The Khalasar was nearly a week into their voyage when Daenerys came from her quarters one evening and demanded three of her ships detour to Braavos.
As with all the Queen's requests her orders were immediately complied with, but it wasn't long before a furious Jorah appeared at her side and steered her back into her quarters for a private conversation.
"Khaleesi, dividing our forces is not wise. We need for all our ships to land in Westeros at the same time, to appear as strong as possible."
"And we will," she stated with supreme confidence. "Send word that our boats are to wait miles off shore if they reach Westeros before we return. We will gather there and then finish the journey together."
Frustration evident on his face Jorah lifted his hands in the air and pushed his fingers through his thinning hair. "We are so close Khaleesi! Are you having second thoughts about Westeros, because we can wait, if you wish it."
Daenerys smiled at him kindly but it didn't reach her eyes and she was positive he noticed. "My return to Westeros is long overdue. Our detour to Braavos is only about ensuring the army is the most capable it can be."
Eight long seconds the old soldier stood confused until the moment the pieces came together for him. From across the brightly lit room she could see the light of understanding in his eyes. "The girl, we're going back to Braavos for the girl?"
From a hidden pocket in her leather top she removed the iron coin and held it up to the knight. "Do you know what this is Ser Jorah?" she asked.
"It's a coin," he answered dismissively before he marched out of her quarters and out onto the deck. She made no attempt to try and stop him.
That coin, the woman who gave it to her, and what it meant had been all Daenerys could think about for days. As innocently as possible she spoke to all of her commanders one by one, asking for what they knew about this house of assassins that the girl was a part of.
Daario was the first, she asked him one night as they lay together in bed. For the third night in a row she brushed off any attempt to have sex and focused on his knowledge of the guild of killers. "In the Pits I saw a Faceless Man cut down six fully armoured men as if they were nothing. He started with only a dagger, but within seconds had killed one man and stolen his sword. By the end of the first minute, two were dead and he had a sword and shield. It was the most impressive display of death I've ever seen."
"I'd never seen anything like it either," Daenerys agreed, thinking back to what she witnessed in the alley. She moved with a gracefulness, so fluid and smooth and yet so deadly. Waiting until the last moment to step aside and then put herself in the perfect position for a counter-strike.
Grey Worm, and Barristan were the same, speaking only of the Faceless Men's exploits in combat and not about the order itself. Aware of Jorah's dislike of the woman Daenerys skipped his biased opinion and went right to Tyrion. He explained to her in graphic detail how before she was the Breaker of Chains, the House of Black and White had been killing slavers and freeing slaves for decades. He also connected their activities to the will and wishes of the Iron Bank.
"So if I don't repay my debts?" she wondered.
Tyrion tilted his glass in jest. "Then my Queen they will hire a Faceless Man to assassinate you or they'll begin funding your enemies until you have no choice but to bend the knee and repay the debt, with interest."
The more she learned the more fascinated Daenerys became. She'd once lived in Braavos and knew of the House of Death, just as ever Braavosi but she hadn't realized how deep the roots ran, how structured and purposeful their actions. With each passing minute she had more questions for the killer in a girl's body. The thought that she might not see the girl again knotted her stomach.
In the end it was Missandei who had the most information to share. As she assisted Daenerys in the bath they spoke of the house. "So you know of it?"
"All slaves know of the Faceless Men Khaleesi. They were started by escaped slaves. It is rumored that the first contracts they took were on their old Masters. In the years since they've killed plenty, all kinds, for all reasons but they have a dislike for the Masters and help slaves escape when they can."
More hot water was added to the bath and Daenerys pushed further. "Do you know anymore?"
Missandei nodded. "I know they are expensive and secretive. Its rumored only three out of every ten survive the training and get the scar."
"The scar," she repeated, remembering the feel of it under her finger.
"Magic Khaleesi. They say they can give a man a new face at will," she explained, repeating what she'd told Daenerys the first time they spoke on the subject.
"That is definitely true," Daenerys confirmed. When Missandei stopped washing and looked at her with questions in her eyes the Queen relented. "Before she left she removed the man's face and showed me the real one underneath."
"Truly!?" Missandei asked, awestruck.
Daenerys smiled in confirmation and the two girls laughed together quietly as Missandei got back to work. "Do you know what the coin means?"
"The coin?"
Across the room, resting on top of her clothing on the bed was the coin the assassin had given her, the one she hadn't let out of her sight since the moment it was placed in her hand. Holding a wet arm out of the tub she pointed. "She gave me an iron coin before she left."
