In Essos, somewhere in the mountains…
The Dragon Queen and her army of followers had been on the march for a long time now. Among the most noticeable individuals accompanying Daenerys Targaryen was her handmaiden Missandei, Grey Worm, Daario Naharis and Jon Connington. She had not received any word on Jorah Mormont after exiling him once Connington revealed the bear knight had been spying on her, but she didn't care. Mormont had betrayed her trust, and she swore she'd never forgive him for that. With Astapor and Yunkai liberated, Daenerys set course for Meereen.
Yet this constant walking on the road in the scorching heat, Daenerys was adamant that the Second Sons and Unsullied stay the course with her.
"Have you ever been to Meereen?" she asked Missandei.
She nodded. "Several times, Your Grace, with Master Kraznys."
"And?"
"They say a thousand slaves died building the Great Pyramid of Meereen."
Daenerys frowned at the story. "And now an army of former slaves is marching to her gates. You think the Great Masters are worried?"
"If they're smart, Your Grace," Missandei stated.
"Best be prepared for anything," Connington reminded them. "No doubt word has already reached them of what happened at Astapor and Yunkai. Underestimate your opponent, you pay the price."
"Your counsel is taken under advisement, Lord Connington," Daenerys remarked. "But it's my decision to make."
Before Jon could even open his mouth to speak, the group came to a sudden stop as Daenerys held her arm up. What stood before them had left their mouths open in shock and horror. A little slave girl, couldn't have been more than nine or ten years of age, had been crucified upon a wooden cross. Judging by the coloring of her skin and how thin she was, the child had been dead for quite some time.
"There's one on every mile marker between here and Meereen," Jon pointed out.
Daenerys continued staring at the dead slave girl. "How many miles are there?"
Connington knew that tone in the Dragon Queen's voice, full of disgust and anger at such cruelty.
"163," he answered. "I'll tell our men to ride ahead and bury them. You don't need to see this."
"You will do no such thing," Daenerys shook her head. "I will see each and every one of their faces. Remove her collar before you bury her."
The Dragon Queen gently kicked the side of her horse and motioned for it to move forward, which the animal neighed in compliance. Jon, Missandei, Grey Worm, and Daario along with the Unsullied and Second Sons marched forward behind Daenerys; they could tell that seeing the crucified, dead slave girl lit a fire in her eyes. It was something they hadn't thought about seeing, but they followed Daenerys onward to Meereen to end the horrid practice of slavery and all its harsh punishments with it once and for all. Jon Connington, however, took notice of Daenerys' posture rather closely. He didn't let his expressions made public, but something seemed to unsettle him a bit.
It took several days but once they rose to the highest point of the hill, their faces were mired in surprise. Smoke was rising from the nearest horizon towards their destination and a faint noise was slowly growing louder. Meereen, the greatest of the three great city-states of Slaver's Bay was within sight, but it looked as if it was currently besieged by an unknown force.
"What's going on here…?" pondered Daario.
"A siege," Jon answered, "Or an uprising. If the slaves are indeed rebelling, then they won't last long against the Great Masters."
"So we're marching into a slaughter, then?"
"We won't know unless we get a closer look, lad. If we are to do something, then it must be done now. With every minute we waste here, thousands of people will die."
Daenerys stood firm. "That will not happen," she declared before turning to face her forces.
"Rȳ bisa hill stands gō ao Meereen, skoriot thousands bē thousands hen slaves issi fighting syt pōja freedom. Yn lī qilōni emagon wronged ao nykeēdrosa ōregon pōja collars. Pōja prūmi issi hae zōbrie hae se hells hen istin pōnta māzigon. Pōnta laodigon se ossēnagon riñar mijegon mercy, cause daorun yn ōdres se munnon. Dōrī forget se horrors pōnta inflicted bē ao rȳ Astapor, rȳ Yunkai! Istin ao istan slaves qilōni istan ivestretan skoros naejot gaomagon, yn ry hen ao issi dāez naejot mazverdagon aōha decisions. Ivestragī īlva remind aōha evildoers se pirta decision hen raising nykeā qilōny va lī qilōni daor mīsagon pōntāla! (Beyond this hill stands before you Meereen, where thousands upon thousands of slaves are fighting for their freedom. But those who have wronged you still hold their collars. Their hearts are as black as the hells from once they came. They steal and murder children without mercy, cause nothing but pain and sorrow. Remember the horrors they inflicted upon you at Astapor, at Yunkai! Once you were slaves who were told what to do, but all of you are free to make your own choices. Let us remind your enemies what happens when they dare raise a whip on those who cannot defend themselves!)"
