Already quite calm, she sat down on the table on which there were cages with dragons sitting in them. She let them out and now they were walking around freely or hugging to her. They were her only companions in the room. She stroked them slowly, even though it would be hard for her to reach behind her back, and that's where Rhaegal was.
"We're left alone..." she said with a sigh. She lowered her head slightly, which Viserion immediately tried to raise, causing a soft smile to appear on her face. "I'm afraid... I don't know if I can do it, she could definitely do it." she said this, thinking about Daenerys' plan to gain an army of the Unsullied. "What if it doesn't work out? What if they kill us, not we them? What if I can't get people to follow me?" she looked at Drogon, who was having fun with Maelia, they pushing themselves on Visenya's hand and arm. What if the dragon doesn't listen to her? There was no contingency plan.
She sat there for some time, considering the many unknowns. She wondered if she could be a charismatic leader that people would want to follow, a person they could trust to lead them to a better world.
Maybe they shouldn't just follow her?
"Maybe I can convince them to the goal? So that they don't fight just for me, but for the goal I want to achieve? A goal that should also be important to them?" she asked, even though she knew she wouldn't get any answer. "And how did you come to be in the basements of the Red Keep?" she tilted her head to get a better look at Maelia, who was currently hanging under her arm. The creature looked at her and tilted its head as well. "Is this also the work of this... Christer Renel? Who is he exactly? Why did Selaria never want to tell me anything about her brother..."
The man who took the letter from her in the Sept of Baelor was a mystery to her - and would probably remain forever, no matter how much she wanted to discover his secrets. All she knew was that he was the brother of her former maid and he was... Very specific. And that he supposedly saved her life. How? Why?
Selaria, why didn't you say anything about him? What were you hiding from me?
"Tomorrow is a big day..." she sighed again. "That you can't assure me that everything will be fine..." she wanted to say something more, but she heard someone open the door and then close it quickly. She turned her gaze to them. "You can come in."
"I'm sorry, Your Grace... I wasn't eavesdropping." it turned out to be Missandei. A woman that Daenerys also took as part of her deal with Kraznys.
When Visenya went to assure Kraznys that the deal could still go through, Missandei then asked her what she plans to do with her.
She wouldn't have the heart to leave her or send her somewhere, unless the girl herself wanted to go somewhere, explore the world or settle down and live a quiet life. However, Missandei had no such plans, so she decided to travel with Vis.
It was obvious that she didn't feel comfortable around her yet and hadn't had time to get used to the fact that she was no longer a slave, that Kraznys was no longer standing next to her, scolding her for the slightest slip-up and probably doing much worse things.
"I didn't accuse you of anything. Come in."
Visenya wanted them to be friends. It was obvious that she was missing close people in her life, people with whom she could talk about everything or confide. From the outside, it could also look like that, due to lack of self-confidence, she was looking for recognition from others, as if it would drive her to act. It was as if she couldn't believe in her own strength until someone else believed in her.
She promised herself that she would be strong. She must keep this promise at all costs.
"I'm sorry for your loss, Your Grace."
"Call me Visenya or Vis, whichever you prefer." she replied quickly to get off the subject of Daenerys. She didn't want to think about it, didn't want to sink into despair again when there was no time for it and it was pointless. "You're from Naath... What's it like there?" she asked, nodding to her to sit on the table as well, at the same time trying to get the dragons off her and back into their cages.
"Honestly, I don't remember much, I was very young when I was taken into slavery." she admitted, sitting down on the table. "I remember that there are beautiful beaches with white sand and the days are usually sunny. There are no marriages on Naath, so there are no problems with bastards."
This last thing particularly surprised Visenya. As a person raised in Westeros, she was used to the fact that only legitimate children have the right to inherit from their parents. Bastards have no right to anything, not even a surname - they are called depending on the region in which they live. Well, unless there is legitimization, then the bastard is treated the same as a legitimate child.
