296 AC - In Astapor:
Known for its elite force of Unsullied, eunuch slave-soldiers, Astapor sprawls along the Worm, a meandering stream flowing eastward from the Ghiscari hills. To the south lie the ruins of Old Ghis. Atop a westward reach of hills hides the Isle of Cedars, home to Ghozai and Velos, facing the Gulf of Grief. Yunkai, to the north, is distant by a hundred leagues, while Meereen lies an additional fifty leagues beyond. A swift ride could carry travelers from Astapor to Yunkai within 6 days, traversing the ancient Ghiscari coastal road.
By the time Anakin's ships reached the city of Astapor, the journey from Meereen had stretched six days, spanning nearly five-hundred miles across the turbulent waters of Slaver's Bay.
To his surprise, the voyage had been more peaceful and comfortable than he expected it to be. The last time he'd been aboard a ship, things had been far less forgiving. Perhaps his new position of power had a way of softening the journey. Or perhaps it was simply that nothing could be as grueling as the voyage he'd endured in chains.
As their ships glided into the midday sun over the harbor, his gaze fell upon the crumbling statue of the Astapori harpy perched atop the gate to the port. It was a relic of a crueler time, but a time not yet past, as the very sight of the city reminded him. He stood at the bow of his ship, watching as the creaking masts and red brick towers of Astapor came into view, their shadows etched against the sky.
Once docked, he was accompanied into the heart of the city by Camarron, Strong Belwas, Hizdahr, and a handful of trusted guards. Meanwhile, the bulk of his men - the 501st Legion, now his personal battalion - remained with the ships. Five vessels, each bearing one hundred soldiers, all carried the banners of Meereen, the harpy emblazoned on each, rippling in the breeze.
It wasn't a symbol of pride, but rather one of strategy. They hadn't been attacked on sight, and Anakin assumed that their sigil had served their purpose, intriguing the Good Masters of Astapor.
Just as Anakin and his group prepared to leave the harbor in search of the Good Masters, they were intercepted by a woman. She was slender, with dark skin and sharp eyes, accompanied by several Unsullied guards. She greeted them in the Common Tongue, identifying herself as Missandei, a slave woman speaking on behalf of the Good Masters.
Missandei's striking appearance radiates with a luminous complexion that complements her smooth, dark skin. Her eyes, reminiscent of molten gold, convey a profound depth of emotion and reflect her keen intellect and compassionate nature. Her hair is sculpted into elaborate curls. Her face exudes elegance, its well-defined features harmoniously blending to create a captivating portrait of beauty. With a graceful stature standing at 5 foot 7, Missandei's slender physique exudes an air of fitness and poise. *Nathalie Emmanuel*
Hesitantly she addressed, "On behalf of the Good Masters, I welcome you to Astapor. Your… Grace?" her tone, polite and measured, was clearly unsure of the proper title to refer to him as.
Anakin scrutinized her. She was a slave, yet well-spoken, poised even. How loyal was she to the Good Masters? He knew that if he were going to convince slavers to sell him their most valued product, he would need to play the part. He would need to act like them - like a slaver.
With a deliberate, lecherous gaze, Anakin stepped closer to Missandei, making sure she noticed. He adopted the haughty demeanor of a prince, almost imitating his uncle Viserys, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Could the 'Good Masters' not be bothered to greet the King of Meereen themselves?" His words heavy with condescension, his expression a calculated sneer.
Missandei, unflinching, appeared accustomed to this kind of treatment. She bowed her head slightly, her voice calm and practiced. "I have been assigned to escort you to meet with Kraznys mo Nakloz, My Lord. He awaits you in the burg of the Good Masters."
Anakin gave a curt nod, gesturing for her to lead the way. She turned and began to guide them through the chaotic streets of Astapor, their small retinue following in her wake.
The docks behind them gave way to a grim sight - what the locals called the 'Walk of Punishment.' Here, slaves who had dared to disobey or resist their masters were crucified and left to die. Their bodies, gaunt and pale, hung from crosses along the sea wall, their agony on display for all to see. It was a grotesque reminder of the price of rebellion in this city - a warning to all others in chains.
Anakin clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists at his sides as they walked past the crucified slaves. His anger simmered beneath the surface, his disgust almost palpable. But he forced himself to keep his emotions in check. If his plan were to work, he needed to maintain his composure. Rage would come later - once he had what he needed. He didn't want to stay in this foul city a second longer than necessary.
Finally, they arrived at a towering, round structure at the end of the sea wall. It resembled a castle, with high stone walls and a crouching golden statue of a winged harpy atop its roof. Armed guards patrolled the battlements, their eyes watching Anakin and his party closely as they made their way inside.
They entered what seemed to be an outdoor throne room, though it more closely resembled a miniature fighting pit. Banners hung from iron bars, and three large chairs sat on a raised dais, occupied by the men known as the Good Masters.
At the center sat Kraznys mo Nakloz, a tall, portly man with a cruel smile playing on his lips. To his left was Greizhen mo Ullhor, gaunt and sharp-featured, his eyes darting over them with cold calculation. And to the right was Hazdahn Mo Rhaohl, silent and watchful, his face obscured by a veil of indifference.
Anakin's eyes flicked to them, his face impassive as he surveyed the so-called 'Good Masters.' He could feel the anger boiling in his veins. These men were the embodiment of everything he despised - greed, cruelty, slavery. But for now, he would play the part. He would be what they expected.
For now, the mask of a highborn remained firmly in place.
Kraznys, speaking only in Low Valyrian, relies on Missandei to translate as he is not familiar with the Common Tongue of Westeros. He asks through her if Anakin is the self-proclaimed 'King of Meereen,' to which he responds in a monotonous tone, "I rule over Meereen, yes."
Kraznys then inquires about Anakin's reason for sailing his army to Astapor. Missandei relays the question and he, straightforwardly, states that he only has 500 men compared to the formidable Unsullied army. He explains that he has come to discuss the acquisition of the Unsullied warriors, praising their strength and flattering the masters.
Missandei then presents Kraznys's response, who is skeptical, asking him why he desires to possess an army. Last he heard Meereen was having riots, but nothing their own City-Watch couldn't handle.
Anakin counters this by referring to his advisor, Hizdahr zo Loraq, a prominent slave-trader, and using the status of his house to back up his legitimacy amongst the Great Masters of Meereen.
"Zo Loraq? I am familiar with your father," Kraznys said, becoming more at ease upon recognizing Hizdahr and his family's status.
Hizdahr, feeling uncomfortable with Anakin using his family's name like this, responds, "The people believe in King Anakin Targaryen. And I serve the people of Meereen. Admittedly, there has been…a… period of adjustment, but I am confident that the future will be even brighter than the past." Making a subtle jab at Anakin, whom he has been trying to persuade to gradually decrease slavery instead of abruptly ending it, Hizdahr pleads his case.
Attempting to portray himself as a typical power-hungry ruler, Anakin puts on his best charming façade. "During my ascent, Meereen lost a large number of its fighting force. The city has become somewhat… lawless. Unfortunately there are those seeking to take advantage, insurgents and neighboring states alike. With utmost humility, I beseech your invaluable assistance in strengthening my forces with your renowned warriors."
Kraznys questioned, "Why should we help you? Why not just wait and pick up what's left in the end?"
"Because what is left won't be what I am offering you. I will pay you double for each and every Unsullied you have," Anakin responds.
As Missandei relays their words, the Good Masters are taken by surprise. "Double? Did this one's ears mishear, Your Grace?" She is forced to clarify, as the masters struggle to believe the offer.