On que, the Unsullied and Second Sons got into formation and charged into the nearest breach. Upon entering, they saw the streets in chaos; countless innocents screamed as the Great Masters' lackeys indiscriminately slaughtering those who believed to have supported the uprising while others took up arms and fought back.
"Va nyke, ñuha lēkia! (Form up, my brothers!)" Grey Worm hollered in Low Valyrian. "Vīlībagon syt Daenerys Jelmāzmo! (Fight for Daenerys Stormborn!)"
One after another, each Unsullied quickly moved to take on the Great Masters' forces―each of the warrior-eunuchs leapt forward and thrusted with their spears in hand, impaling several of their adversaries without mercy and taking them completely by surprise. Before they could even had a chance of reacting, Grey Worm swung his shield and bashed it into one of the Meereenese slavers' face.
*BAM!*
The force of the impact had caved in his face and fell to the ground hard.
"Se dovaogēdy! (The Unsullied!)" one of the Ghiscari slave soldiers shouted. "Ossēnagon zirȳ! Ossēnagon zirȳ ry! (Kill them! Kill them all!)"
Responding to the seemingly invasion of an unfamiliar force, the slavers redirected their attention towards the Unsullied and Second Sons mercenaries. Blades clashed, shouts and curses were thrown, and bodies soon piled on the streets. Grey Worm and Daario Naharis were putting up a good fight, taking down their enemies left and right.
"Morghūljagon! (Die!)"
Before Grey Worm could even have a chance to react, the Ghiscari who tried to strike the eunuch – however, his movements immediately ceased when a sword pierced through his neck.
"BLERGH!"
Grey Worm turned to see Jon Connington pulling his blade out and bashing the Ghiscari with his bare fists as he went down.
"Keep your sense sharp, and don't let your guard down for even a minute, boy!" Jon hollered.
Grey Worm's facial expression didn't appear to change. "This is your idea of motivating me?" he tried to speak in Common Tongue.
"You decide."
When they finally regathered themselves, the trio had begun to push forward into Meereen. Slavers and rebels continued either fighting or fleeing. Once Grey Worm, Jon and Daario finished off an enemy squad, one of the female rebels noticed them and rose what appears to be a small kitchen knife at them.
"Qilōni issi ao? (Who are you?)" she asked in Low Valyrian. "Issi ao rūsīr se buzdari āeksia? (Are you with the slave masters?)"
Grey Worm shook his head. "īlon vīlībagon syt se zaldrīzes dāria. īlon vīlībagon syt dāerves. (We fight for the Dragon Queen. We fight for freedom)," he replied.
"You got a name pretty thing?" Daario asked flirtingly.
She glared at Daario. Her stance didn't waver, showing neither hostility nor submission towards those she had never met.
"Zhalimda Hahzuz," she tried to answer in the Common Tongue. "That's all you'll get from me."
Jon stepped forth; his height appeared to tower over Zhalimda in an intimidating fashion. "Lord Jon Connington of Westeros, chief advisor to Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen," he introduced himself. "These… companions with me are Grey Worm, commander of the Unsullied; and Daario Naharis, commander of the Second Sons."
Zhalimda glanced at all three of them, studying them closely. "You here to fight?" she asked.
Before one of them could answer, arrows began raining down – hitting several rebels and a few Unsullied as others dived for cover. Zhalimda hid behind one of the nearest alleyways with Jon, Grey Worm and Daario in tow.
"Konīr's se buzdari! (There's the slave!)" one of the Ghiscari slavers shouted. "Ossēnagon zȳhon se se tolie hae sȳrī! (Kill her and the others as well)!"
Zhalimda snarled. Once the arrows stopped descending, she stepped out of cover as she turned to her temporary partners.
"That's it! You either fight or run!" she barked at them. Zhalimda turned to her fellow rebel slaves and shouted orders. "ȳdra daor ivestragī bē, valonqar se hāedar. Indigon se buzdari āeksia arlī! Vīlībagon syt aōha dāerves! (Don't let up, brothers and sisters! Push the slave masters back! Fight for your freedom!)"
Unarmored and grabbing whatever they could use as weapons, the rebel slaves mustered their courage once more and ran towards their foes. Jon looked on before gazing at Grey Worm and Daario.
"The masters have more men and weapons," Grey Worm tactically analyzed the situation. "Without our help, the slaves of Meereen will be butchered like animals. We'll need to cut off access to their weapons storage and stop the enemy from getting more aid."
