Author's Notes: I would like to thank the readers who are supporting me with their comments, Kudos, bookmarks and faves. You're treasures!
In Chapter 14 - Aemon I, you may recall: Ser Barristan knows about the other timeline.
COVID-19: This pandemic business is serious and I hope you are all taking precautions. I am currently healthy and staying at home. I hope you are too!
Catzrko0l once more did a stellar job ensuring this chapter reads smoothly. Thank you very much! You're the best!
Chapter 68
Daenerys VII
She smiled and wondered as she watched Drogon and Rhaellon career and dive to scoop up fish into their jaws. Her heart leaped and her fingers tightened on the railing of the ship as she tried to quell her fierce protectiveness and unease. They had been sailing for a month and while the dragons continued to grow, they were barely the size of dogs. They were still so young and vulnerable that she felt the need to shelter them like a mother bird with her chicks. Out on the open ocean, there were few large birds about, so she allowed them some freedom until her unease became too much and she called them back to the ship.
"Princess, we've almost reached Astapor," Ser Barristan said to her.
Daenerys turned to him. She smiled, but it did not quite reach her eyes. Although she found the Kingsguard amiable, she continued to maintain a certain distance. She had to remind herself that Ser Barristan was not there strictly to serve her. He had separate orders from another, her nephew. Although she was eager to meet Aemon, she remained guarded. To become more comfortable with Ser Barristan, she would spend a little time each day asking after Aemon. It was peculiar and amusing the way Ser Barristan appeared to brighten at his own king's name. Most of what he sang were praises, so Daenerys took it with a grain of salt. She wondered at how bloody his bloodless war really had been.
"Are you sure this is necessary, Princess? I would prefer to return you straight to Westeros," the old knight said. It fascinated her how, despite his armor, he remained stoic and untouched by the burning sun. He was always on guard, never more than a few feet from her. He and her Bloodriders couldn't seem to resist eying each other with suspicion.
"You said that you were commanded to follow my orders. I have decided that we shall make a stop in Astapor," Daenerys announced, drawing herself up.
Ser Barristan cocked his head and gave her a meaningful look. "You wish to command the Unsullied," he stated simply.
She gasped and stared at him suspiciously.
"Princess, I may not live in Essos, but I am familiar with much in it. The Unsullied are among the greatest soldiers in the world. As Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, it is my duty to be informed of such things," he replied.
"Then you'll understand why I need them."
"Not particularly. King Aemon has his own army, the culmination of his allies: the North, the Riverlands, the Vale, the Westerlands, and the Reach. The Unsullied are hardly necessary."
Daenerys drew her mouth into a firm line. "I must insist, Ser Barristan."
He studied her for a moment. She thought she recognized the quirk of a small smile, but it was gone in an instant. "As you wish, Princess," he replied.
She eyed him until he stepped back a few paces and then returned once more to observing her dragons. However, instead of enjoying their cavorting, she became lost in thought. She was still uncertain about how she felt about Ser Barristan. Ser Jorah praised him as the most honorable knight in Westeros, yet he had only words of caution for her. He was a man of duty and had, after all, served the usurper in the intervening years since her family lost the throne. His allegiance was to the king, not to her.
"The king insists on marrying you, likely to solidify his claim to the throne," Ser Jorah had murmured to her one day.
She noticed that he kept a weather eye out for Ser Barristan. While the old knight was always close, he maintained a distance for privacy. Ser Barristan's demeanor also turned stiff and bristling when he saw Ser Jorah, lending to the fact that he clearly did not have a favorable opinion of her knight.
"His claim may be precarious," Ser Jorah had said. "You are a true dragon, Khaleesi. No one can deny that. You need not crawl to him for sanctuary. Make a stand!"
"I have no intention of challenging my own family," Daenerys shot back. "Don't think I have forgotten our conversation in Vaes Tolorro." He had warned her even back then.
"I am not suggesting you take the throne from him. I am suggesting you return to him in a more dignified manner. You are not simply a princess. You are a Khaleesi, who survived the Dothraki Sea and became the Mother of Dragons. Use that influence to win an army. Take power for yourself so that you will be in a better position to negotiate."