"Yes. Eight-thousand. And the ones still in training as well," he affirms.
"Master Greizhen says they cannot sell half-trained boys. If they fail on the battlefield, they will bring shame upon all of Astapor," Missandei speaks for one of the masters.
"I will have them all or take none. Many will fall in battle. I'll need the boys to pick up the swords they drop," he callously comments .
The Good Masters engage in a conversation about this proposal from the self-proclaimed 'king', who, from their point of view, seems to have recently acquired a vast amount of wealth and is seeking an army. It is not uncommon for wealthy highborns to buy armies from Astapor, as they struggle to gather their own forces. Judging by the meager number of troops this one has brought with him, the masters assume this to be the case.
Missandei speaks on behalf of the Good Masters and clarifies their terms. In light of Meereen's reputation as the richest city in Slaver's Bay, the overconfident Kraznys insist on a price three times the worth of each Unsullied. Unwavering, Anakin consents to the cost, prompting Kraznys to chuckle, relishing in a transaction that evidently leans heavily in his favor.
The Good Masters stand and offer their hands, signaling their acceptance of the deal. "Done," Anakin affirmed, prompting Kraznys to echo, "Done," as they sealed the deal with a handshake and shared a cup of wine.
As they drank, Anakin's gaze wandered toward Missandei, who stood nearby, her hands clasped at her waist and her head bowed. Her dejected expression reminded him of the slaves he had seen so often in Meereen, waiting on their masters beck and call.
Glancing around the room, his eyes met those of several enslaved children watching from the open-air rooftop. Their curious glances evoked memories of people's initial fascination with him due to his Valyrian features. A pang of sadness washed over him as he couldn't do for them what he did in Meereen.
With a charismatic grin and a resolute tone, Anakin addressed Missandei. "I'll take you as well. Now," he declared. "You'll be Master Kraznys's gift to me. A token of a bargain well struck." he said, finishing his wine.
"He asks that you give me to him, as a present," Missandei conveyed his words to the Good Masters. "He asks that you do this now."
The Good Masters are pleasantly pleased by what they can surmise of Anakin, or at least by what Anakin wanted them to surmise of him. Little was known about this new king in Meereen, and it has been a thousand years since they last had a king. Custom and caution had an iron grip upon them, but now, the Good Masters believe a new time has come, and new things are possible with this more placable king.
In the words of the Kraznys mo Nakloz, he viewed the Great Masters of Meereen as: "Old men with withered cocks and crones whose puckered cunts were dry as dust. They sat atop their pyramids sipping apricot wine and talking of the glories of the Old Empire whilst the centuries slipped by and the very bricks of the city crumbled all around them. We are glad to see you are more 'open-minded'."
Finally, as they agreed to give him Missandei, an agreement is also reached to meet in the Plaza of Pride to finalize the transaction. His companions struggled to keep up as Anakin strode determinedly past the sea walls.
"Your Grace, such an expense is reckless. I must implore you to reconsider," Hizdahr expressed his doubts. Little did he know, Anakin had hidden intentions. This uncertainty left the noble anxious and concerned about his intentions, especially since he had used his family name.
"Don't worry. I know what I'm doing," Anakin reassured him, but his words only elicited a puzzled look.
As Anakin walked away, he joined Missandei, who was walking closer to Belwas and the security personnel. He politely asked them for a moment alone with her, before turning his attention to the woman now under his 'ownership.'
"So… Missandei, do you have a family? A mother and a father you'd return to if you had the choice?" Anakin inquired.
"No, Your Grace. No family living," she responded.
"You belong to me now. It is your duty to tell me the truth," he probes, seeking greater understanding of her perspective.
"Yes, Your Grace. Lying is a great offense. Many of those on the 'Walk of Punishment' were taken there for less," Missandei answered, still avoiding his gaze.
"So I've seen," remarks Anakin. "Is it true what Master Kraznys told me about the Unsullied? About their obedience?"
"All questions have been taken from them. They obey, that is all. Once they are yours, they are yours. They will fall on their swords if you command it," she confirms.
En route back to the harbor, Hizdahr continues to urge Anakin not to purchase the Unsullied, arguing that the soldiers of Meereen are more than committed to his cause.
Amidst the distraction of a playful child trailing him and Missandei, they arrive at the docks.
The blonde girl presents Anakin with a wooden ball as a gift, but as he reaches for it, he hears an ominous whisper in his mind once more. The girl motions for him to open the ball, but he hesitates, his mind filled with suspicion. Instead of engaging with the playful child, Anakin throws the wooden ball into the nearby waters, his eyes never leaving the girl. The little girl, now angry, runs away.
Missandei observes the scene with a mix of amusement and compassion, witnessing the girl's seemingly innocent play. Concerned about her new master's character, she questions what kind of man she has been sold to, though doubts it couldn't be any worse than her servitude under Kraznys.
Anakin proceeded to direct Hizdahr to manage the gold distribution while Camarron and Belwas assembled a detachment of men for their imminent venture. With Missandei in tow, he boarded the ship and retreated to the secluded captain's cabin. Once inside, he removed his gloves, and unburdened, he collapsed onto a chair.
That arrogant prince persona had exhausted him more than any battle he had ever faced. He observed Missandei's tense posture as she remained poised by the cabin door. It was evident that he wasn't the only one wearied by his performance.
"Do you know why I chose to purchase you, Missandei?" inquires Anakin, his head tilting slightly.
"No, Your Grace," she responded.
"Why do you think?" he asked as his eyes scanned her up and down.
She looks around at the empty room, her eyes wary and expectant. In her eyes, Anakin could see the assumption forming. She surveyed her surroundings once more before making her way over to him. The young woman's demeanor shifted, anticipation mixed with apprehension.
"What will it be, Your Grace?" she ventured, her voice laced with resignation.
As they stood face to face, she inched closer, her nerves evident as she fumbled to loosen the clasps of her dress, kept fastened by her slave-collar. When she exposed her bare chest, Anakin abruptly rose and hastily redressed her, halting her from going further.
"Okay. That's enough. That… tells me enough," he says, before gently resting his hand on her shoulder. His expression softened, and he spoke firmly yet gently. "I didn't buy you for that," he said, catching her off guard. "That's… not what I'm here for."
Confusion clouded her features briefly before her curiosity ignited. "Then why?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Anakin's uncertainty about the Good Masters' belief in who he portrayed himself to be was put to rest, with Missandei all but confirming it for him, providing much-needed relief. As a result, he can confidently move forward with his plan.
In the Plaza of Pride:
After several hours, Anakin and his companions convene to meet Kraznys in a bustling open market frequented by the city's slavers, including the Good Masters, who showcase their merchandise to potential buyers.
The ground is laid with red bricks, and at the heart of the plaza stands a striking red brick fountain featuring a monstrous bronze harpy towering twenty feet high. With a woman's face adorned with gilded hair, ivory eyes, and sharp ivory teeth, she commands attention. Yellow water cascades from her prominent breasts, carrying a scent reminiscent of brimstone. Instead of arms, it boasts wings reminiscent of a bat or dragon, and her legs are those of an eagle. Completing her imposing figure is a curled, venomous scorpion tail. From her talons hangs a heavy chain, each end ending in an open manacle.
As they approach the vast field, they are greeted by a formidable sight - thousands of Unsullied standing in perfect formation. Out of the 13,600 soldiers, 8,600 are seasoned fighters while the remaining 5,000 are still in training.
The Unsullied are clad in black leather armor, secured by metal rivets and adorned with intricate metal studs arranged in a diamond pattern on the chest. They wield simple spears and shields, their faces hidden behind menacing black helmets, save for their eyes.