Jon nodded. "Well put, boy. Daario, you know your way around the streets. Best get to it."
Daario looked smug. "Well, I was the last to join the Dragon Queen's army, Westerosi. I'm not a general like your or a member of her Queensguard or commander of the Unsullied," he said. "My mother was a whore. I come from nothing. I will return to nothing. So if I have to fight, I'll fight. It's something I've done my whole life."
"Just do it!" the old Griffin's Roost lord snapped.
Daario rolled his eyes humorously and separated from the main group, whilst Jon and Grey Worm marched forward with the remaining Unsullied and Second Sons to assist the rebels in their desperate bid against the Great Masters of Meereen. Daario ran from alleyway to alleyway, sneaking past the Ghiscari soldiers and gathered whatever weapons and armor as he possibly could. With luck on his side, the Second Sons commander managed to find whatever slaves who were still chained up and unshackled them.
"Kesīr, dīnagon these va. (Here, put these on)," he told them as he passed around weapons and armor. "Find tolie raqagon yourselves se pryjagon pōja belma. Gō se tubis iksos gaomagon, īlva dāria jāhor mazverdagon sure ao ry glaesagon dāez. (Find others like yourselves and break their chains. Before the day is done, our Queen will make sure you all live free.)"
They didn't need to be told twice and did exactly as they were told. Once that was done, Daario returned outside to see a Ghiscari knight charging into view, cutting down multiple rebels at once with ease.
"Konīr ao issi! Nyke Oznak zo Phal, kosh hen Meereen! Byjan vavi demble eva o, trezy eme verdje espo jimi! (There you are! I am Oznak zo Phal, champion of Meereen! I fart in your general direction, son of a window-dresser!)" he shouted.
Daario rolled his eyes and chuckled in amusement as Oznak zo Phal continued cursing him.
"Oa mysa iles me nýnyghi, si oa kiba tuziles espo tomistos! Já si hojgá oa gundja, trezy eme mero dovodedha! Kiman nya másina orvorta va oi sodjistos! Do eban av kimívagho dombo, o doru-borto pame espo gruzi evi havor espo begistos! Ghorgan ji pungo va os, nynta Dare espo Zaldrizes, zȳhon se ry zȳhon dovodedha Vesterozia azzzzzantys! (Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries! Go and boil your bottom, son of a silly person! I wave my private parts at your aunties! I don't want to talk to you no more you empty-headed animal food trough wiper! I blow my nose at your, so-called "Dragon Queen", her and all her silly Westerosi kaniggets!)"
With that, Oznak zo Pahl charged at Daario with sword in hand. The Second Sons commander had merely stifled a laugh as he unsheathed a small dagger from his side, giving it a small peck before throwing it at Oznak's horse's face. The animal neighed as it fell to the ground and threw the Champion of Meereen off his mount. Before Oznak could recover, Daario quickly revealed a Dothraki sword and slashed him across the face, killing him with ease. Several onlookers watched in amazement as Daario looked at his seemingly would-be admirers.
"All too easy," he chuckled. "Now to find the others."
######
At Winterfell…
It's been almost two years since Robb Stark had taken most of his forces south to help King Daveth Baratheon repel an incursion at Blackwater Bay. When a raven arrived announcing the death of his father Eddard Stark, the young Bran and his brother Rickon had sobbed for days. And since Robb was away in Riverrun to prepare to return to King's Landing for the royal wedding, the responsibility of governing Winterfell and the North fell to Bran.
But for the past several days, Bran had been growing restless.
"Another sleepless night, my lord?" Maester Luwin inquired.
Bran looked at the old man. "I… don't know. I've been having more and more of these dreams lately."
"Dreams of what?"
"I'm standing the courtyard practicing my archery," the little lord explained. "Then… I'm walking and running, but… I'm not… I'm not me. I'm running through the godswood, sniffing the dirt, tasting blood in my mouth when I've made a fresh kill, howling. Old Nan used to tell me stories about magical people who could live inside stags, birds, wolves."
Maester Luwin shook his head. "That's exactly what they are, Bran, stories."
"No, my dreams are different," Bran continued. "Whatever occurred next confused me. A crow, raven, or whatever it was, stood on a perch and looked directly at me. It had three eyes! It told me to come with him, so I did."
"Well, whatever it was, my lord, dreams come and go. This one is no different. The magic you speak of has been absent from the world for centuries—" Maester Luwin continued before there was a knock on the door.
*KNOCK, KNOCK!*
"Who is it?" Bran calls out.