Before Daenerys had even finished the servant was off her knees and standing over the bed, looking for and then finding the coin. She carried it back to the tub and passed her thumb over its carvings. "She gave you this?" Missandei clarified.
"Yes, said I could get help if I ever needed it."
"Khaleesi the Faceless Men believe in two principles above all others – Valar Dohaeris – every man serves and Valar Morghulis – every man dies. When a favor or debt is owed by a member of the order it is said they distribute coins like this. If you take this coin to them it is said that anything you can ask for, is price."
Daenerys was captivated, listening and trying to determine how the new information fit into the mysterious history of her friend. "So I just show up with this coin and they'll give me anything?" she asked, skeptically.
"Yes Khaleesi. I heard of a slave once who aided a member of the order and was gifted a coin in return. He used it to purchase his freedom."
"How?"
Missandei gave her a grim look as she dried her hands. "The assassin snuck into the house one night and slaughtered everyone except the slave who hired him, and together they travelled back to Braavos."
"That's amazing."
"Most people trade them for services, should they ever require them."
Although she tried to remain expressionless, secretly the Queen could see the benefit of having an assassin owe her a favor or two. She vowed to hold the coin even tighter now.
R-C
She told herself it was because she was bored, cooped up in a hammock in the cargo hold of a sinfully slow merchant vessel. The long trip left her plenty of time to think, to heal and to plan. The first few days she slept more than she woke but as time progressed she began to regain her energy. Her reasons rang hollow in her mind, because she knew the truth. No small part of her was doing this because she wanted to check on Daenerys.
Closing her eyes and having her eyes roll back in her head she sought out an animal, any animal that could provide her the information she needed. She needed to focus, trying to bond with animals so far away. Each time she tried it was a test of wills, hers versus the animals and each time she won, but it was never easy, not like bonding with Nymeria. Thoughts of her wolf had her smiling in spite of her pain and in spite of her concern.
In the skin of a cat she hurried along the dock and all around the bay, confirming that the camp was gone and the boats had left. Through the cat's eyes she did notice that a garrison of Daenerys's troops had been left to maintain order in the city.
Hours later she was in the skin of a raven as she attempted to master the art of flying. It was immensely freeing, even unmoved, underground in the belly of the ship, she felt remarkably free, the wind in her face, the clouds blurring past, the strength in her wings as she'd flap and then glide, then flap, flap, flap and glide. From the air, finding the fleet wasn't nearly as difficult as she predicted it would be. What confused her was the fact Daenerys's boats were going on two directions.
After a few laps, flying low enough to see onto the deck of each ship she located the one that mattered, the one with Daenerys. Surprisingly she didn't appear to be one of the boats heading for Westeros. After waiting so long, her actions didn't make sense. She wanted to ask, and even tried but realized too late that her voice, the bird's voice would be insufficient for that conversation. She flew the bird around the boat for the remainder of the day, watching for any signs of danger.
After returning to her own body she was amazed by the amount of energy it took to bond with the animals. As she yawned, with increased pain in her tense muscles it was entirely worthwhile. She'd accomplished her task, and verified that Daenerys was safe. Taking a measure of relief, she dozed off to a peaceful, dreamless sleep.
R-C
The first time it happened she thought it was her imagination, a state halfway between awake and asleep. How else could she explain a bird sitting on the desk in her quarters, having flown in through the tiny square window after she was already asleep. More than a few times she blinked in the darkness, expecting the illusion to disappear but it never did and the bird remained. It didn't seem real, seeing a bird so still, so quiet, not moving in aggressively or flying away in fear. Just watching.
R-C
Just hours from passing under the Titan she sat in her tiny room reaching out for any beasts in Daenerys's general area. She was surprised to find that the task of linking up with animals was becoming easier, even as she put more distance between them.
At first she believed all was well, just as it had been every time she checked for the past month. She flew in a bird's body over the boat, swooping down close enough to get a look at Daenerys's smiling face as she joked with Missandei and Tyrion and then she'd back up in the clouds.
It was nearly midnight, the night was cloudy, nothing but darkness out on the water. All day she'd been on edge, worrying about the Queen. A moonless night, out on the ocean with only two additional boats to protect her. That was the sort of ideal situation a Faceless Man might capitalize on, if he or she were looking to sink one of the ships, or all three.
From the moment she found a bird to use she hadn't returned to herself once. As dawn approached she began to think she got worried for nothing until she saw the two small rowboats moving quick and low, unseen in the water, and heading straight for the Queen's vessel.
