After her meeting with Grazdan mo Eraz, Daenerys had sent word for the captains of the sellsword company, the Second Sons, whom she had heard had been hired by Yunkai to fight for them. And the next day, they arrived at her tent. The three captains wore black feathers on their polished helms and claimed to be all equal in honour and authority. Daenerys studied them intently as Irri and Jhiqui poured the wine.

The three captains that met her were Prendahl na Ghezn, who was a thickset Ghiscari with a broad face and dark hair going grey; Mero, the Titan's Bastard – a towering Braavosi with pale green eyes and a bushy gold-red beard that came down to his belt; and Daario Naharis, who was flamboyant even for a Tyroshi. His beard was cut into three prongs and dyed blue, the same colour as his eyes and the curly hair that fell to his collar.

Mero stepped forward first. "You are the Mother of Dragons?" he asked. "I swear I fucked you once in a pleasure house in Lys. Or was it a twin sister?"

The Professor placed a hand over Daenerys' waist and lap as he glared at him. "Mind your tongue," he warned him.

"Why?" Mero asked as he stepped forward towards the sofa. "I didn't mind hers. She licked my arse like she was born to do it." Then he waggled his tongue through his lips, showing the motion the whore from Lys had performed on him.

"Well, there is this," the Professor countered, waving his hand, and a thick plume of smoke excluded from Mero's mouth and towards the Professor's open hand. When the smoke cleared, they saw what the Time Lord held in his hand—Mero's tongue. The Professor had removed the tongue with magic. "Just a trick that a friend taught me. And you are lucky he is not here with us."

Mero's face turned from a sneering arrogance to horrified realisation when he realised what had happened. Feeling no tongue in his mouth, he began to gag and staggered back.

Daenerys looked at the tongue in the Professor's hand, with a mixture of shock and fascination showing in her eyes. She knew who exactly taught the Professor that trick. Rumplestiltskin. She turned to face the Time Lord. "These men are our guests," she reminded him. "We're not here to antagonise them."

"No. We're not," the Professor countered. "But we do need to show them who's boss. And to prove to them which side is the winning side." He turned to Mero, who was still gagging and trying to form words. But the Titan's Bastard couldn't form words without the help of his tongue. "I suppose you want this back. Very well. But let this be a reminder for you." Waving his hand again, black smoke engulfed the tongue, and it found its way back into Mero's mouth, who gasped at its return.

The Professor turned to Irri. "I think he needs some wine," he casually said. Irri moved forward, poured some wine into a cup, and handed it to Mero, who gulped it down.

Daenerys watched the interaction with a mix of astonishment and amusement. The Professor's display of power had effectively put Mero in his place, and she could sense a newfound respect from the other captains as they exchanged wary glances.

Prendahl na Ghezn cleared his throat, his gaze shifting from the Professor to Daenerys. "We came to discuss terms," he began. "Didn't we?"

Daenerys nodded. "Speak, and I will listen."

"Well, to begin, you will all be slaves after this battle," Mero began. "Unless I save you."

Daenerys looked over at Barristan. "Ser Barristan, how many men fight for the Second Sons?"

"Under 2,000, Your Grace," the knight answered.

"And how many do we have?" the Professor asked.

"10,000 Unsullied."

"I may be young and new to the ways of war," Daenerys began, "but perhaps a seasoned captain like yourself can explain how you propose to defeat us."

"I hope the old man is better with a sword than with a lie," Daario said. "You have 8,000 Unsullied."

"You seem young to be a captain."

"He's not a captain," Prendahl corrected. "He's a lieutenant."

"Even if your numbers are right, you must admit the odds don't favour your side."

"The Second Sons have faced worse odds and won," Mero replied.

"You could fight for my cause," Daenerys told him.

Mero shook his head. "We've taken the slavers' gold. We fight for Yunkai."

"I would pay you as much and more."

"Our contract is our bond," Prendahl stated. "If we break our bond, no one will hire the Second Sons again."

"Ride with me, and you'll never need another contract," Daenerys said. "You'll have gold, castles, and lordships of your choosing when I take back the Seven Kingdoms.

"You have no ships. You have no siege weapons," Daario pointed out. "You have no cavalry."

"A fortnight ago, I had no army," Daenerys replied. "A year ago, I had no dragons. You have two days to decide."

The atmosphere within the tent grew more tense as the three captains exchanged glances at each other. Prendahl cleared his throat. "Your offer is tempting," he tempted.

Daenerys looked at them all. "You all seem to be enjoying my wine. Perhaps you'd like a flagon to help you ponder."