Daenerys had fallen quiet as she thought. It made sense. She was not a flower to simply add to a man's collection. Although Ser Barristan spoke highly of King Aemon, that his first intention toward her was to marry did not sit well with her. Viserys had threatened to rape her and reestablish the Targaryen dynasty her whole life. She would never allow herself to be used in the manner that Viserys threatened and Drogo had realized again. Now that she had her dragons, she realized how vulnerable she and they were. She needed to be careful and she needed to secure her own safety.
Despite Ser Jorah's warnings, she still longed to meet her nephew. From the way Ser Barristan spoke of him, King Aemon sounded like an upstanding man of discipline and honor. She hoped he and the Starks were as honorable as both Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan said. That they agreed when they so disliked each other had to mean something.
Ser Jorah stepped out on deck once more and brought Daenerys back to the present. She smiled. What would I do without him? She had nearly lost him multiple times, the most recent when he had refused to step on the deck of the ship. Ser Barristan had given him a letter, which he'd read quickly and stepped aboard. He had not told her what had been in the contents of the letter.
He strode over to her now with a nod and leaned over the railing to watch the dragons.
"We are but a day from Astapor, Khaleesi," he said.
"So I've been told," Daenerys replied.
"Have you thought about how to get the Unsullied? Ser Barristan may be amenable, but even he does not have enough money to buy more than one or two. I doubt he would spend it freeing slaves, no matter how it might please you."
"I have given it thought. I have little enough in value as it is, but those men deserve their freedom," Daenerys said. "I will free them. If they wish it, they shall serve as my army."
Ser Jorah shifted against her and she was reminded that he had sold men into slavery. He had changed though. He was no longer the type to engage in such a heinous crime. "You can't free everyone, Khaleesi."
She shot him the superior look that she had given Ser Barristan. "I can free enough. If they so choose, I will then take them to Westeros, where they will be free."
He nodded. "No one would sell them into slavery there." He shifted again and there was an expression of unease.
Daenerys eyed him and then finally asked, "Is that what your letter was about? Your own freedom?"
He glanced at her sharply but then nodded again. "The letter I received...is a pardon from King Aemon. He is willing to overlook my previous crimes, but I will never be reinstated as Lord of Bear Island. My aunt, Lady Maege, deserves it by far."
She hummed in agreement, but as he spoke, it struck her that King Aemon had written a pardon specifically for Ser Jorah. She narrowed her eyes. "How does the king know you're with me?"
Ser Jorah couldn't quite meet her eyes and he wetted his lips nervously.
"You're a spy," she whispered. The alarm and fear chilled her blood despite the hot afternoon sun. She turned away from him.
"Khaleesi, please! I wished to return to Westeros. It was only as I came to know you that I changed my mind. You deserve the throne, Khaleesi. More than the usurper, more than this Aemon."
"I will not allow you to speak treason within earshot of me, ser," the Kingsguard suddenly spoke up with a steely edge to his voice. "King Aemon is the rightful King of Westeros. Princess Daenerys may be worthy in her own way, but if she is to rule, she must marry him. That is the only way."
"Enough! Both of you," she shouted. "Ser Barristan, I have already agreed to return to Westeros. My decision on whether I marry will be contingent upon meeting my nephew, the king. Drogon, Rhaellon, come!"
At her call, the dragons twisted around in midair to follow her. She kept them at her side at nearly all times, except during the most beautiful days. She had devoted herself to teaching them control. It would prove useful to not have them breathe their flame for any reason while in the belly of a wooden ship.
She bristled when she heard footsteps behind her. She turned to see Ser Barristan following her at a distance with one of her bloodriders walking with him. Neither of them would let her go far, but they kept their distance.
It seems I can only rely on myself, Daenerys thought acidly. Myself and my dragons. The both of them think I am weak and ignorant. She sat on the bed and stroked both dragons as they sidled up to her. They will see.
|-The Dragon's Roar-|
"Dracarys!"
Daenerys' lips curled in satisfaction as Drogon sprayed the slaver holding his chain with flame. Even as he burned, the slaver continued to hold the chain as if he thought it might yet save him from the dragonfire. She took in a shuddering breath and abruptly looked away, her stomach churning at the burning smell of flesh.