Taking the bird down she flew in through the Queen's window, noticing that Daenerys continued to leave it open, even after she caught the bird sitting on her desk once. Daenerys was asleep, wrapped in a silk sheet that was tucked around her waist loosely. Beside her, lying on his side, facing away from her Daario was entirely naked and clearly having a pleasant dream.
Her last desire would be to scare the Queen, but she didn't see another way. The choices for animals were limited, unless she really wanted to take a swim. Taking a deep breath to fill her lungs she let out a massive screech that echoed around the cabin. As soon as she saw Daenerys's eyes opening the bird was out the window and screeching constantly to try and awaken the others.
Daenerys, wearing a silver silk robe that was barely tied appeared on the deck, looking confused. Unlike everyone around her, she wasn't looking to the water, but to the sky.
The bird landed on a railing just feet from where the Queen was standing. She approached slowly, so not to spook her, while nearby Grey Worm and Jorah were commanding their men and ringing a large bell to ensure everyone on all three ships was aware of the danger.
All of Daenerys's attention was on the bird which flew onto her outstretched arm, stayed for a moment and flew off. Halfway to the boats bow the bird looked back at her in a very human gesture, checking to see if she was following. She was.
When they arrived at the end of the boat the bird sat on the edge with Daenerys in front as they looked out at the water together. Daenerys couldn't see anything. With another cry the bird left the railing and flew down toward the water. Instinctively the short Queen propped herself up on her bare toes and peeked over the side, checking where the bird had gone. As she looked down she saw two more small boats rowing closer in the distance.
In her loudest voice Daenerys called for her troops. By the time the two boats of additional attackers were in range her archers were loosing flaming arrows in an attempt to sink the boats.
Both Barristan and Jorah urged her into her quarters but Daenerys Targaryen didn't hide. She refused to even consider such a thing when men and women were willing to fight and die for her. She stood on the center of the deck with Missandei at her side. The two women held hands as they watched. One boat was close enough to begin to board, while the other, damaged by arrows sank off to the right.
Grey Worm was the first to draw his blade with Darrio next to him. Together they fought the pirates or assassins or whoever they were. From where they watched Missandei squeezed Daenerys's hand each time Grey Worm took a blow, holding her breath one moment and letting it out in a rush the next. Doing what she could to comfort her friend Daenerys tried to be supportive. It occurred to her that although she cared for Darrio she felt none of the overwhelming concern Missandei was suffering. In that moment, amidst the chaos of combat she decided to send Darrio back to Meereen. He'd be happier there. She'd make the arrangements as soon as they made landfall in Braavos.
"Inside the cabin Khaleesi please, and don't come out."
"No, I'll stay!" she said with passion. "Hand me a weapon Ser Jorah."
R-C
Dread filled the instrument of death that used to be Arya Stark. The thought of the tiny queen using a sword in battle was terrifying. The bird she was bonded with provided amazing clarity to watch but little in the way of offensive weapons.
Cursing in a way that would make a sailor from Volantis blush she focused her mind and tried to find another nearby animal, any animal. No shortage of fish of course, birds too, but none strong enough to be of use. At the last moment she felt the dog, in the third boat, being held by its owner. Looking at the dog through the bird's eyes she could see it was a war hound, bred for battle, and exactly what she needed.
The transfer felt awkward and took some getting used to as she traded in the wings for four furry legs. To start with she turned her head and looked around the boat. Only she and her owner were still aboard the small rowboat. Just one man responsible for holding the ladder when they climbed back down afterward. One man who brought his favorite mutt along with him. All the others were aboard, attempting to harm the Queen.
Motivated to aid Daenerys the dog turned her head and without warning snapped at her owner, biting his hand viciously as she snarled. Her teeth pushed through the skin easily and she could taste the blood. All at once the boredom she felt being cooped up, the annoyance she felt being injured all melted away and she could just be who she was, what she was.
While the screaming man tended to his wound the dog ran up the make shift ladder and hopped over the side of the higher boat, landing on the deck just feet from the Queen.
Darrio spotted the dog and took a swing at it with his angled blade but the dog was quick and she darted between his legs before he could make a second attempt.
If she wanted to stay alive she'd need to prove to Daenerys and the others that she was on their side. The dog snarled as he looked around at the fighting men. Daario was fighting several, Grey Worm was fighting another while protecting the women and Jorah and Barristan each had an ongoing battle of their own. A handful of Unsullied still attempted to sink the second boat with arrows even though only one man remained on it, holding the ladder.