In Dorne they approach the matter a bit differently, where bastards are the fruits of love and passion, they do not despise them. After all, even her uncle Oberyn - the prince of Dorne - has a bastard daughters. She's never seen them, but she's heard about them.
All in all, Visenya missed her uncle a bit... She had only seen him a few times, but she liked him. She especially liked hearing stories about his adventures in life or when he told her about history.
"Just one look at those beautiful, long, silver locks... It's not every day a man gets to ride a dragon."
What would her life have been like if Tywin Lannister had returned her to where she belonged, to her family, to Dorne?
"I must visit this island one day."
"Better not, Your- Visenya." she corrected herself quickly. "Those arriving on the island contract butterfly fever and, unfortunately, die. Only locals are immune."
"Wouldn't you like to go back there?" Vis asked with obvious curiosity in her voice.
"There is no one to return to. If I can be of some use, I want to, I want to help."
Vis smiled gently and nodded. She understood the phrase "there is no one to return to" all too well. She herself felt that there was no home anywhere. Here she is a stranger, in Westeros she is unwanted. In Essos it may be easier, here they can get to know her, she has a chance to show her good side, but on the other side of the sea? People have their opinions, and it's hard to tear off the patch once it's sewn on.
How to change a world that doesn't want you in its doors?
She didn't even want to think about what would happen if she ever managed to return to the Seven Kingdoms and what - and who - she would have to face.
"You are an interpreter... How many languages do you know?" she asked, again out of curiosity.
"Nineteen."
"Nineteen?" she had never met anyone who spoke so many languages. The nobles in Westeros paid at most for Valyrian lessons for their children, and even that was very rare. She herself learned from some old books that Selaria brought her. Honestly? She was a little afraid to speak Valyrian, afraid that it would turn out that she couldn't pronounce words or put sentences together correctly. "How can someone know so many languages?"
"I had a lot of time to study." Missandei admitted. "Do you know any language other than the common one?"
"We'll see soon."
Her heart was beating as fast as it had probably never did before, as she stood facing all the Unsullied in Astapor and bent down a little to pick up a stick with a chain attached to it, the other end of which was locked around Maelia's paw.
They were those faceless soldiers from her dream. Just like when she had looked at them in her dream, she felt sorry for them now. Trained to obey all orders of their owner.
The white dragon stepped out of its cage and rose into the air as far as its chain would allow. Its scales turned iridescent blue in the sunlight, much to the delight of the gathered masters, especially Kraznys. She could see in his eyes that he couldn't wait to get his hands on the chained dragon.
She will never be a slave, neither of them will be. These... Children, they will never live the life I lived, ever.
She came within a step of Kraznys.
"Give me the whip first." she said, which Missandei quickly translated.
"Aspo pendagon, iksan jāre naejot rob zirȳla..." she didn't translate it, because the man quickly extended his whip towards Visenya.
*"The bitch thinks I'm going to rob her."*
Reluctantly, she reached out and grabbed the whip, then immediately stretched out her other hand to Kraznys, in which she was holding a dragon on a chain. He grabbed it very firmly, almost yanking it away from her, and a ghost of a smile quickly crossed his face.
Such people never have enough...
I won't be like that.
"It's all? Are they mine?"
"Ivestragon bona doru-borto līve ziry ōregon iā qilōny."
*"Tell that stupid whore she's holding a whip."*
"Yes, that's all, Your Grace. You hold the whip, they belong to you." it was a really delicate translation, but she couldn't blame her.
She slowly turned to the Unsullied, casting a slightly sad look at the dragon, who was already thrashing a bit on the chain, making sounds as if it was screaming for its... mother? Could she call herself like that?
Eight thousand soldiers stood before her, waiting for orders. What should she tell them? Was she supposed to immediately order them to get rid of all the masters and men holding whips? Will they really listen to her?
Her Valyrian is good enough that she understood all of Kraznys' words and the masters' conversations, but can she speak with the right accent?