Accompanied by the two other Good Masters and a small group of guards, Kraznys emerges from the towering wall as grand doors swing open. The bustling courtyard is filled with both guards, nobles, and commoners alike.
Anakin and Missandei are escorted by Kraznys through the courtyard to inspect the Unsullied, with Belwas and Camarron following closely from a distance. A thousand Unsullied have been marched out of their barracks for their inspection and drawn up in ten ranks of one hundred before the fountain and its great bronze harpy. The Unsullied part way, breaking formation to create a path for them as they walk.
Finally, they reach their destination and the soldiers immediately get back into formation, resuming their motionless stance. The group then ascends to a podium at the far end of the courtyard, overlooking the troops.
"How are they trained?" Anakin asked, with Missandei acting as his translator now.
"They begin their training at five. Every day they drill from dawn to dusk until they have mastered the shortsword, the shield, and the three spears. Only one boy in four survives this rigorous training. Their discipline and loyalty are absolute. They fear nothing," she spoke for Kraznys.
"Not even death?" presses Anakin.
"Death means nothing to them. He implores you to watch," Missandei declared as Kraznys descended to the field of Unsullied.
Anakin was disgusted by such tales, but his horror only increased when Missandei revealed that to earn their shield, the Unsullied had to kill a newborn baby in front of its mother. 'This man… these people… are scum,' Anakin thought, teetering on the edge of giving in to his anger as he listened to him talk.
"The master says they are untested. He says you would be wise to blood them early. There are many small cities between here and there, cities ripe for sacking. Should you take captives, the masters will buy the healthy ones and for a good price." With Anakin fixed on the expressionless faces of the Unsullied, Misandei continued to translate Kraznys' words into the Common Tongue. "And who knows? In ten years, some of the boys you send them may be Unsullied in their turn. Thus all shall prosper."
He remained as emotionless and as expressionless as the Unsullied until Kraznys finally asked, "So, do we have a deal?"
With a charming grin, Anakin makes a gesture to his men, who begin to transport heavy crates bursting with gold through the square. Kraznys eagerly moves to examine the chests, presenting him with the harpy's fingers, a whip designed for punishing slaves in Astapor.
Its handle, crafted from intricately carved black dragonbone and adorned with gold inlay, is striking. Attached to it are nine long leather lashes, each ending in a gilded claw. The golden pommel features the likeness of a woman's head, complete with pointed ivory teeth. This whip is bestowed upon the new masters of the Unsullied as a symbol of payment.
"Is it done, then? They belong to me," Anakin questioned, inspecting the extravagant whip in his hand.
"It is done. You hold the whip. You have your army," Missandei speaks for Kraznys, unaware of Anakin's intentions or that he fully comprehends Valyrian.
She recognized that he opposed slavery, a sentiment clearly reflected during their second stroll along the sea wall. His expression was one of disgust as they passed the area known as the Walk of Punishment. The anger he felt towards the enslaved individuals on display was so apparent that she questioned how she hadn't noticed it the first time. Missandei had initially been taken aback by his earlier haughty and arrogant demeanor, dismissing him without much thought. Yet now, she found herself contemplating his interest in the Unsullied if not as slaves.
Anakin pivots slowly and makes his way towards the army, who immediately snap to attention upon his commanding voice in High Valyrian: "Forward march!" The Unsullied obediently move forward. He then commands them to halt and they do so abruptly.
Both Missandei and the Good Masters are surprised by his fluency in Valyrian, with Kraznys wondering if he has been making a fool of him the entire time.
Like a shot, Anakin pivots again and faces Kraznys, stretching out his hand to levitate him in mid-air with an unseen power. The onlookers, from the townspeople to the Unsullied, are stunned into silent murmurs.
Conversely, Camarron had been eagerly awaiting this moment since their arrival in Astapor. Having battled for freedom alongside Anakin, stepping into a city that evoked memories of their former shackles reignited his anger. He pondered if Anakin had experienced something similar, and evidently, he had.
Standing before the army of Unsullied, Anakin raises his hand with the golden whip in it and issues orders in their mother tongue, "I am Anakin Targaryen, of the blood of Old Valyria! Unsullied! Slay the masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who holds a whip! Harm no child. Strike the chains off every slave you see!"
It happens almost immediately. The Plaza of Pride erupts into chaos.
In response to his rally, an Unsullied warrior swiftly impales a slave holder, instilling fear in the locals and the Good Masters' personal guards. As directed, the Unsullied launch a powerful attack on the city, killing the Good Masters and liberating the enslaved populace, reminiscent of Anakin's previous victory in Meereen.
Using the Force, he drags Kraznys closer to him, causing the latter to gasp for air as he slowly suffocates.
"Y-You…You said," Kraznys attempts to express his shock and betrayal at being attacked by an unseen force, but Anakin interrupts and coldly confesses, "I lied."
He effortlessly snaps the neck of Kraznys mo Nakloz, his lifeless bodies collapsing to the ground as he releases his hold over him.
Continuing his mission, Anakin's legion and the Unsullied launch an attack on the city of Astapor.
The swift onslaught overwhelms the city's weak defenses. With 8,600 Unsullied soldiers under his immediate control, he orders them to switch sides and overthrow the masters in Astapor. His plan is not to conquer the city, as he did with Meereen, but to catch the slavers off guard and gain control of their army before they realized his intention to end slavery in the entire region.
Anakin acknowledged that if the other cities in Slaver's Bay launched an attack on Meereen they would without a doubt overpower his own forces. However, by liberating the Unsullied army, he has now eliminated what he perceived to be his biggest threat in Slaver's Bay. Other than the Red City, he expects Yunkai to respond in a similar manner and plans to deal with them sooner rather than later.
That is, if this next part of his plan works out.
After the Fall of Astapor, the courtyard is filled with smoke and the debris of burnt corpses. Anakin instructed that all who had died, including his own soldiers, were cremated in order to quickly resolve the situation here.
Camarron, Belwas, and Missandei stand in the midst of rubble, observing their surroundings. They walk towards Anakin, who confidently strides through rows of heavily armed Unsullied warriors.
He watched them with a mixture of intrigue and sadness, his gaze tracing the lines of their disciplined formation, each soldier a mirror of the one beside him. They stood in perfect, unyielding rows, eyes fixed forward, expressions as still and unreadable as stone. Yet, despite their fierce demeanor and unbreakable posture, there was a hollowness there, something he couldn't quite ignore.
'They're… unlike any other soldiers I've seen,' he said to himself. 'So quiet. Unwavering. But it's as if they've had something stripped away, something human.' He couldn't shake the feeling that there was a kind of tragic brilliance in the Unsullied's creation - a brilliance forged by cruelty.
Anakin had heard enough tales from Kraznys of their training, each story more harrowing than the last: brutal drills, merciless obedience, and unimaginable sacrifices. They had been made into something more than men, yet less than human. Their will was tempered into a single purpose, a blunt instrument shaped to serve, to conquer, to protect on command. It was clear they feared nothing and had given everything, even their own identities, to become the unbreakable wall before him.
'Imagine what they could be,' a soft voice mused ominously in his head. It was that very voice, which had once planted numerous violent thoughts in his mind, that now offered a more considered suggestion. 'Imagine if they were fighting for something more - if they could be free and still wield such strength. How powerful would they be, then?' the voice carried a note of wonder. Anakin saw potential in the Unsullied, not merely as soldiers, but as people yearning for a cause, a purpose, beyond obedience.