One man who had hung back for the majority of the fighting held a clean sword and swerved through the crowds, avoiding contact with anybody, regardless of allegiance. When he saw the man coming Jorah kicked his opponent so he could put himself between the Queen and her killer. He fought well until the second man returned and he was outnumbered.
The dog charged from across the boat and leapt, opening her wide mouth in mid air and clamping down on his sword hand as the force of the collision sent the man tumbling back.
The dog landed on top and while he reached for another weapon to fight off the beast, she settled her mouth over his neck and bit down, tearing through the vital tissue with ease.
Powerful ears made it possible for the dog to hear the man's gurgled breath as he choked on his own blood. She could hear his final wet cough, as death claimed him but it was already behind her as she took off toward Daenerys.
The clash steel held her focus and she saw Daenerys going up against a sell-sword to protect Missandei and herself. Her opponent was a trained soldier, she could see it in his walk, how he held himself. He wore leather armor, far from expensive but not cheap either. His sword, a beautiful Claymore, made from castle-forged steel. It was worth more than most sell-swords made in a year, which meant this man either stole it, or he had a patron.
Through the dog's eyes she watched as the tiny queen barely got the blade up in time to block the first strike. The second she dodged with ease, displaying a smug smirk as she avoided the blow, but it left her open for a counter and skilled warriors didn't miss such opportunities.
From miles away she pushed the dog to move faster, and leapt but she was too slow, and arrived too late. The blade came down quick, a flash of silver that bit into Daenerys's arm just above her elbow and tore its way down. Just as he'd done before the fighter dealt with Jorah before sending him back to his own fight and continuing onto Daenerys alone. He attempted the same move that had worked earlier, but this time Daenerys knew better. She dodged the attack, but this time she did it in a way that didn't leave her exposed. She deflected what would have been a death blow but tumbled back onto her ass, in her robe and dropping the sword in the process sending it skidding across the planks.
She pushed the dog faster now, knowing if she was too late she'd never forgive herself. She watched Daenerys fall backward and sent the dog for her prey. The blade came back as the dog jumped. Her claws sunk into his back and her teeth clamped on his shoulder. From personal experience she knew how hard it was to hold a sword when your shoulder was bleeding.
Her attack served its purpose as the assassin moved away from Daenerys to battle the beast. It was a short dance, one in which even as she won, the girl in the animal's body lost. Just before she sunk her sharp teeth into the flesh of the sell-sword's throat a sword ran her through. Howling in pain she bit down anyway, determined to finish the job.
The link between the animal and her passenger faded when the dog began to die, but while she couldn't move she could still hear.
Daenerys was kneeling down next to an injured Missandei. "Are you hurt?"
With Daenerys's help she stood. "I am fine your Grace, I just tripped when I saw the dog."
Together they looked over at the dying hound. "Oh my, you're bleeding Khaleesi."
She shook her head and applied pressure to the long thin line on her arm. "I'm fine, tend to the other wounded first please."
"Of course your Grace."
As she left Jorah arrived. "Pirates Khaleesi, looking to claim the price on your head no doubt. There will be more if people learn you are travelling with such little protection. Shall we change course and meet up with the rest of the fleet?"
Through the dog's dimming eyes, she saw Daenerys's expression and she was enraged. "We will continue on to Braavos as I planned. We are only three days away." With her wishes known she walked past Jorah but stopped when their shoulders brushed. "I do not want to have this conversation with you again," she informed him bluntly before she carried on.
The dog's death broke the connection and the battle had scared the birds off, so No One was forced back to her own skin for now, but she had learned plenty. First and most important, Daenerys's injury was minor and she would heal quickly. Equally interesting to the assassin was the information that Daenerys separated from her fleet to travel to Braavos.
She refused to consider why she might make such a change, even after she'd stepped off the boat and made the long journey to the House of Black and White in the early morning sunlight.
R-C
She was met just inside the door by her mentor. "Hello girl." He immediately took note of her injuries and ushered her inside, down to the basement where the Maester's took people to, or brought them back from, the brink of death.
"What happened?" Jaqen asked as her injuries were assessed.
Without shame she stripped naked and allowed herself to be poked and prodded. Arya Stark would have been mortified by such treatment but No One was used to it.