A Winterfell guard steps in. "Apologies for disturbing you, my lord. But there's a visitor requesting to see you. Says it's important."
"Are they still here?"
"Yes, my lord. They're out in the courtyard."
Bran nodded. "Fine, I'll see to them. Hodor!"
The enormous, simpleminded servant lumbered into the room.
"Hodor?" Hodor said simply.
"I need you to carry me into the courtyard."
"Hodor," he complied.
Hodor leaned down and picked Bran up in his arms, carrying him outside with his direwolf Summer and Osha in tow. Once in the courtyard, the little lord could see two people standing in the middle of Winterfell, a male and female. The woman appeared to be much taller than her companion, short and slim with long brown hair and green eyes and had a rather cheerful disposition. The male, however, was much shorter and slim with green eyes and had a sullen attitude.
"There you are," he announced.
"And you are…?"
"You've been having dreams."
Bran looked confused. "How did you know about my dreams?" he asked.
The male stepped forward, but Osha quickly ran and stood in front of him with a blade drawn.
"Not another step, boy," the wildling warned. "Unless you want to drown in your own blood."
He ignored her. "I'm unarmed. My sister carries the weapons, though."
The female nodded. "And I assure you, I'm very good with them. Especially with the spear."
Bran narrowed his eyes as Summer began to growl. "You do that, my direwolf will tear you to bits."
Whatever threats were issued, the male stood firm.
"And I suppose you believe it's the dreams you've been having that's been controlling Summer, yes?"
Bran studied him closely and said nothing.
"Hodor?" Hodor whined.
"Settle down, Hodor," Bran patted his companion before redirecting his attention at the two strangers standing before him. "And you two, you never told me your names. You stand in Winterfell, ancestral seat of House Stark. As acting lord of this castle, I request that you tell me who you are."
The male nodded in acknowledgement. "I'm Jojen Reed," he introduced himself. "This is my sister, Meera."
Bran blinked as the name "Reed" made its way into his ears. House Reed of Greywater Watch was the southern-most of the North that swore allegiance to Starks. A distinct off-shoot of the First Men, the Reeds along with their vassals are Crannogmen who control the vast area of swampland and bog stretching across the Neck. Their father, Lord Howland Reed, was an old friend of Bran's father Eddard Stark and one of only two to survive the encounter with Ser Arthur Dayne the Sword of the Morning.
With introductions set, Jojen stepped forward again – ignoring the threat posed by Osha.
"Why are you here?" Osha demanded.
Jojen ignored Osha and kept his focus on Bran. "We've come a long way to find you, Brandon. And we have come to help you go much farther than what you already are."
Bran blinked. "I don't… understand."
"Not yet, no," Jojen replied. "But you must seek him out."
"Who?" he asks.
"The Three-Eyed Raven."
Chapter End
######
Author's Note: Well, that wraps up another filler arc involving Daenerys Targaryen and Bran Stark; apologies for being so late on the updates. The young cripple hasn't been mentioned in a long time so I figured it was time to bring him back in time to introduce Jojen Reed and his sister Meera as well as beginning the path to seek out the Three-Eyed Raven. Also different in this story, however, was the simple notion of a slave uprising in Meereen. But this is only the beginning. Everyone in an organized group always has a chain of command structure. So who is leading the rebellion in Meereen? Thoughts? Let me know.
GREAT CELESTIAL-DRAGON: Liked the month Python reference, classic! I started picturing the so-called champion as a bit of John Cleese lol
―I thought exactly the same thing and had to watch the taunting knight scene again! xD
xx. az. xx: you know, I loved Daenerys in the show, but I really hope that she doesn't win over Daveth. He's, like, way to cool to kill. Also, he should have the "main character protection" that all stories have. At least I hope so
―Game of Thrones definitely does generate a fanbase for a lot of characters, I agree. Who knows how the Dragon Queen and Oathkeeper might portray each other provided of course that none of them come to blows first. Nice to see those appreciate Daveth Baratheon and his character development. But try not to worry about his fate for the time being; believe me if something bad did happen to the main character then the response would be rather immediate.
BioHazard82: Another good chapter.
―Thanks.
Moshi: Ｏ（）Ｏyou updated! Don't care if it's filler, you updated!
―I know; I'm trying to get back on track.
kira444: I feel like every time I update my stories, the universe rewards me by updating another one of my favorites. I swear, it happens way too many times to be a coincidence.
―I hear what you mean.
RHatch89: Awesome update :)
―Again, I'm sorry for not posting any updates for so long :(