It had taken every ounce of composure she had to politely listen to the slaver's speal regarding the Unsullied while he insulted her in Valyrian, clearly expecting her to not know it. She had not been able to contain her satisfaction when she proceeded to speak to the Unsullied in Valyrian and saw his growing horror. Jhiqui held the chain of Rhaellon and she hastily dropped it to let the cream colored dragon join her brother as they started spreading their flames among the slavers' guards.
Now you will no longer enslave children. Your practice is broken, she thought. The children will suffer no more from your horror. He had deserved death for the way he had tortured the innocent. Even the young slave woman serving as a translator bore the scars on her back of a life served at a Master's feet. That young woman stood next to her, remarkably serene as she witnessed the carnage wrought by the Unsullied and her dragons. She was dark skinned with large innocent eyes and they were of an age.
Daenerys turned to her now and asked in a pleasant tone, "What is your name?"
"This one's name is Missandei, Khaleesi."
"You are free now. You may go where you choose," Daenerys replied.
Missandei's eyes widened in surprise and hope. "If I may, Khaleesi, it would be an honor to serve at your side."
"I would be pleased to have you join my family," Daenerys said, smiling.
As the chaos continued around them, Daenerys turned towards her guards: the bloodriders, Ser Barristan, and Ser Jorah. Her bloodriders were as unmoved as ever, Ser Jorah stared around at the carnage with his mouth hanging open in slight shock, and Ser Barristan appeared unsurprised but troubled.
"Princess, I admire your resolve and your will, but I suggest we leave with all haste. King Aemon is not going to be interested in sparking a war in Essos. You are no longer a lone queen fighting for her territory, but a princess under the arm of House Targaryen ruled by King Aemon. Your actions represent Westeros," Ser Barristan said as he wore a deep frown.
Daenerys regarded Ser Barristan silently and hoped her frustration did not show on her face. There were still thousands upon thousands of men, women, and children enslaved in the many city-states across Essos. They all deserved their freedom. If only I could make Essos mirror Westeros in the way of slavery, she mused with some sadness. The slaves in Astapor would have to do. With luck, word would spread about how the Masters in Astapor were overcome and those once enslaved took the reins of their future. She hoped it would be enough to inspire all slaves in the other cities of Essos to equally take their fate into their hands. "Come, we shall wait aboard The Rhaella."
"Princess, we cannot fit ten thousand Unsullied onto her. We need more ships," Ser Barristan replied.
"It should be easy enough to find more in the harbor."
"Will you, too, take those by force?" He asked.
"This would be easier, Ser Barristan, if you did not question me with such suspicion," she said with a sigh of frustration.
"I need not reiterate that Westeros does not care to be embroiled in a war with Essos caused by a branch of House Targaryen. It would behoove you to belay suspicion. House Targaryen remains tarnished from the scars that your own father left on it before he perished. King Aemon has had to work very hard to rebuild trust in the Targaryens again," Ser Barristan said.
Daenerys turned sharply and narrowed her eyes at him. "How do you mean? The Targaryens were just and honorable rulers until the usurper began his rebellion."
Ser Barristan raised his eyebrows at her in surprise. "You are unaware of the events that led to Robert Baratheon rebelling?"
"I heard there was something about a Stark...lady who seduced Prince Rhaegar," Daenerys replied.
"I would delight in setting the record straight, if you will allow me? But preferably back on the ship, as we are returning to Westeros," Ser Barristan said, looking around once more at the carnage that waged around them. The Unsullied were so skilled and numerous that none of the remaining guards had been able to reach them. Even if they had, they would've had to get through her bloodriders, and then the two Westerosi knights.
"I will hold you to that, Ser Barristan. Drogon, Rhaellon, to me," Daenerys cried out in the maelstrom of sound. She saw the dragons circle back and descend so that they were flying just high enough that both of their chains dangled within reach and she took hold of them again and walked forward with her head held high.