"Dovaogēdy!" she shouted so that everyone could hear her. Immediately everyone assumed the adequate posture. She didn't see it, but Missandei looked in her direction, surprised to hear the word spoken almost pure in Valyrian. Suddenly, Visenya's words that it remained to be seen whether she knew any other language made sense. "Naejot memēbagon!" these types of commands are given to the soldiers, right? "Go forward", "Stop"?
She couldn't see it, but Kraznys was having more and more trouble controlling the dragon. He didn't even notice that Visenya was giving orders to the Unsullied without the help of Missandei.
"Keligon!" just as everyone started at the same moment, they also stopped at the same time.
"Ivestragon se aspo zirȳla dynī ȳdra daor māzigon." Kraznys said, but she didn't pay attention to him. It's now or never, now that she's found the courage to be here, she has put this to an end. She must order them to kill all the masters, all with whips. "Iksan alking naejot ao, ao līve!" of course Missandei translated everything, even though she had already guessed that Visenya knew Valyrian and didn't need any translations.
*"Tell that bitch her beast don't listen to me."*
*"I'm talking to you, you whore!"*
"Dovaogēdy!" she shouted again, then took a deep breath and looked at the whip in her hands. The whip, which she immediately dropped to the ground. Now Kraznys was looking at her. He looked at her as if he just realized that she was not only stupid, but also deaf. But no... Visenya needed that moment to gather herself, to order to kill someone for the first time.
This won't be the first time someone dies because of me.
And this time really bad people will die, I'm doing the right thing, I know that.
For the world.
"Ossēnagon se āeksia, ossēnagon se mentyr, ossēnagon tolvie vala qilōni ōregon iā qilōny! Yn ȳdra daor ōdrikagon mirre riña se mirre buzdari, yn ossēnagon se belma hen tolvie buzdari kesā ūndegon!" she said in a rather uncertain voice at first, but it gained strength with each word. She finished, speaking with real confidence.
*"Kill all the masters, kill all their soldiers and anyone holding a whip. But do not harm any child or slave, instead destroy the chains of every slave you see."*
At first she thought that they would not listen to her, that they would remain faithful to their tormentors, but no. She flinched when she saw the first of the whip-wielding men die, but each subsequent one didn't make the same impression on her.
She never had power, now she has it. Eight thousand people obeyed her order and intended to carry it out scrupulously.
"Ao ȳdragon Valyrīha, ao aspo?!" Kraznys shouted in panic.
*"You speak Valyrian, you bitch?!"*
"Valyrio muño ēngos ñuhys issa, hae iksan se ānogar hen uēpa Valyria. Iksan Visenya hen Targārien Lentor, drēje dārilaros naejot se dēmalion hen Westeros se zaldrīzes's tala. Iksi daor buzdari." she said confidently, even with a slight smile on her face.
*"Valyrian is my mother tongue, as I am the blood of Old Valyria. I am Visenya of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the throne of Westeros and daughter of dragons. We are not slaves."
It was the first time she truly believed she was born to rule. No... Not just for that, for something more. She survived for a reason. Perhaps this reason is something more than just taking the Iron Throne?
She heard the sounds of people being killed and swords being drawn. She also heard Kraznys shouting for someone to kill her to end this madness. Her gaze then moved to the snow-white dragon, who also looked at her. It only waited for one word from her.
"Dracarys." thus Kraznys was soon bathed in the glow of bright flames, accompanied by his own screams.
Just a dozen or so minutes were enough, and there was only sand floating everywhere, some of the large houses and city walls were destroyed by fire and silence reigned. A light breeze stirred the sand suspended in the air until Visenya had to squint to see the Unsullied positioned outside the city gates. Were they waiting for her?
After all, they are free too.
"I didn't know you spoke Valyrian." she heard ser Arthur next to her, who had previously been afraid - as it later turned out, quite unnecessarily - that one of the soldiers might attack her.