"Only a flagon?" Mero asked. "And what are my brothers in arms to drink?"

"A barrel, then."

Mero smiled, and he got up from his spot. "Good. The Titan's Bastard does not drink alone," he said as he placed his cup down and began to leave the tent with the other two captains. "In the Second Sons, we share everything. After the battle, maybe we'll share you. I mean, after we kill him." He pointed to the Professor.

Daenerys glared at them as they left. "Ser Barristan, if it comes to battle, kill that one first," she said of Mero.

Barristan glanced over at Daenerys. "Gladly, Your Grace."

The three captains arrived at their camp outside Yunkai, where Mero had picked up a whore, Lysandra, from the closest brothel. The three captains sat round in a circle, with the whore sitting on Mero's lap.

"That dragon bitch," Prendahl said first. "She talks too much."

Mero joined in with a sly grin. "And that consort of hers, the one who calls himself a Time Lord. Did you see how he snatched my tongue away? Sorcery, I tell you. Dangerous stuff."

"You're no saint yourself," Daario pointed out.

"Well, I don't stand between her and my cock. But don't worry. My cock will find a way. My cock always finds a way." Mero looked over at Lysandra. "Tell him. Is there any place that my cock can't reach?"

Daario rolled his eyes. "She will tell me whatever you pay her to tell me."

"Daario Naharis, the whore who doesn't like whores."

"I like them very much. I just refuse to pay them. And I'm no whore, my friend."

Mero reached his hand and grabbed Lysandra by her cunt. "She sells her sheath, and you sell your blade. What's the difference?"

"I fight for beauty," Daario answered, to which Mero laughed.

"For beauty?" Prendahl asked.

"We fight for gold," Mero corrected Daario.

"The Gods gave men two gifts to entertain ourselves before we die," Daario replied. "The thrill of fucking a woman who wants to be fucked and the thrill of killing a man who wants to kill you."

Mero laughed. "You will die young."

"What do we do about the dragon girl?" Prendahl asked. "And that consort of hers? What did he say he was? Time Lord, was it?" He had never heard of such a title before. None of them had. "We can't beat 8,000 Unsullied on the battlefield. Or some guy that deals in sorcery."

"There won't be a battle, and we won't have to deal with her eunuchs," Mero told them. "Just her and the Time Lord."

"They're well-guarded," Prendahl said.

"Tonight is a new moon. One of us slips into her camp past all her Unsullied and her guard. And take the two of them by surprise. None of them will see it coming. We could make it look like a suicide pact if need to."

"Which one of us?"

Mero smiled, then turned to Lysandra. "Stand up, love, and close your eyes," he instructed her.

Lysandra did what she was told. She got up from Mero's knee, closed her eyes tight, and covered them with her hands. However, she didn't know what for.

Mero then dug into one of her pouches and pulled out three coins. "Three coins," he told Daario and Prendahl. "A coin from Meereen, a coin from Volantis, and a coin from Braavos. The Braavosi does the deed." He took Lysandra's hand and placed the three coins inside it. "One for each of us, darling." He turned her around. "And no peeking." He pushed her forward and slapped her on her arse to get her to walk on.

Lysandra followed his instructions, letting her senses be tuned to the ritual unfolding around her. Coins were exchanged hands with an air of gravity. The foreign coins, bearing the essence of three distant cities, passed through the intimate space between the captains and Lysandra.

As Lysandra moved, she was guided by the voices of the captain. She surrendered the coins one by one, and her journey concluded in Daario's lap. "You have something for me?" he asked close to her ear as he took the coin—the coin from Braavos. "Valar Morghulis," Daario whispered as he stared at it.

That night, the Professor and Daenerys were sharing a bath. Her handmaidens had drawn it to their liking before leaving the two of them alone together. The Professor sat at one end of the tub, with Daenerys at the other. With a washcloth in one hand, he reached for one of her feet and began to wash it gently.

Daenerys looked at him lovingly and sighed as she felt him wash around her foot. "There are times when I want nothing but to lie in bed with you," she told him, humming as she felt the warmth of the waters beginning to ease the tension around her shoulders.

The Professor nodded thoughtfully. "I would love that," he stated. Staying in bed with the woman he loved sounded like a good time. Something that he would enjoy. Something that he knew both of them would want. He moved to pick up her other foot to do the same to that one.

As the Professor moved to focus on her other foot, Daenerys felt her toes bump against the side of his feet. Murmuring an apology, she rested her feet upon his legs. She hummed as she let him wash around her other foot, humming more in contentment, and she closed her eyes. It was a vulnerable position for her, but she trusted the Professor and knew that he wouldn't hurt her or let harm come to her in any way.