Daenerys called for any nearby Unsullied, most of whom finished off their targets and reformed in front of her, bowing their heads. In Valyrian, she commanded them to peacefully secure all ships within the bay. They set out on their appointed task. In less than an hour, the captains of the largest ships were presented to her. She and her guards had left the arena where they had initially viewed the Unsullied and repurposed an abandoned shop for a shelter from the scorching sun. The dragons perched on the roof of the building above, hissing and preening themselves like cats.
Daenerys leveled her attention at the men who were marched before her. They shrank away from the dragons as they passed below their perch only for their knees to give out once they finally reached her. She couldn't decide if that was their fear making their knees weak or if they were simply being courteous by falling on them. It pleased her to soothe their fears away and she couldn't resist smiling once the terror melted from their faces.
The speech was the same: "I apologize for the violence, but I seek ships to Westeros to bear my ten thousand Unsullied. King Aemon and I shall reward you for your efforts if you were to assist me in this." The first part usually left the people staring in bewilderment and awe as though they couldn't quite believe her words.
"If, however, you wish not to take part in my return to my homeland, I understand and bid you well. I shall command my Unsullied to release your ships to go about your business," she said. "However, if my Unsullied find that you keep slaves among your cargo, they will be summarily released. Is that understood?"
She had seen a half dozen men by then and the second part of her demand tended to be met with a mixture of relief or disgruntlement. It made it easy to see who profited from slaves. She had half a mind to set her dragons on them, but Ser Barristan leaned over to whisper in her ear, "Princess, you cannot execute these men without a trial. Eliminating a horrid practice is one thing, but slavery is entrenched in Essos. All you would be doing is temporarily disrupting trade, which will only make you hated in the end. With the best interests for the reputation of House Targaryen and Westeros at heart, I must counsel you to not execute these men. Mercy is not a weakness."
Daenerys gave him an irritated stare and set her mouth into a firm line. I am not such a fool to not know that they won't return to the practice of selling and trading slaves in a heartbeat, she thought, but she closed her eyes and breathed. A vision of Viserys' countenance glaring at her but marred with thick gold having solidified onto his face came to her and she felt her breath freeze in her chest. The roiling rage from when he took Rhaego from her threatened to consume her, but a thought floating through the sea of red caused it to recede almost immediately: What would Viserys do to these men if they angered him so?
He would burn them alive, she thought, with the dragons. Without the dragons, he would take pleasure in beating them to death as he had done with the slaves in Drogo's Khalasar. Just like that, the desire to see the men perished left her and she felt an empty husk.
She let them be. A couple of them even pledged devotion to escorting her to Westeros. For a single moment, she considered outright denying the slave traders the opportunity, but Westeros was a land without slaves. Perhaps they would then be able to find better fortunes that no longer involved the enslavement of anyone. It seemed foolish not to grant them that opportunity. If there was any trouble, the Unsullied placed on the ships would enforce her rule.
After the eighth man had been escorted away, a woman stepped under the overhang. Daenerys sat up and cocked her head with interest. She was dark of skin wearing saltworn leather pants and a shirt and vest that left her arms bare. Thick swirling tattoos covered her arms in a design that struck Daenerys as cultural and a plethora of braids like the tentacles of a kraken fell around her shoulders. Unlike the men who had come before her, she did not tremble, but instead held her head high with the self-assurance of a queen and wore a keen smile.
"Khaleesi," the woman said in a melodic voice and a thick accent she didn't recognize, dropping herself into a deep bow. "It is an honor."
Daenerys raised her eyebrows at her and grinned. "Who might you be?"
The woman stood up and gave her a wide smile. "Lucia Hardy."
Daenerys saw Ser Barristan shift at her side.
"I see your Kingsguard is familiar. I am of the old House Hardy on Crackclaw Point in Westeros. My family branch split with the victory of the Usurper Robert Baratheon. It is with great pleasure that I learned he received a taste of his own medicine with the rise of King Aemon Targaryen," Lucia replied, her smile turning vicious.
"You're loyal to House Targaryen?" Daenerys replied with no small amount of surprise. Viserys had comforted himself over the years insisting that there were houses and people in Westeros awaiting their return. As they had continued to run from assassins, survive on meager rations, and move from hovel to hovel, she had eventually begun to doubt the veracity of that claim. Magister Illyrio's support had lessened her skepticism at least until Ser Jorah had explained to her that Magister Illyrio never extended a kindness he did not expect back.