"You'll see that I'm full of surprises." she replied, with a tone that had rarely appeared in her words before. It was obvious that she became more confident. Although she had one more speech waiting for her, with which she had to convince them to follow her by choice and not by feeling forced.
She brushed some sand from her dark red outfit and hair as she stepped out through the ruined city gates. When she entered the formations of soldiers, she felt like she was in that dream, but she knew that now everything was happening in reality. And she only has one chance.
"Dovaogēdy! Pār īlē riñar, īlē buzdari! Sir bisa jēda mōris, ao sagon dāez sir! Aōha glaesagon iksis mērī aōhon, ao iderēbagon skorkydoso naejot glaesagon ziry! Kostā jikagon se daorys kessa keligon ao iā ōdrikagon ao, iā kostā umbagon! Lo ao iderēbagon naejot jikagon oltorī nyke ao daor oltorī mērī nyke, yn ñuha visīda syt se vys! Vys mijegon buzdari se āeksia, kesīr se tolī va se tolie paktot hen embar! Kessa ao ivīlībagon se sȳrkta vys, kessa ao ivīlībagon nyke?!" as she spoke, she walked between the smaller units, shouting loud enough for everyone to hear. She felt more confident with her Valyrian and wasn't afraid to speak to them in it. And most importantly: After today, she will no longer be afraid of death.
*"Unsullied! You have been slaves since childhood! Now that time is over, you are free! Your life belongs only to you and you decide how you want to live it! You can leave and no one will stop or hurt you, or you can stay! If you decide that you want to follow me, you follow not only me, but also my vision of a new world! A world without slaves and masters, here, and then also on the other side of the sea! Will you fight for a better world, will you fight for me?!"*
At first there was complete silence. No one said a word, but that didn't discourage her, even though her self-confidence was still very fragile at that moment.
Suddenly, somewhere behind her, the first tip of the spear hit the ground, beating a certain rhythm, and others followed. After a few seconds, an uneven sound echoed in the air, but a few moments later, everyone was beating the same rhythm.
They all made the same choice. They will follow the silver-haired queen and her noble goal.
King's Landing. Small Council Chamber. Tywin Lannister, Hand of the King, is currently reading a letter that Varys received from one of his "birds" in Essos. He doesn't look happy or particularly concerned about the information. So is it good or bad?
"Daenerys Targaryen is dead." he said, revealing some of the contents of the letter aloud to the other members of the Small Council. "So we can conclude that there is no longer even the specter of threat from across the sea." he rolled up the letter and put it aside.
"My Lord, but Visenya Targaryen is still alive." Tywin didn't like this Varys' remark. He didn't like everything about it, especially the fact that he used the name given to her by her mother, not by him.
He used the name of the great warrior queen, sister-wife of Aegon the Conqueror, one of the most important women of House Targaryen. The name given to this girl was supposed to give hope and remind her of the family's glory days and its power.
But most importantly, it reminded him of his own failure, or rather his son's failure. He fell for her and she used him to escape. Moreover, this traitor, her maid, also helped her.
Now she's in the dungeons. If "Visenya" decides to come back one day, he will make sure that she understands her mistake very clearly.
He underestimated his opponent again, just like he did with Robb Stark.
Besides, he has already figured out a way to deal with this bantling, he just needs to implement it.
"Maegelle is not a threat." he stated dryly.
"She now commands the army of Unsullied and is advised by two great knights. In addition, she has four dragons.
"They are small. The last dragons were no bigger than dogs." Cersei replied to Varys, adopting a similar tone as her father had just done.
She herself was quite contemptuous of Visenya, although she was somewhat glad that she had escaped because it meant that Jaime would not marry her. But at that moment, another fear came to her, regarding a prophecy she had once heard...
"You will be queen... For a time. Then comes another. Younger, more beautiful... To cast you down and take all you hold dear."
"What if those get bigger?"
"If you think she's a bigger threat than the Northern rebellion, then you can do something about it, although we have more important matters to worry about." with these words, Lord Tywin considered the matter is finished. At least for this sitting.