"I found Nazir but he'd already hired sell-swords to kill the Targaryen. I joined them and killed them, but not before they did some damage," she explained, gesturing to her wounds. Wincing in pain she continued without delay. "The Dragon Queen took me to her camp to heal, payment she claimed for saving her life. I passed along the message as I was instructed and I spoke with her guards about improving her security,"
Jaqen looked pleased. If she didn't know him so well she would miss it, the tiny shift in his jaw, the flattening of some lines along his brow and a little more color in his eyes. "And what of Nazir, the pig who started all this?"
Swallowing past the lump in her throat she tried to rehydrate her dry mouth but failed. 'N… Na… Nazir was given the Gift and his body put on display to discourage others."
"Very clever," he told her with a wink. "Did you meet with the exiled Targaryen?"
Strangely she felt bad discussing Daenerys as if she were just another target. "Yes, we spoke."
Unpleased with her response he gave her a stern look and folded his arms. "And? What is she like? Is she as mad as her father or as entitled as her brother? What of the people around her? Can her army truly take and hold Westeros or is she doomed to fail?"
For the first time she understood the purpose of the mission she'd been sent on. It hadn't been about killing Nazir or his sell-swords and about warning Daenerys, it was really about this. Jaqen wanted an excuse to meet with the Dragon so he took advantage of the situation and sent her to gather the information unknowingly.
Hiding her emotions as she'd been taught she spoke clinically, getting straight to the point. "Her army is strong and varied. I don't think the armies of Westeros will be prepared for what she brings to their shores."
"What does she bring?"
"In addition to three dragons that adore their mother and breathe fire, she has Unsullied, the Second Sons, exiled Westerosi knights and Dothraki clans, all with unwavering loyalty to their Queen."
"What of her mental state?"
"From what I saw the Queen was honorable and fair. More than once in my presence I saw her do something to improve the lives of her people, for no other reason than because she could. I think Westeros would be lucky to have such a Queen."
With a nod the conversation was over. "Get some rest. You have done well but you must heal. There are still many people who require the Gift."
"I will be ready the next time the Many Faced God calls upon me," she declares.
R-C
Walking up the steps in front of the House of Black and White, she passed a young boy, no more than ten summers, sweeping the stairs. Daenerys smiled at him kindly as she climbed with Jorah on her left and Darrio on her right. In addition, six of Grey Worm's finest soldiers were standing guard on the street.
The Queen was uncharacteristically nervous as she approached the heavy looking doors. More than once as she was being dressed she inquired about what Missandei thought of the dress, a silky blue garment that clung to her like a second skin. Likewise, she opted to wear her hair in a more elaborate and formal way than was typical. And despite all that she couldn't keep her eyes off the white bandage on her arm, covering the injury she sustained on the ship.
She was pulled from her thoughts by the doors opening before she had even knocked. As soon as the doors were open the boy sweeping the steps rushed inside, never once looking at the man in the doorway or backward at the guests.
Swallowing down her anxious energy she spoke in a clear voice from two steps below the older man. "Good afternoon."
"Good day."
"Ser, I was wondering if I may speak with a member of your house. My name is…"
The old man chuckled. "Worry not Daenerys Targaryen, we at the House of Black and White know exactly who you are."
For a moment they sized one another up, Daenerys in her silks and bandages and him in trousers and a shirt, both darkened by sweat as if he'd been training. In his sixtieth year at least, she had no doubt he could slaughter them all with ease. Oddly that thought didn't make her doubt her intentions.
"First," she said, still speaking from below him. "I wish to thank you for the aid you sent me." For a moment she thought of the girl she had come to see. "Myself and many of those I hold dear are still alive only because of your woman's intervention."
"Valar Dohaeris, your Grace. We all must serve. What you've done to free the slaves and correct a wrong done to so many for so long, is honorable and important. When our house received a request for a contract on your life, we turned the offer down. Word of your growing army had reached Braavos and we thought you'd surely be safe against typical sell-swords," the man explained, using a hand to wave to each side of her, where her armed guards stood. "Still, it haunted me, the thought that Nazir or others like him might try and do you harm, and might get lucky because you were ill-prepared. It didn't sit right with me, so I dispatched the girl to make sure you were aware of the increased risk." Every word was said with the same even tone, the same kindly attitude and friendly expressions.
"I was most impressed by how skilled the girl was. In fact, I'd like to see her, if possible."
The man's kind smile vanished and he crossed his arms over his muscular looking chest. "Nobody goes into the temple, your Grace, not even a Queen. Only those accepting the Gift are permitted through the doors, unless…"
With an almost smug smile she reached for the coin she'd been carrying with her nearly every moment since it was handed to her. To pass the time on the ship she'd taken to moving it around from finger to finger, just as she'd seen the assassin do. She was still learning, but getting better.