As he prepares to present his proposal, he carefully examines the men who have remained loyal to him, traveling with him on this journey from Meereen. Belwas approaches Anakin, handing him the reins to a horse. He climbs onto the stunning pure white mare, a strong connection between him and the animal evident against the backdrop of the crimson sunset. Their white hair shines, creating a sharp contrast.
Navigating through the soldiers, he begins speaking to them, "Unsullied! You have been slaves all your life. Today you are free. Any man who wishes to leave may leave, and no one will harm him. I give you my word. Will you fight for me? As free men?"
One Unsullied starts tapping his spear on the sand in a rhythmic pattern, soon joined by his fellow soldiers until their unified sound becomes deafening. As they unilaterally pledge their loyalty to Anakin and choose him as their leader, Missandei looks on at the awe-inspiring scene.
Accompanied by his original group of men, Anakin, his party, and the newly acquired 13,600 Unsullied, set out through the main gate of the vast courtyard. With a determination to end the practice of slavery, he casts the harpy's fingers into the midst of the Good Masters' burning corpses, a symbolic gesture.
With the Unsullied on his side, Anakin instructed Camarron and Hizdahr to return the ships and most of the 501st Legion to Meereen. Recognizing his lack of ships to ferry his newly acquired army, and seeing said army's skill firsthand, Anakin made a change in plans.
Determined to eliminate immediate threats, he set his sights on Yunkai, marching the Unsullied directly to the Yellow City, a journey that would span approximately 6 days.
On the Coastal Road toward Yunkai:
As Anakin departs from Astapor en route to Yunkai, he entrusts the governance of the city to a council comprised of three individuals: a healer, a scholar, and a priest. However, he is aware that they may not be equipped to effectively rule a city like Astapor.
Along his voyage, Anakin was tormented by a deep sense of remorse for his perceived failure to aid the oppressed slaves in the Red City. He worried that his actions may have made things worse for them. Despite this, he recognized that sacking the city and acquiring the Unsullied was a necessary step in his mission to end slavery.
Throughout his journey, two things made a profound impression on him.
The first were the Unsullied warriors. Their combat prowess surpassed any military force he had encountered, even though he hadn't seen many armies, their unparalleled skill and unwavering dedication set them apart from the rest. Anakin did not view their strict upbringing and lack of autonomy as a flaw as they would meticulously follow any order he issued.
The second noteworthy element of his journey was Missandei. Initially, he offered the Naathi woman gold, freedom, and a chance to stay in Astapor or do as she wanted, but she chose to follow him instead. He believes that her decision was influenced by her support for his cause against slavery, or maybe it was just out of fascination with his powers. Regardless of the reason, Missandei proved to be an interesting addition. He grew fond of her character, her sharp mind immediately catching his attention.
Five days along their march to Yunkai, they settled into the camp for the night. Huddled around a crackling fire, Missandei enraptured Anakin with the tale of her enslavement.
She and her siblings had once lived contentedly on the tropical island of Naath before being violently captured by raiders from the Basilisk Isles and forced into servitude in Astapor. While three of her brothers were trained and transformed into fierce Unsullied soldiers, unfortunately one perished during the rigorous process. Now only Marselen and Mossador remained, carrying the weight of their traumatic past.
"Your brother Mossador has the same name as a friend of mine. Or at least I think he's a friend," Anakin shared with her.
"Yes, I remember Mossador teaching me to climb trees. Though, my real gift was in learning languages. The Good Masters chose to keep me as a scribe and translator. I speak nineteen languages," she recalls with fond memories.
"Impressive… most impressive. That's eight more than I speak," Anakin complimented.
As they gazed at the flickering fire, Missandei dared to ask the pressing question that had been consuming her thoughts since they embarked on their journey. "How did you kill them? Master Kraznys, I mean."
He was slightly taken aback by her inquiry, as he was not accustomed to discussing his powers. The people of Meereen were much more accommodating, bestowing upon him the title of 'The Chosen One' and viewing him as divinely favored. He neither accepted nor denied their beliefs, understanding the importance of having allies in his current circumstances.
So, he explains, "I don't really know what it is. It's like an unseen force." While he struggles to find the right words to explain the force, something he has never had to consider before, he picks up a rock from the ground and levitates it around his hand. "Life creates it, makes it grow. Its energy surrounds us… and binds us."
"So… magic…" Missandei responds, while the rock he levitates floats closer to her.
"Perhaps," replied Anakin, uncertain of the origin of this power. All he understood were its triggers: Serenity, Joy, Anger, Confusion, and Sadness.
Emotions.
"I never believed in magic. Reminds me too much of faith," Missandei remarks, capturing the floating rock from the air and scrutinizing it in her palm.
"That's where you're wrong. Faith is belief for beliefs sake. No explanation needed. Magic has its explanation. Even if we don't know it yet," he said as stood from his seat across from her.
They lingered by the fire a bit longer while Missandei struggled to comprehend Anakin's words, and Anakin, in turn, reflected on the nature of his abilities. For the first time, a question emerged in his mind: 'I'm not the only one capable of wielding the Force, am I? Surely not. Life creates it after all.' He contemplated this notion deeply.
"We should get some sleep. We have an early morning tomorrow," Anakin finally snapped out of his thoughts before reaching into the flames with his bare hand and pulling out a log. He left the vicinity of the fire and made his way towards his tent with some interesting thoughts in mind.
The next day began just like the previous five had.
The group, including the Unsullied, advances across the terrain. Anakin sits atop his white horse, accompanied by Missandei, who is mounted on her own horse in close proximity. They stop by a river further ahead where he seeks out her help in locating leader's amongst the Unsullied.
A score of Unsullied men march forward and come to a stop in their presence. "Are these the ones?" Anakin asked her, gesturing towards the soldiers standing before them.
"Yes, your grace. The officers," she confirms, introducing the assembled men.
As a group of Unsullied officers are presented to him, Anakin addresses them in High Valyrian, "You did not choose this life. But you are free men now. And free men make their own choices. Have you selected a leader from amongst your ranks?"
The segment of soldiers part ways to unveil their elected leader, who goes by the name Grey-Worm.
At approximately 5 foot 8, Grey-Worm's height aligns with the typical stature of the Unsullied. His lean yet muscular physique is characteristic of a highly trained soldier. Agile and proficient in combat, he embodies the discipline and rigor of his fellow Unsullied. His shaved head mirrors the uniform appearance of his men, who undergo intensive training and conformity. His dark, intense eyes convey his focused and disciplined nature. Grey-Worm's smooth, dark complexion is often concealed beneath the distinctive armor and uniform of the Unsullied. *Jacob Anderson*
Head lowered, he takes off his helmet and strides towards Anakin, only to lift his gaze upon reaching him.
Anakin inquires, "What's your name?" to which the man replied, "Grey-Worm." The unfamiliar name perplexes Anakin, he assumed these names were strictly for military use, not their true identities.
"Is this the name given to you as a slave?" he asked as the Unsullied nodded in agreement.
Missandei elaborated to him, "All Unsullied boys are given new names when they are cut - Grey-Worm, Red-Flea, Black-Rat. Names that remind them what they are - vermin."
Anakin proceeds to direct his words towards Grey-Worm and the rest of the Unsullied officers, "From this day forward you will choose your own names. You will tell your fellow soldiers to do the same. Throw away your slave name. Choose the name your parents gave you, or any other. A name that gives you pride."
Following a brief period of introspection, Grey-Worm comprehends the details imparted by Anakin and gives his response. "Grey-Worm gives me pride. It is a lucky name. The name this one was born to was accursed. That was the name he had when he was taken for a slave. But Grey-Worm is the name this one drew the day Anakin Targaryen set him free."