"Do you remember when we first met?" She asked him after a while. Her eyes were still closed, but she was smiling.

He smiled as he thought back to that day, moving his hands around her feet and ankles in small, gentle motions. "I do," he answered. "Back in Pentos. And if I recall, you were quite nervous."

She let out a contented sigh. "I was. And a couple of days later, when you came to help me. In the Dothraki Sea. Seeing you step out of that travelling box of yours was nothing short of majestic. Especially when that was when I felt I needed you the most," she told him. "And I guess that was when I knew I liked you." She didn't know then that she would ever be in love with him. Back then, it was more of a youthful crush. It wasn't until they spent more time together that her youthful crush became love. But even then, she had to focus on duty over personal feelings. She clipped a foot out of his grip and poked him on the side of his leg, smiling.

The Professor smiled to himself. The way he had heard Daenerys speak about it, especially when he had come to her aide in the Dothraki Sea, he supposed it would have been majestic. And hearing those words from Daenerys filled his hearts with happiness. He wouldn't have thought his life would have turned out like this, but he was glad it did.

Feeling her foot against his leg, the Professor looked over at her. "Are you after something?" he asked.

Daenerys had opened her eyes and stared back at him with a playful smirk. "Yes. You," she said. "Here. Turn around. Let me wash you." The Professor managed to turn around in the tub, and Daenerys inched closer. A washcloth in her hand, she began to sponge at his back. She watched the water dripping from his back before placing a hand against the skin and leaning her cheek against him. She closed her eyes again, listening to the faint beat of his two hearts and his breathing.

It was peaceful. A peaceful moment just between them. But it didn't stay that way for long. The curtained wall pushed aside, and a helmeted Unsullied walked towards them, brandishing a small dagger. The Professor and Daenerys turned their attention to him. "What is the meaning of this?" the Time Lord asked, his eyes focusing on the dagger.

"No screaming, please," the man said. He spoke with the Common Tongue and didn't have such a thick Valyrian accent. Not like the other Unsullied, who still weren't fluent in the Common Tongue. "We don't want to alert the rest of your guards now, do we?"

Daenerys let her hand snake around to hold the Professor's. Her gaze was on the man and his dagger, watching as he sheathed his blade back into his holster before removing his helmet. It was Daario Naharis. "What do you want?" Daenerys asked.

"You," Daario answered.

"Why?" the Professor asked.

Daenerys leaned closer to the Professor. "He was sent here to kill me," she told him. "To kill us."

Daario chuckled. "I don't want to kill you."

"What do your captains have to say about that?"

"You should ask them," Daario took off his shoulder bag and tipped it upside down, where two severed heads rolled onto the floor. One was the head of Prendahl na Ghezn, and the other was Mero, the Titan's Bastard.

"Why?" the Professor asked.

"Because we had philosophical differences."

"Over what?"

Daario pointed to Daenerys. "Her beauty. It means more to me than to them."

Daenerys' eyes held a mixture of confusion and concern. "You killed your fellow captains because of me?"

Daario nodded, letting his lips curl into a half-smile. "Their priorities were misplaced. Power, control, riches – their ambitions blinded them."

"You're a strange man," Daenerys pointed out.

"I'm the simplest man you'll ever meet. I only do what I want to do."

"And this is supposed to impress me?"

"Yes," Daario answered.

"Why should I trust a man who murders his comrades?"

"They ordered me to murder you. Both of you. I told them I preferred not to. They told me I had no choice. I told them I am Daario Naharis. I always have a choice. They drew their swords, and I drew mine."

The Professor's gaze remained locked on Daario. "What is it that you want, then?"

"I want to serve a queen who is truly worthy," Daario told him. "One who isn't afraid to challenge conventions and break free from the chains of tradition. You, Mother of Dragons, possess that fire, that spirit."

Daenerys looked at him; then she looked at the Professor. Slowly, they removed the tub, water dripping down over their naked bodies as they stepped out. Grabbing their robes, the Professor put on his one – tying it loosely – before helping Daenerys with hers. Then, their attention turned to focus on Daario.

"And you will fight for me?" Daenerys asked, and Daario nodded. "Then swear to me."

Daario took his arakh from his sheath and knelt before Daenerys and the Professor, placing the Dothraki blade across his knee. "The Second Sons are yours, and so is Daario Naharis. My sword is yours, and my life is yours. I swear to serve you both. From this day until my last day."