The Dragon and the Hawke 16
Drogon was sleeping when Marian found him. He, and his brothers, had taken to sleeping and playing in the great colosseum. After Dany had freed Meereen's slaves, one of the first things to go was the pit and arena fighting. Marian could already tell that the blood sport would probably be back on in less than a year.
After all, people needed entertainment, and for hundreds of years that entertainment had been shirtless dudes murdering each other. Even the slaves that she'd talked to on the way to the colosseum admitted to missing the entertainment.
Thinking on it, she mused as she entered the arena and conjured a ball of ice, she could probably come up with a way to make it non-lethal. It would be a fun pastime, and maybe she could get the boys into it.
On the subject of the boys, it took six ice balls to the face for Drogon to wake up. When he did, he was anger and fire and roaring. All of his bluster immediately stopped when Marian raised her right finger and shouted, "Ah!"
The Dragon quieted and whined as it ran a claw over its snout to remove the flakes of ice that had stuck to its snout, and looked at Marian with incomprehending confusion. The mage was having none of that though, and her finger descended to point at him, "You know exactly what you did!"
Drogon lowers his claws, and his eyes track over to his brothers, who had woken to watch the spectacle of him being chastised by Dragon human Marian. He tries to roar at her to go away, but all that does is get him hit in the face with another ice ball, "What have I told you about roaring? We use our inside voices when talking to each other, remember?"
It is a novel sight to see a dragon look ashamed, but Drogon managed it, and nodded his head demurely. Marian nodded decisively and asks, "it isn't right to eat things that don't belong to you, is it?"
Drogon shakes his head.
"That's right! If I hear that you've eaten anything that you don't own, or that nobody has given you, I'm gonna have to do something drastic!"
Drogon whimpered, and his brothers backed away at the threat.
"That's right! You do this one more time, and no more ice cream for a month!"
Drogon wailed into the sky at the thought of the tasty frozen deliciousness that only Marian could make properly being denied to him. Rhaegal and Viserion make similar wines, wishing that their brother would stop causing trouble for them so that the great human dragon would never make such terrible threats.
Marian looks over at the two smaller brothers and smiles at them, "Don't you two worry, I'm not mad at you!"
The two stop croaking and look between each other in joy at the threat of losing the greatest of cold things denied to them was lifted. Drogon slapped his head to the ground in defeat, conceding that the threat that Marian leveled at him was enough to make him give in to her demands.
Now, one may wonder how a frozen delectable could be so instrumental in curbing a dragon's murderous rage, and Marian was happy to say that all it had taken was one subliminal mind trick way back when they were still small enough to climb on shoulders. She had gotten them hooked on cow's milk, which basically every creature in all of existence liked to drink, so it wasn't hard to get them to like it. Then she got them to appreciate cold milk, then she continued to add ingredients and got them to love those, until finally the end result was ice cream.
The Dragons loved the stuff, and only one person in the entire world knew the recipe that they liked, and it was Marian. So, in essence, the mage had made the dragons slaves to her whim without even having to use her more magical abilities.
It was times like this, with dragons begging for ice cream, that she loved that she was from a world that was like a hundred years more advanced than this one. And she was especially happy that dwarves existed on her world, cause who else but small dudes that lived in volcanic cakes would create the coldest food ever.
Then she frowned, cause thinking of dwarves made her think of Varric, who made her think of the rest of her friends, which made her depressively nostalgic. Thinking that she wanted to get rid of the darker feelings rolling around in her brain, Marian decides to try and talk to Dany.
Sure that the trek back to the Pyramid will take as long as it took to get to the arena, Marian sets off, expecting to get back to the palace by the time the sun goes down. Unfortunately, she greatly overestimates her ability to stay out of trouble, and a shout from nearby alley attracts her attention.