Anakin displays his respect for the Unsullied commander's decision and proceeds to update him on his plans for the mission ahead.
Outside Yunkai:
On the eastern coast of Slaver's Bay in central Essos, Yunkai, also known as the Yellow City, is situated 100 leagues north of Astapor, following the ancient Ghiscari coastal road, and approximately 50 leagues, or 163 miles, south of Meereen. To the southwest of Yunkai lies the island of Yaros. South of the city, a birchwood forest can be found near a slanted sandstone ridge, three leagues away.
As Anakin's army marched through the rough and arid terrain, the magnificent city came into view, nestled in the mountains ahead. "Yunkai. The Yellow City," announced Belwas with a childlike zeal.
Anakin, with an almost parent-like voice, declares, "Yes, Belwas, the city is yellow. The Yunkish train bed-slaves, not soldiers. What do you say, big guy, think you can take them?" He expresses full faith in the abilities of his men.
"Belwas likes bed-slaves," he spouted, a statement that elicited a confused look from Anakin. He couldn't fathom how a eunuch could appreciate a bed-slave and was on the verge of questioning it. However, recognizing the company he was in, he opted to remain silent.
"That's not quite what I meant," he instead corrected Belwas.
However, Grey-Worm offers a differing viewpoint. "If they meet us on the field, we beat them with ease. But they won't meet us on the field. They have provisions, patience, and strong walls. If they are wise, they will hide behind those walls and chip away at us, man by man."
"I don't want to siege the city just yet. I just want to see who and what we're dealing with… and if anything happens before then… we can defeat them," Anakin declares. "Send a man to the city gates. Tell the slavers I will receive them here, and negotiate terms. Otherwise, Yunkai's masters will suffer the same fate as Astapors," he ordered Grey-Worm, who acknowledges the order and swiftly departs to deliver the message.
Anakin and his troops then set up camp along the road to Yunkai, positioned some distance outside the city's walls.
After some time, the arrival of the Wise Masters of Yunkai was announced by the sound of drums, and the Unsullied stood guard. Led by his own guards, and on a colorful palanquin carried by slaves, Wise Master Razdal mo Eraz and his entourage made their way through the camp, with Razdal keeping a watchful eye on the unflinching warriors.
The enslaved men continued their laborious journey, their chains clanging and their backs bending under the weight of Razdal's palanquin, while other slaves obediently carried extravagant chests.
When Razdal reached the encampment where Anakin was stationed with his allies Missandei and Grey-Worm, the slaves carefully set down the palanquin and Razdal gracefully stepped out.
Nervously, Razdal and Yezzan zo Qaggaz, an extremely wealthy slave trader and another of the Wise Masters of Yunkai, made their way to Anakin's tent where they saw him seated on a makeshift throne. Yezzan is said to be the richest man in the Yellow City, and has great influence because of this.
Missandei greeted them, introducing Razdal mo Eraz as the 'master of men' and 'speaker to savages.' She proceeds to proudly present Anakin as the 'Breaker of Chains' and 'The Chosen One.'
Anakin offered them a seat and refreshments. Before leaving for Astapor, Hizdahr had been 'enlightening' him in the so-called 'art' of negotiating and if anything he learned that even the slightest gestures could have a powerful impact. So, he signaled to Missandei to serve them drinks. She graciously poured a cup of wine for Razdal, who sipped it while keeping his eyes fixed on the Targaryen.
"Ancient and glorious is Yunkai. Our empire was old before dragons stirred in Old Valyria. Many an army has broken against our walls. You shall find no easy conquest here, Your Grace," Razdal tried to ward off Anakin, but he remained unfazed and got straight to the point.
"Let's make this simple, shall we? Tell me what you want. Surely you must already know what 'I' want, yes?" he said.
As the conversation continued, Anakin remained unimpressed by Razdal's attempts to discourage him from attacking Yunkai. With two sharp claps, the master summons his slaves who dutifully appear with two heavy chests in tow.
"The Wise Masters of Yunkai have sent a gift for the new King of Meereen," Razdal proclaims, gesturing to the attendants who reverently unveil the chests before Anakin. Each one overflows with glittering gold bars, a tribute from the powerful city-state. "There is far more than this awaiting you if you agree to leave us to conduct our affairs in peace."
Anakin is surprised by their proposition, but responds with contempt. "I did not come here for your gold," he says. "My previous actions in Astapor should make it abundantly clear what I want," he states firmly, his stance on slavery being well-known by now.
Razdal counters, his voice dripping with honeyed words, "I pride myself on my knowledge of the savage senseless west. And yet, why should we speak thus harshly to one another? It is true that you committed savageries in Astapor, but we Yunkai'i are a most forgiving people. Your quarrel is not with us, Your Grace. Why squander your strength against our mighty walls when you will need every man to regain your family's throne in far Westeros?"
Anakin squinted, suspicion clouding his gaze, yet he couldn't say he was surprised that most would trace his lineage and concocted theories about his growing army. He had never concealed his heritage, but he understood that once people learned of it, they would link his violent actions to the madness of his ancestors. No one would take seriously the idea that he was motivated solely by a desire to free the slaves.
"Yunkai wishes you only well in that endeavor, and to prove the truth of that, I have brought you a gift. Fifty-thousand golden marks. Yours, as a gesture of friendship from the Wise Masters of Yunkai. Gold given freely is better than plunder bought with blood, surely? So I say to you, Anakin Targaryen, take this chest, and go," Razdal finished his proposition.
With a snarky, yet commanding tone, Anakin retorts, "Well, since you've been so generous, I have a gift for you as well. Your life."
The words hang heavily in the air, causing Razdal to falter. "My… life?" he repeats, his mind struggling to understand Anakin's implication.
"And the lives of your Wise Masters," he adds, his voice laced with coercion. "But I also want something in return. You will release every slave in Yunkai. Every man, woman, and child shall be given as much food, clothing, and property as they can carry as payment for their years of servitude. Reject this gift, and I shall show you no mercy." His ultimatum leaves no room for negotiation.
Now that Anakin has met one of these 'Wise Masters,' he finds himself even less impressed than with the prior two from the other cities. As he evaluates these men, they appear increasingly pitiable, and he has serious doubts about their resolve.
"You are mad. We are not Meereen or Astapor. We are Yunkai and we have powerful friends. Friends who would take great pleasure in destroying you. You shall rue this arrogance, boy. These eunuchs will not keep you safe, I promise you. Those who survive, we shall enslave once more. Perhaps we'll make a slave of you as-" suddenly, Razdal's tirade is abruptly silenced by an invisible force that constricts his airway.
To everyone's shock, the Wise Master is lifted off the ground while Yezzan and the Yunkish slaves who accompanied him fall back in terror.
The suspended Razdal floats towards Anakin and he loosens his grip, allowing him to catch his breath. "You swore…me… safe…conduct," Razdal gasps, bewildered by whatever sorcery is holding him in place.
"Yes. I did," Anakin confirms, before releasing Razdal and allowing him to stumble to the ground.
As he let go of the man, a malevolent voice echoed in his mind, tempting him to eliminate Razdal and end the matter swiftly, yet he held back for the moment. This voice has been pestering him since he took control of Meereen. Although his pride prevents him from heeding it, he cannot deny that these thoughts are his own, and deep down, he wants to act on them.
"Take the gold," Razdal commands the slaves, and they cautiously approach the revealed chests, only to have Anakin use the Force to draw the treasure towards his side. The demonstration of sorcery causes fear to grip the slaves, making them hastily back away.
