popular with the Rap crowd when I was little."

But, I guess that's the way things go,
I was blessed to see 24 (24),
To wake up to that "Hi, my name is..." video,
Motivated me to write what I wrote.

"Rap is like poetry rhyming turned into music, but less... classy, than actual poetry.

"Anyways, one day before he was supposed to perform in a show, a member of D Twelve nicknamed Bugz was spending time at a park with a couple of his pals when some gangsters started fuckin' with 'em. An argument started, things escalated, and next thing they know one of the guys pulls out a rifle and BANG." Anthony emphasized with his fingers, making a 'gun' with them and motioning as if it fired. "Bugz gets shot in the chest and neck. Doctors can't save him when he gets to the hospital, and he dies later that day.

"'The Good Die Young' is the song's name. It was written and sung by the other D Twelve members, in dedication to their dead friend."

He looked away from his iPod, and momentarily wondered at how a conversation could take such turns. Daenerys was bickering with him at one point, laughing with him the next, and now he was listening to a song he probably shouldn't have been. Not finding an immediate answer, he once again locked gazes with the woman in question. But as he stared into her eyes this time, and saw nothing more than a warm compassion, he was dumbfounded. There was some small understanding and... sympathy there. It wasn't right. She shouldn't have been looking at him like that. With an expression of pity.

But I can't and you was so close to seein' dreams,
A coward came along and took you away from the team.
So don't mistake this track, it's just another song,
This goes out to everyone who lost a loved one,
'Cos you know.

Anthony chose to avoid those painfully beautiful violet orbs for the rest of the song. He didn't want to see the emotions she carried, even though he could almost feel her eyes upon him. He didn't want to think about the implications, even though he already had a good idea what they were. The past wasn't something he wanted to remember at that moment.

Maybe he shouldn't have turned on the song.

They say the good die young...

—

The self-proclaimed queen had left his chambers soon afterwards, giving nothing more than a simple goodbye and promise of a later return. She hadn't provided her feelings on the song either. Anthony didn't know if that was a good thing or not, although a lack of blatant distaste certainly wasn't bad, and instead decided to find out was best saved for future discussion. Truthfully, he doubted she liked it much at all. It probably would have been better off; if she didn't like it, she wouldn't ask to listen to it.

So, he was left to his own devices, once again with little more to do than sit and wait. Waiting was something he was accustomed to. Though he hated it, there was plenty of it in military life, more than most outside the Armed Forces usually thought, and it was the one thing in this scenario that he found familiar. When an average civilian imagined life in the military, they typically pictured a day-to-day living filled with adventure and action. It wasn't until they enlisted, struggled through boot camp, and got sent to a unit did they learn just how much time there was to kill. Especially if they were deployed. Of course, once on a battlefield with bullets flying, one didn't think it was a boring affair. But those stretches of time in between combat were long, and a Marine didn't have much in the way of entertainment when in the middle of some backwards Middle Eastern country. All he had during those gaps between battle were his fellow Marines, exercise, and his own imagination. Now, stuck in some foreign lands under the 'care' of an impassioned monarch, Anthony had concluded he was the lone American in this unknown city, and he had already scratched off exercise for the day. All that remained was his imagination – an imagination that hastily decided, in all its wisdom, that it would focus its attention on said monarch. Particularly the personal differences between him and the young silver-haired woman.

Anthony grew up as an everyday middle-class American citizen in the concrete jungle of the Big Apple, the Bronx specifically. Hip Hop and Pop was all he listened to as a child for the most part. Though he eventually came to enjoy most other forms of music as well, anyone who knew him well enough wouldn't have considered it a surprise that those were his two favorite genres. Daenerys, however, was raised in an entirely different environment; this strange world of Essos and Westeros. From his understanding, her childhood was of a liking to nobility in a pseudo-medieval age. Everything in her life was of a higher social class. Quality music was likely more in-tune to Classical orchestra, hence why Bach was his first selection for her. They were two completely different people, of two completely different upbringings. She was a queen in a world of monarchs. Anthony wondered if she had ever even heard of the phrase 'Human Rights' before. He, on the other hand, was pretty much a cliché of the United States Marine. Patriotic, freedom-loving, badass – in his own bias opinion – and tyrant-hating out the get-go. Daenerys was, in every artificial way, the figure of oppression that opposed the very ideals and principals he stood up for as an American.

But something was wrong with that picture.

For all the ways she found to act like a bitch, she didn't seem to be the common dictator one would expect of a monarch. He really didn't know what to think of her. Every time he formed an opinion of the woman, she did or said something that threw it out the window. And while her mood swings weren't entirely abnormal of her gender, especially if it was that time of the month, her case was sometimes rattling. One moment she would be this stereotypical despot, essentially carrying an aura that said, 'it's my way or no way.' In the next, she would laugh and act like a typical, albeit spoiled and slightly snooty, teenage girl. Daenerys Targaryen was a conundrum, and he assumed she thought the same of him.

BOOM

The moment it happened, Anthony almost jumped off the bed, his Marine instincts yelling at him to pick up the weapon that wasn't at his side. His only accomplishment was grasping air and placing an overt amount of pressure on his injured leg, causing him to wince slightly. It still wasn't fully healed. He didn't expect to it be after such a short recovery time since receiving the wound, but it also wasn't nearly as bad off as it should have been considering he had done some basic exercises. Something to think about later.

The sound was all too familiar. An explosion. But not a loud one, so it was either in the distance or a relatively small device. A small one, he concluded; he had felt the shockwave of the blast, however feint it was. A grenade, or something equivalent to it. That determination made him wonder. If this world was truly stagnant in some form of the Dark Ages, where wars were still fought with swords and bows, how could someone have obtained an explosive? He certainly wasn't an expert on this world's history; perhaps Gun Powder was already discovered but had yet to see widespread usage? The Marine shook his head. He'd only been up for a single day, and the majority of that time had been spent in the room he had woken up in. Not enough time to truly learn anything. Regardless, he didn't have much of a moment to think on it. He needed to act quickly. Assess and React.

With a barely noticeable limp, he moved to the door of his chambers. Lehmann had ditched the cane Daenerys' people had given him after an hour. He hated feeling disabled; disabled Marines couldn't fight. A few seconds passed after knocking three times on the wooden surface. No response. He opened the door, noting the lack of a sentry outside, and took his first unsupervised steps outside his bedroom. Guard goes AWOL at the first sign of trouble, the Marine thought curiously. These guys ain't a disciplined bunch.

Without hesitation, he took the opportunity presented before him.

CHAPTER END