Adventurer senses tingling, Marian summons her staff, which breaks six potted plants, a wall, and nearly takes off a man's head before it reaches her, and steps into the mouth of the alley. What she sees, she does not like. A woman is being crowded by two men, both in the dull brown robes of former slaves. The woman, adorned in the more ornate mistress clothes, looks to be backing away in fear.
"Ahem," Marian calls
Both former slaves turn to see her, and she smiles. They smile back and wave before turning back to the former mistress. The woman, who had also seen her, calls out, "Please, help!"
"I was planning on it," Marian tells the woman, as she steps up behind the slaves. She steps up behind the larger of the two former slaves and taps him on the shoulder with her staff. The man sags and turns, asking something in his native tongue.
Marian, who assumes that he is asking why she is stopping him, rolls her eyes and looks to the woman, "Will you please tell him that neither I nor the queen support rape."
The woman nods in fear and translates. The men laugh, then speak again. Marian looks to the woman for a translation, then raises an eyebrow at the trail of urine running down her leg. The woman gulps, then says, "They said that they do not intend to rape me, merely kill me as retaliation for wrongs done by my father."
"What did your father do?" Marian asks, sure that it was probably something terrible. Slave masters were dicks like that.
"He killed their own father, and he was one of the masters that you buried in the market," The last part was said with sufficient levels of shame that Marian could tell that it hadn't been a decision that the woman had actually agreed with.
"Well tell them that your father has already paid for his crimes against them and many others," Marian tells her, "And that taking needless vengeance isn't something that I like."
The woman translates, and the men clearly don't believe her. They shout at the woman, and one pulls a knife in anger. That was when Marian decided that the better part of valor was knocking them out, throwing them at some Unsullied, and going to sleep.
She proceeded to do all that, and ignored the woman's thanks as she stalked off.
While Marian was getting into Missandei bed, Daario was doing his best to get into Dany's. The mercenary sniffed the flowers that he had spent all day picking, hoping that she would like them. He really hoped that she liked them, or he'd get the chance to kill somebody really soon. Blue balls had never been something that he'd had to deal with in the past; usually women fell over themselves to get at him.
After all, he was tall, well spoken, had a fantastic ass, and his accent had been tailored to get a woman wet at the first change in syllables. He had actually practiced that, and he didn't like to admit how long it had taken for him to master that skill. Nor did he like to admit how much gold he had made making sure that it was actual skill that he had to back the voice up. He didn't like to admit it, but he could literally buy his own services and that of his men with how much gold he had made practicing.
Actually, he did like admitting that, and he gladly would if Dany happened to ask how skilled he happened to be. For the moment though, he would refrain, and if the expression on the queen's face as she entered her own quarters was any indication, he would probably get killed for trying to be dashing.
"I thought I had guards on my door?" is what Dany decides to start their conversation with a mix of a question and an observation
"You do," He tells her with a smile, "But you don't have any at the windows."
"Something I'll have to correct then," Dany notes, stepping past him to pour herself a goblet of wine. She turns and raises an eyebrow at him before saying with some annoyance, "These are my private quarters."
"A perfect place to talk to you privately, then," Daario smiles, winking as he pulls the flowers he had picked from behind his back to show her.
"What are these, then?" Dany asks, stepping up to him and running her hand along their stalks.
"Flowers," He informs her simply, then when she raises her eyebrow he adds, "I had to swim to one of the islands off the bay and back to collect these for you."
"And am I meant to feel grateful for this feat?"
"Well, Marian did say you enjoyed grand gestures, and I've already taken a city for you," Daario tilts his head as he explains
"Oh, so I've gone from being worth a city to being worth a handful of flowers?" Dany chuckles
"You are worth all the effort in the world," Daario tells her, "Which is why I smell of seasalt and will for three days to come."
Dany takes a whiff of Daario's scent and nods, "So you do, and you thought this scent would appeal to me?"
"More hoped," Daario shrugs, "I only just got back."
"Then you must be tired," Dany notes. When Daario shrugs, Dany smirks, and tells him, "Come, lay down."
Daario is happy to oblige.