Anakin takes note that the Wise Master before him conveyed fear, as did the slaves in his company. He is uncertain about his feelings regarding being feared, yet he recognizes the influence it provides him in circumstances like this.
"My gold. You gave it to me, remember? And I shall put it to good use. You'd be wise to do the same with my gift to you. Now get out," Anakin commands.
Razdal and Yezzan let out a string of curses in High Valyrian as they quickly departed with their entourage of slaves in tow.
"The Yunkish are a proud people. They will not bend," says Missandei.
"He said he had powerful friends. Who was he talking about?" asked Anakin.
"I don't know," Grey-Worm replies.
"Find out," Anakin commanded, and he hurried off to gather information.
Meanwhile, Missandei confronts Anakin about his actions, to which he responds by engaging in their own conversation. She voiced her concern, "I thought we weren't attacking Yunkai yet?" She knew that this matter would inevitably lead to conflict.
"I remember saying I wanted to see who we're dealing with. And now that I have…" Anakin paused, reflecting on the true nature of the Wise Masters.
Missandei was intrigued by his perspective after coming face to face with them. "Now that you have, what?" she asked.
"Their actions reek of cowardice; they do not deserve respect. Their meager offer of gold and threats of powerful friends only exposes their lack of faith in their own army. I'm confident that we can face them now, even more than I was before. But, before we take any further action, we will wait for news regarding the identity of these 'powerful friends'," Anakin explains, declaring his intention to use their current forces for an assault.
After a couple of days, Anakin's army was still stationed a few leagues from Yunkai, though they had moved further away from the gate while awaiting news from Grey-Worm about the mercenaries that the Wise Masters were planning to hire.
Hiding in the shadow of a rugged cliff, Anakin, Belwas, Grey-Worm, and Missandei watched in silence as men on horseback rode through the barren landscape surrounding Yunkai. Dressed in plain clothes to endure the scorching desert heat, the group witnessed the scene unfolding before them.
"Men who fight for gold have neither honor nor loyalty. They cannot be trusted. Are these the 'friends' they were talking about," Missandei gestured towards the sellswords approaching Yunkai in the distance.
"They can be trusted to kill you if they're well paid. The Yunkish are paying them well," Anakin remarked.
"You know these men?" inquired Missandei, curious about the identity of their potential adversaries.
Grey-Worm informs them that the company known as the Second Sons is easily recognized by the broken swords adorning their banners. The group is led by a dangerous man from Braavos called 'The Titan's Bastard,' named Mero.
Anakin seeks to gain more knowledge about the enemy and inquires about their numbers. He turns to Grey-Worm for his opinion, according to the Unsullied commander there are 2,000 men, all armored and mounted.
"It's hard to collect wages from a corpse. I'm sure the sellswords prefer to fight for the winning side," Anakin mentions, his thoughts already racing to devise a strategy.
He declares that he wants to speak with The Titan's Bastard about joining forces, though Missandei doubts that Mero would agree to a meeting.
"He will. Any mercenary would want to know who they're killing," Anakin says undeterred.
In the Unsullied Camp:
The following day, Anakin meets with the leaders of the Second Sons in his camp outside Yunkai, with Grey-Worm and Missandei by his side.
Entering the tent Mero interrupts Missandei's introduction to confidently approach Anakin, accompanied by two other captains named Daario and Prendahl. Mero takes a seat on the sofa next to Anakin, demanding wine from Missandei, who he addresses as a slave.
"We have no slaves here," Anakin spat out due to the mercenary's disrespectful behavior.
"You'll all be slaves after the battle unless I save you. Take your clothes off and come and sit on Mero's lap and I may give you my Second Sons," the sellsword's lecherous words were met with a hesitant glance from Missandei towards Anakin; she was unsure of how to respond to this.
Watching Missandei appear so uneasy did little to endear Anakin to the mercenaries, however, he remained composed and turned to Belwas, questioning, "Strong, how many men fight for the Second Sons?"
"Under two-thousand, Your Grace," he replied in his usual loud and boisterous childlike voice.
"We have more, don't we?" Anakin sought confirmation.
"Thousands more," Belwas confirmed.
Anakin flashed a smirk at his friend, reminiscent of a proud parent watching their child count for the first time. While Anakin didn't consider Belwas to be the sharpest tool in the shed, he was undeniably loyal and easy to read, sharing those traits with himself along with a knack for killing.
Mero raises his wine cup in a toast to them, meeting the difficult predicament ahead of him with a false bravado, while Missandei serves Daario and Prendahl their drinks.
Anakin then spoke confidently, "Now, why would Yunkai hire sellswords if they already outnumber us? Last I heard they had 20,000 soldiers. Surely the Second Sons are familiar with the reputation of my men."
While the two captains, Mero and Prendahl, shared contemplative looks, Anakin focused his attention on Daario, the youngest of the captains, who appeared to be meeting his gaze in return.
Daario Naharis, with his chiseled facial features, has high cheekbones and a square jaw that accentuate his rugged appearance. Azure eyes, expressive and intense, draw gazes in, while well-defined eyebrows shape his commanding stare. Medium-brown hair styled in a tousled carefree manner frames his countenance, with a neatly trimmed beard matching his hair for a cohesive appearance. With a sun-kissed complexion, Daario stands at 6 foot 1, exuding both strength and agility. *Michiel Huisman*
"You're very young to be a captain," Anakin remarked.
"He's not a captain. He's a lieutenant" Prendahl corrected.
"You're one to talk. I didn't know they crowned children kings in Meereen. You know, I have heard stories about you… tales from the fighting pits," Daario interjects, acknowledging Anakin's reputation.
Possessing a firsthand understanding of gladiatorial combat, Daario Naharis maintained a keen interest in the happenings within the fighting pits of Meereen. Through these channels, he learned of the remarkable ascent of Anakin Targaryen, a former combatant who had now risen to King of Meereen. Daario finds himself subconsciously drawn to the strength of character it takes to rise from such beginnings, and already sees a kindred spirit in the Targaryen.
"You should believe them. Even with the support of Yunkai's forces, your reputation pales in comparison to that of the Unsullied," Anakin asserted, causing the three captains to exchange uncertain looks.
"The Second Sons have faced worse odds and won," Mero argued.
"The Second Sons have faced worse odds and run," he challenged back, reminding them of their past failures and the reputation they carry.
The mercenary company had been one of many hired to defend the city of Qohor against a massive Dothraki horde, but in the face of overwhelming odds, they abandoned their contract and fled. The following day, the Unsullied (the very army they are now being hired to fight), with a mere 3,000 soldiers, surprisingly emerged victorious against the Dothraki.
Sensing the difficult position they are in, Mero and his fellow captains request more wine from Missandei. They reveal that they have already accepted a contract from Yunkai, but Anakin attempts to persuade them with a better offer. However, Prendahl reminds him that their contract is their bond and breaking it would damage their reputation even further.
Out of the blue, as Anakin is having this conversation with Prendahl, Mero becomes aggressive and inappropriate towards Missandei, provoking Anakin to use the Force to send the mercenary flying out of his seat and across the room.
Anakin stands confidently up from his seat and offers the Second Sons one last chance, promising them riches and power beyond their current contract.
Mero's anger at being thrown is evident, and the other individuals present witness the display of sorcery in awe.
Daario rushes over and positions himself as a barrier between Anakin and Mero before his 'friend' gets them all killed.
Following Prendahl's lead, Mero was signaled to step back. "Like I said, our contract is our bond," Prendahl reiterated, conveying the decision of their group and urging them to leave.