Using more flourish than was technically necessary she passed the coin to the elderly man. "Unless I have one of these?"
He looked down at the coin and knew who it belonged to immediately. The markings she'd made were distinctive and memorable. What surprised him most was that she'd given the coin to anyone at all. In her years of training and after she'd never once passed out a coin to anyone, until now. It made him question what exactly happened in Meereen.
"Of course you're right. You are welcome inside but I'm afraid the coin is for you alone so your associates will have to wait here."
The old man looked at the faces, specifically those of the Dragon's knights. Neither looked keen on the idea of her going in alone. Without a word he turned and went back inside, leaving the white door open, while the black swung closed.
"Khaleesi, please I beg you to use reason," Jorah implored. "These people are just highly skilled murderers, nothing more. You must be careful. They have their own agenda, their own motives."
"It is just a meeting Ser Jorah. I wish to speak to the woman who saved us again, that is all."
"Once you are inside, you'll be in danger. You can't go alone."
She smiled at her worried commander. "The House of Black and White has gone to considerable lengths to keep me alive. I imagine if they truly wanted me dead I'd be dead by now. Stay here with the others and I'll be back."
Little else was said before Daenerys climbed the stairs again and went straight through the open door. Inside it was brighter than she expected it to be. Beautiful murals covered the walls and in the center of the room was an elaborate fountain. Two people sat on the floor in silence, waiting for the cup to end their suffering.
The man she'd spoken to on the steps came from her right side. He led her down a winding hallway and then another and finally to a long flight of silver steps they walked up slowly. At the top she found herself on a platform overlooking the training field.
Within seconds her eyes found the one she could recognize. Even from a distance she could see that the girl was favoring her injury. Still the way she moved was almost poetic.
As they watched Daenerys's eyes shifted away from the girl to the others. Not surprisingly most were men and all were very impressive. No matter how impressive though, her eyes would undoubtedly find their way back to the injured girl who still appeared to be just as deadly as the Queen remembered.
"As you can see your Grace, the girl may not be ready quite yet, but we have plenty of others should you need the Gift given."
They continued walking and ended up in an office. They sat together, drank tea and made small talk. "The girl did well for you?" he asked when it was time to talk in earnest.
"She saved my life and the lives of those dearest to me. I will forever be grateful to her for her aid, and to you for sending her."
"Here in Braavos we hear many things. We heard about danger to the Breaker of Chains and felt it would be wrong to do nothing."
With a gentle nod she took a sip of her tea. "As I said I am truly grateful."
The man, who had yet to return her coin, held it out between them. "You wish something, what is it?"
Daenerys squared her shoulders and spoke like the last dragon she was, like the Khaleesi she was, the Queen. "After seeing her fight, I realized how much having one so talented in our ranks would help. As you are undoubtedly aware we are travelling to Westeros and I am worried about the time at sea. My soldiers are men of action and I fear they'll need action while on the water. I came here to Braavos to see if I could hire a trainer for my troops."
The old man said nothing as he listened to her explanation. "A wise observation Queen. You certainly live up to your reputation. I find the resources spent ensuring your safety were well worth it."
"How much would it cost? To hire one of your people to train my army during the voyage?"
He lifted his hand and brought her attention back to the coin. "Was the purpose of this coin not explained to you?" he asked, with a slight, disapproving shake of his head.
She thought back to what the scarred woman had said. "I was told that if I ever needed anything, I could come here, show the coin and get help," she summarized.
"Yes, and you need help, so you shall have it, at no charge."
The concept felt a little too much like slavery to Daenerys and she began to panic. After a few deep breathes she steeled herself and laid down the law, her law. "No, no I'm sorry but that just won't do."
Visible confused, he looked at her like she was an invalid. "Is there a problem your Grace?"
"I will not force anyone to join me who doesn't wish to. Anyone who does join me shall be paid far more than one coin, regardless of the role they play or how they came to be with me." There was a quiet while he simply waited to see what else Daenerys had to say. "So how much would it cost to hire one?" she asked, getting back to her original question.
The room was quiet for a full minute as decisions were made on both sides. "It won't be cheap," he told her bluntly. "The Faceless Men are the best trained fighters in all the known world and for one to teach you would be a great and expensive honor."
Daenerys gave him a smirk and stepped a little bit closer. Lifting up onto her toes to appear taller, she shook her head gently. "I don't have a problem with expensive," she assured him.