"Yes, Khaleesi. We swore to your ancestor Visenya Targaryen and have kept our word ever since! We may be in the Crownlands but we shun the mainlanders and thumbed our nose at the Usurper. Ours was a bounty he never collected as long as he was king," Captain Lucia declared proudly.
"Oh?" Daenerys asked.
"They refused to pay their taxes, Princess. Men were sent to collect and few ever returned. King Robert did not consider them enough of a bother to try too hard," Ser Barristan answered. She thought she heard an undercurrent of disapproval in his voice.
"I see. I thank you for your efforts in resisting the rule of the Usurper," Daenerys replied. "You have heard that King Aemon has taken back the throne as is his right. Do you support him?"
Captain Lucia chuckled. "A boy raised by the Starks is hardly interesting, whether he is Targaryen or not. You, however...are far more fascinating. Surviving a marriage with a Khal, hatching dragons and becoming their mother. It is the making of a grand legend. I would be a fool not to heed the winds that blow in your direction, Khaleesi. My ships are your ships for whatever your purpose."
Daenerys' eyes widened and she smiled. "Ships?"
"Aye, Khaleesi. I am a merchant and I have several on hand. I commanded them to blockade the harbor once I saw the other merchants attempt to flee. You shall have more than enough to bear you and your Unsullied to Westeros," Captain Lucia bowed again.
"I am flattered by your loyalty and devotion, Captain Lucia, however, I have learned from bitter experience that no one offers such kindness without a price. Name your terms and I shall consider them," Daenerys replied. She was grateful for the schooling she had received in bearing herself and had finally wrested her excitement in her control.
Captain Lucia grinned again. "I knew I had chosen well. I wish to accompany you, to be a part of your legend. As lady luck smiles upon you, so I expect her to smirk at me. And a bit of gold wouldn't go amiss."
"Very well, I accept your aid, Captain. I will fill your ships to the brim with gold."
"I hope not, Khaleesi. A sunken ship can't sail to Westeros," Captain Lucia replied and burst into laughter.
"Not quite to the brim then," Daenerys said. "We have our ships. We are done here. Ser Jorah, accompany Captain Lucia. Order the Unsullied who are not holding our ships to return to the Plaza of Pride."
There was a moment of hesitation and Ser Jorah replied, "Yes, Khaleesi." She could hear Captain Lucia laughing and boasting long after they were out of sight.
She followed him with a frosty look. The knowledge of his betrayal from the day before left a raw wound in her heart. Despite his pleading eyes and the pain in his voice, she had yet to forgive him. He would still fulfill the orders she gave him, especially now that there were Unsullied to spear him a dozen different ways if he attempted to abandon his duty to her. Or worse.
"Princess, if I may?" Ser Barristan asked stiffly.
Daenerys sighed internally. She could appreciate his stalwart presence more now, especially after Ser Jorah's betrayal, but he was not fully on her side. As much as it irritated her, she could hardly begrudge him staying loyal to her nephew. "Yes, Ser Barristan?"
"I don't trust that captain. Merchants are a fast and loose lot. They don't become successful enough to have several ships by acting out of kindness or expending their resources out of loyalty. The seas are dangerous, especially for a woman. You might find her more ruthless than her appearance suggests."
There was heat in Daenerys' voice as she said, "I am more than familiar with ruthlessness. And if you haven't forgotten, I now have ten thousand Unsullied at my command. It would be easy to put her and her crew to slaughter if need be and she knows it. I see no harm in allowing a tagalong."
"If it's all the same, I must insist on being at your side at all times; either me, your bloodriders, or Ser Jorah." She bristled and glared at him, but he continued, "Even as much as I dislike Ser Jorah, I know his motives. He is loyal to you."
"Very well," she replied, but then straightened up as she saw her Unsullied begin to march towards her.
"These ones are yours to command, Your Grace," One of them said in Valyrian, dipping his head into a short bow.
"Yes, but first I would have you choose your commanders."