"Good. The Titan's Bastard does not drink alone. In the Second Sons, we share everything. After the battle, maybe we'll all share her. I'll come looking for you when this is over," Mero's gaze lingered on Missandei before he left the tent.
As Darrio walked away, his gaze connected with Anakin's, and he sensed that Daario had something to communicate - something that he couldn't express in the presence of his companions. Surely, if Daario was aware of his standing in the fighting pits, he would recognize that Anakin was not someone to be underestimated. He pondered what the sellsword might have wanted to say while observing him depart.
"So… That went well," he jokes, acknowledging his poor negotiation skills.
In the Second Sons Camp:
In the mercenary camp as it bustles with the work of the day, Mero fondles a bare-chested Yunkish pleasure-slave who sits on his lap as he talks strategy with Prendahl and Daario.
"Little white-haired brat. He talks too much," Mero spat.
"He could've killed us," remarked Daario.
"Parlor tricks won't keep me from cutting his throat," Mero said, the anger from their earlier encounter still simmering.
"Over ten-thousand Unsullied stand between you and that throat," Daario points out.
"I'll find a way. Don't I always?" Mero replied, addressing the whore perched on his lap.
"She'll tell me whatever you pay her to tell me," Daario comments, unimpressed with his allies' bravado.
"Daario Naharis, the whore who doesn't like whores," teased Mero.
"I like them very much. I just refuse to pay them. And I'm no whore, my friend," he shot back.
"She sells her sheath and you sell your blade. What's the difference?" Mero challenged.
"I fight for strength," Daario answered.
"For strength?" Prendahl echoed in disbelief.
"We fight for gold," asserts Mero.
"The gods gave men two gifts to entertain ourselves before we die: the thrill of fucking a woman who wants to be fucked and the thrill of killing a man who wants to kill you. And to achieve both a man needs strength," Daario explained, offering a glimpse into his philosophy.
"You'll die young," Mero quips.
"What do we do about the boy-king? We can't beat the Unsullied on the battlefield," Prendahl expressed his concern, recognizing Second Sons' inability to defeat Anakin's army.
"There won't be a battle," Mero insisted, suggesting instead a plan for assassination. "And we don't have to deal with his eunuchs. We only have to deal with him."
"He's well guarded. He has other men who don't look like Unsullied surrounding him. You saw that giant oaf," Prendahl replied.
While they conversed, other thoughts flickered through Daario's mind. It is rumored that Anakin Targaryen killed more than a hundred men in the fighting pits of Meereen, and he doubts that Belwas or the Unsullied would be the biggest obstacle to overcome if they want to assassinate him.
"Tonight's a new moon. One of us slips into his camp past the Unsullied and his guards," the Titan's Bastard proposed.
"Which one of us?" Prendahl asked.
"Close your eyes, love," Mero instructed the whore on his lap, rising as he grabbed a pouch of coins.
He spilled three coins into his palm - one from Volantis, one from Meereen, and one from Braavos. Handing them to the whore, spinning her around before planting a kiss and a playful slap on her ass, he instructs her to distribute them randomly to the three mercenaries; the one who receives the Braavosi coin will be the one to eliminate the King of Meereen.
She blindly feels her way toward Prendahl, who took a coin. Then she stumbled back to Mero for his coin, and finally made her way to Daario. Falling into his lap with a laugh, she handed him his coin.
As fate would have it, Daario drew the Braavosi coin, marking him as the one for the assassination. To this he simply replied, "Valar morghulis - all men must die."
In Anakin's Tent:
The night had settled deeply over the camp, and Anakin found himself in the quiet sanctuary of his tent's study, the soft glow of lanterns casting flickering shadows on the canvas walls. Missandei sat across from him, guiding him through the intricacies of the Asshai'i language, a tome of foreign symbols open before them.
"A-a… azlha?" Anakin stammered, trying to wrap his tongue around the unfamiliar sounds. He squinted at the page, struggling with the foreign script.
"Yes, very good, Your Grace," Missandei encouraged, her voice gentle yet precise. "And what comes after azlha?"
"K-kwilo?" he ventured, his brow furrowed in concentration.
"Correct again," she replied, smiling softly. "The Asshai'i use a base-8 number system. Most people struggle with it, but you seem to be taking to it quite well." There was admiration in her voice. He had only been studying for one evening, yet he was absorbing the language with a surprising ease.
"Funny," Anakin quipped, his lips twitching into a half-smile. "I always thought I was a slow learner."
Missandei watched him as he spoke, her eyes drifting to his lips, tracing the movement of each syllable. For a fleeting moment, her thoughts wandered, lingering on something other than language. His voice - steady yet filled with an eagerness to learn - held her attention more than the words themselves. She blinked, realizing she had been lost in her thoughts for too long.
Anakin's question snapped her back to the present. "You alright?" he asked, a flicker of concern in his eyes.
Slightly embarrassed by her lapse, Missandei quickly closed the book. "I think that's enough for today," she announced, a little too quickly.
Anakin, a hint of disappointment in his eyes, sighed. "Already?" But his childishness returned in an instant. With a subtle flick of his wrist, the book Missandei had closed suddenly floated out of her hands, hovering in the air between them. A mischievous grin spread across Anakin's face as he teased, "What's the matter? Jealous? You know, once I learn Asshai I'd only be…7 languages away from you."
Missandei, trying to maintain her composure, raised an eyebrow but couldn't suppress a smile. She liked his competitive nature. "Yes," she admitted, acknowledging his prowess with the Force. "You seem to have quite the aptitude for languages." She hesitated for a moment before adding, "Why are you so eager to learn Asshai'i? I've never met anyone so interested in it, let alone someone who already knows as many languages as you do."
Anakin's expression softened, a glint of youthful enthusiasm lighting up his face. His eyes brightened as he spoke, a warmth that Missandei hadn't seen in him yet. "The Asshai'i are said to be masters of witchcraft and sorcery, possessing a unique language used for spells. Who knows. Maybe there's… more. Out there, I mean," His tone was filled with wonder, like that of a young boy fascinated by the unknown.
As he spoke, Missandei's heart softened. She had been misled by his demeanor in Astapor - the brooding, serious expression that made him seem older, more dangerous. But here, in this quiet moment, she saw him for what he truly was. A boy - though dangerous, yes - but still young, full of curiosity and wonder. It struck her how people in Meereen could've crowned this boy king, how much weight he carried on his shoulders, and how easily it could be forgotten beneath his cold exterior. He likely lost a childhood, similar to that of many of the slaves he is fighting to liberate.
Anakin, noticing her silence, asked, "Where did you learn it? The Asshai'i language, I mean."
Missandei's gaze drifted slightly, her thoughts pulling her back to her childhood. "A Red Priestess visited Naath when I was young," she said quietly, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "She taught us about the Faith of R'hllor, though my memories of it are vague now. I do remember her voice, though - singing in that strange tongue. It was shrill and… ululating." She paused. "It stayed with me."
The air between them thickened with the weight of unspoken thoughts. Slowly, they became aware of how close they had positioned themselves to one another. For a brief moment, Anakin found himself captivated by her gaze, eyes like molten gold drawing him in. He sensed something unspoken in the air, an unvoiced desire lingering between them. She, too, seemed to feel it, her breath catching slightly as if she were waiting for him to make the first move.
But before he could act on the impulse, she extended her hand, breaking the tension. "The book," she said softly, though her voice was steady.
Anakin blinked, as if waking from a trance, and handed her the book. As she took it from him, he realized it was probably the same one she had mentioned before - the one with the Red Priestess's teachings. It was probably one of her few possessions.