For more than thirty minutes they bartered on a price and in the end they both walked away happy. Daenerys would have a Faceless Man for her army as she wanted, and the House of Black and White would receive payment for each month the Faceless Man was in her service. Just as he warned the fee was outlandish but Daenerys didn't mind. It would be well-worth it.
They were back on the ledge overlooking the training grounds when he said, "Normally it's the one who presents the coin must honor the request, but given how well she did in aiding you in Meereen and the extent of her injuries, I'll be willing to let you have your pick of any of the others in her place."
She gave him her fakest smile and looked down at the girl in question. It had been more than an hour and she was still working away, dancing around in her graceful way, killing with all manner of weapon be it swords and daggers to household items put to deadly purpose.
"That's very kind of you to offer but I'd like to hire the girl," she said confidently. "The same one who saved my life before."
"She's damaged, the fee…"
"Can stay the same," she assured him. "Now may I please speak with her so we may iron out the details?"
The man nodded, clearly pleased with how things progressed. He threw the coin in the air and caught it with a flash of his hand that Daenerys could barely see. "Since you insist on paying for your service, I suppose you can have this back." Once Daenerys was holding the coin again he looked at her over his shoulder. "May I ask a question your Grace?"
"Certainly," she replied immediately, not waiting to ruin their bargain.
He nodded to the hand with the coin in it. "How did you earn that?"
"Excuse me?" she replied, not understanding.
From his pants he removed a coin of his own, marked in a visibly different way, and showed it to her. "We all have them. Our custom is to share our coin with only the most deserving. Many go their whole lives and never use their coin. Usually a person has to save someone from meeting the Many Faced God in order to receive such a gift. Others are given to those who show extreme promise in the art of death. Knowing it was she who saved you has me wondering, what did you do?"
The words were ringing in Daenerys's ears. She walked past the man as confidently as she could, silent as though he hadn't spoken or she hadn't heard him. Privately though she was warring with this new information. The question bounced around in her mind – What did she do for that coin? Nothing! She just handed it over before she left. If its as special as the old man says then it had to be meaningful, but what it meant she had no clue.
R-C
Each step required a wince of pain as she hobbled toward her bed after a full day of training. The warm heat against her side announced that she'd torn her stitches again, as was fast becoming habit. She had nearly reached her destination where a needle and thread waited. A wicked grin lit up her stoic face. Sansa would be so proud to see her putting all those hours of sewing practice to good use.
"Valar Dohaeris, girl."
She paused and listened, pushing back the pain and giving her surroundings her focus. She could hear the footsteps approaching from behind. "Valar Morghulis."
"Are you healing well?"
"I'm fine," she assured him, aware the growing red stain on her tunic stole creditability from her argument.
"Good, because the Many Faced God requires the services of his favorite student."
She turned to face him, feeling more alert than she had in days. "Where can I be of service?"
With a smile that was too kind, too paternal he answered before his mouth. "Seems fate feels you've been away from home for too long."
"Home?"
He chuckled darkly. "Perhaps Winter is Coming after all, yes?" He didn't wait for an answer just nodded to the door. "Pack your things, your guest is waiting."
"My guest?" Her words were wasted because he was already gone.
R-C
After gathering her few belongings in a single bag she met Jaqen in the most sacred room in their temple. With a look she couldn't comprehend he complimented her and instructed her to take two faces, one male and one female on her journey. Before she left her mentor stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "The girl must keep practicing," he told her truthfully. "With more practice the girl will be able to have more than just the face of a man."
He stood facing the collection of faces and she stood in the hallway looking in on him. She adjusted her bag over her uninjured shoulder. "Be well, Jaqen."
"Take care girl."
R-C
Patience was not a virtue Daenerys Targaryen was gifted with. She felt anxious as the fire was lit that hatched her dragons, she was anxious when she and Barrister waited for her commanders to sack the city, but that all felt like a preamble to how she felt now. She was overrun with anxiety and desperate to hide it, standing there next to the famous fountain of death.
The longer it went on the more uncomfortable she became. She resisted the urge to pace, but only barely. Was there a problem? Was the girl hurt? Did she not wish to join Daenerys?
When a nearby door could be heard opening the Queen turned in that direction and held her breath as she waited. The confident, even strides stopped abruptly as she rounded the final corner. "Daenerys," she whispered in a voice so quiet that it could barely be heard over the rushing water.
R-C
The assassin was out of her depth and she knew it. Hand her something steel and point her at an enemy, that was something she understood, that was something she was capable of. This, was not. It occurred to her in some dark corner of her mind that Sansa would surely know what to say and do in such a moment, but all the younger girl could do was stare. Somehow the Dragon Queen had gotten more beautiful during her absence.
She remembered hearing that the Queen intended to sail for Braavos but she hadn't allowed herself to believe the reason was her. That seemed highly unlikely at best and absurd at worst.
Finally breaking the spell, she closed the space between them. "My Queen…"
For a time, they just looked at one another as if it had been years and not weeks since they were last together. In the process grey eyes took note of the wrapped area of her arm. Remembering the attack on the ship, she was overcome with guilt. Guilt that she wasn't there, guilt that she hadn't done more, that she wasn't faster. She took Daenerys's hand and guided her into a quiet alcove where they wouldn't be overheard. "Your arm," she complained as she touched the bandage gingerly. "I'm so sorry your Grace. I tried to reach you in time but I couldn't, the stupid dog…" As she spoke her fingers passed over the bandage, tugging at the corner so she could see the damaged flesh underneath.
Realizing what she was saying she stopped but the damage was done. One look into the eyes of the Targaryen and it was obvious she had heard enough. "How could you possible know of th…"
Afraid of the coming conversation she pulled Daenerys deeper into the shadow of the corner and lowered her quiet voice even further. "Apologies your Grace, but may we talk about this later perhaps, in private?"
With emphasis on the final two words she hoped Daenerys would grant her this small mercy. In her years in Braavos she had never shared her ability to warg with anyone, not even Jaqen and she had no desire to start now. She didn't even want to think about what would happen if they learned what she was capable of.
"Of course," Daenerys relented. "What of your injury?" she asked, looking with concern at the bloody stain.
"I am healing quickly," she exaggerated. "Your arm appears to be on the path to recovery as well, just ensure you keep it dry."
Daenerys nodded and offered a quiet thanks before she remembered the reason for her visit. "I have come…"
That was all she needed to hear. "How can I be of service?"
"Come with me to Westeros."
She bowed her head and looked at the marble floor between them. "I would your Grace…"
This time it was Daenerys who had heard enough. "As I told you before, my name is Daenerys."
"Daenerys," she tried again. "I would love to join you, and I wish you nothing but success in King's Landing but my place is here."
Undeterred the Queen pushed harder. "I want you to join me as I cross the Sea and retake my home. I've spoken of it already with…" she wasn't sure what to call him since no names were given. With a grumbled sigh she continued on, certain the killer would understand. "He is allowing for you to join me temporarily."
The slate-colored eyes darkened and her hands, resting loose at her sides balled into fists. "You came here to purchase me?"
Daenerys was horrified by the assumption. "Of course not!" she said quickly and far too loudly for the quiet temple. "I came to ask you to join me. Your friend there said I didn't need to ask only trade my coin, I refused."
"Refused?"
"I will not take anyone into my service against their will, regardless of my wishes. I struck a bargain with the House of Black and White. If you join me, I will pay wages to not only this house, but also to you, just as I do every other soldier in my army."
"You've hired me then?" she asked, opening her hands.
"Only if you wish it," she insisted. "You did so much for me already, I do not wish to burden you."
The laugh was dark and bitter. "But you've come here."
The blush warmed her face and Daenerys acknowledged that only one person seemed capable of making her body respond that way. "I came to see you and to offer you the opportunity to join me. If you do not wish it, I will go and leave you with my thanks for your time."
"I'm injured, certainly you'd rather a different…"
"Its you I want," she said confidently, leaning close to the taller girl. "It was you who saved me, you I saw fight, you I want to teach my troops."
The thought of returning to Westeros turned her stomach, while exciting her in a morbid way. Hearing that Daenerys would only accept her made her uncomfortable. If she said no and stayed in Braavos the Queen would be less-protected in Westeros and she knew as well as anyone just how dangerous King's Landing could be. If she went she'd be forced to face the past she'd locked away so long ago. She had no idea how many of her family still lived. Was there even a living Stark at Winterfell?
Her internal debate must have stretched on too long because Daenerys broke the silence. "I see it was an error to come here. I meant to cause you no discomfort. If you are happy here," she said, looking around, "then you should stay."
Reaching out her hand landed on the warm skin of Daenerys's forearm before it slid down toward her open hand. "And if I'm not happy here?"
Daenerys smiled, sensing victory. "In that case, take my hand and let's go home."