Missandei carefully moved to place the book aside, her fingers lingering on the worn leather cover. Anakin turned, his gaze shifting to the tent's window, where the pale moonlight filtered through. The moon, full and bright, stirred memories long buried in his mind. Memories of his past flooded him - his days as a slave, the harshness of his youth, and now, his reign as king.
Viserys and Daenerys. What had become of them? Were they even aware of what he had accomplished in Meereen? Would they come searching for him? Or had they been lost to the world? Ser Willem Darry's words echoed in his thoughts, the warnings he had given about the dangers that awaited them. Those who would wish to see them dead.
In his darkest moments, Anakin often wondered why he wasn't with them. A deep sense of guilt gnawed at him, a metaphorical dragon breathing down his neck, reminding him of the family he had abandoned. His heart ached with the weight of it all, the uncertainty of their fates. But he forced these thoughts away. Here, in Slaver's Bay, he had found purpose. A mission he long sought.
Suddenly, in an instant, Missandei lets out a shocked gasp as the books slip from her grasp and tumble from the shelf. Anakin's gaze shifts and he sees her being held hostage, mouth forced shut and a sharp blade dangerously close to her throat.
Daario, disguised as an Unsullied, stands menacingly behind her. As he slowly approaches Anakin, Daario firmly warns them not to scream or else Missandei would meet her demise.
Anakin didn't like to see Missandei being led closer with a knife dangerously near her neck, but he was more so surprised that he couldn't sense the impending danger, as he usually could with the Force.
In a surprising act, with a swift motion, Daario removed the knife and took off the Unsullied helmet, revealing a cheeky grin.
Missandei quickly rushed to Anakin's side while the sellsword nonchalantly explained that he had been sent here to kill him.
"Then why haven't you?" Anakin questioned, leaning into his curiosity.
Daario simply shrugs and admits he didn't really want to. When Anakin asked about his captains' opinions, Daario suggested he ask them himself as he emptied out his satchel, revealing the severed heads of Mero and Prendahl.
This action made Anakin feel a sense of déjà vu, reminding him of when he decapitated Oznak zo Pahl and used the severed head as a message. His curiosity was piqued and he couldn't help but ask why Daario would betray his comrades. The sellsword admitted that they had 'philosophical' differences, particularly about Anakin.
"You're a strange man," said Anakin.
"I'm the simplest man you'll ever meet. I only do what I want to do," Daario confesses.
"And this is supposed to convince me?" he interrogates, trying to discern if the mercenary intends to join forces with him.
Daario boldly claimed, "Yes," but Anakin, playing devil's advocate, questioned why he should trust a man who would kill his own comrades.
If he were truthful, he was impressed and grateful that Daario had spared him the hassle of eliminating them personally. He had been toying with the notion of taking out the captains of the Second Sons himself, but it appeared the situation had resolved itself. Nevertheless, he wasn't about to make things so straightforward for the mercenary.
"They ordered me to murder 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," he recounts the events that led to his betrayal.
As Anakin approaches him, Daario takes a step back, wary of the Targaryen's scrutinizing gaze. Missandei, standing behind him, keeps a safe distance.
"You'd fight for me?" he asks, and Daario responds by nodding and assuming a position of readiness. "Why?"
To Anakin's surprise, Daario reveals something that seems profoundly personal to him. "My mother was a whore. She liked to drink pear brandy. The older she got, the less she made selling her body, the more she wanted to drink. So one day when I was 12, she sold me to a slaver she fucked the night before."
"You were a slave?" Anakin asked, discovering an unexpected shared experience with the sellsword.
"I was a bad child. I wasn't big, but I was quick. And I loved to fight. So they sold me to a man in Tolos who trained fighters for the pits. I had my first match when I was 16. I'm only here because of those pits. I learned to fight like a Dothraki screamer, a Norvoshi priest, a Westerosi knight. Soon I was famous. 10,000 men and women screamed my name when I stepped into the pit. I made so much money for my master he set me free when he died. I joined the Second Sons… and now here I am," he stated, convinced that fate had brought him here.
Without hesitation, Daario proceeds to draw his sword and kneels before Anakin, placing his weapon on his folded leg. "The Second Sons are yours and so is Daario Naharis," he humbly declares, bowing his head.
Outside Yunkai:
The following afternoon, in the desolate terrain outside Yunkai's walls, Anakin's army of Unsullied stood guard over the camp.
Meanwhile, inside his tent, Anakin consults with his advisors - Missandei, Grey-Worm, and the newest addition, Daario Naharis - as they strategize for the upcoming battle.
As they pore over a map of the city, Daario points out a hidden passage. "There. It's a back gate. My men use it when they visit Yunkai's bed-slaves. This is where we enter the city. Very few guards, they know me. They let me inside."
"We're not gonna sneak an army through a back gate," says Anakin, wondering what else the mercenary had planned.
"I kill the guards. I take your two best men and lead them through the back streets, which I know well, and open the front gates. Then comes the army. Once the walls are breached, the city will fall in hours," Daario reveals, outlining his plan for their combined forces to conquer the city and launch a united assault.
"Or perhaps you'll lead our men to the slaughter, cutting the head off our army. The masters of Yunkai will pay you your fee and you won't have to split it three ways cause you've already slaughtered your partners," Missandei remains cautious of Daario's loyalty. Likely still holding a grudge about him holding a knife to her neck.
"You have a very suspicious mind. In my experience, only dishonest people think this way," Daario's words slice through the tense air, causing Missandei to release a heavy sigh and turn to Anakin for his opinion.
"You command the Unsullied. What do you think?" Anakin asked Grey-Worm.
The Unsullied commander is focused, studying the strategic map before them. "I trust him," he flatly responds.
Pleased with the plan Anakin concludes, "Me and you. We leave tonight."
"Very good. I will prepare," Grey-Worm confirmed,
As the group begins to disperse from the tent, Daario's face breaks into a broad smile as he looks at Anakin. He turns to the mercenary and inquires, "What do you want?"
"Just excited to see you in action is all," Daario expresses his eagerness to see his skills with his own eyes before leaving to make final preparations for the upcoming Battle in Yunkai.
In Yunkai:
Under the cover of darkness, Anakin, Daario, and Grey-Worm stealthily approach the back gate of Yunkai's walls, determined to infiltrate the city.
"When you hear a songbird's whistle, you come. I'm a great whistler, the greatest in the land," Daario boasts with confidence.
As he approaches the gate, a guard shouts at him in Valyrian. "Daario Naharis," he announces his identity to the guard.
Anakin and Grey-Worm, taking cover behind a rock at a distance, watch as the guard permits Daario's entry. After a while, he gives the signal, and they silently slip through the back gate.
As they move forward with caution, they come across the dead bodies of two guards. Daario nonchalantly cleans the blood off his arakh and remarks on how quickly he took down the guards.
"There are others," Anakin informs Daario, sensing a larger number of people further ahead.
"I doubt it. The Yunkish prefer to let their slaves do their fighting for them," the mercenary said.
Suddenly, as expected, they are swarmed by Yunkai soldiers and a fight breaks out. Daario throws a dagger to take down a sneaky guard who had crept up on Grey-Worm. The three of them defeat the first wave of guards, but are then faced with another group attacking from all sides.
"You were saying?!" Anakin's tone turns sharp as he questions the sellswords earlier statement about there being no more guards.
With seconds to spare, Anakin raised his hand in a swift, commanding gesture. "Get down!" he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. Grey-Worm and Daario instinctively dropped to the ground.
Anakin summoned the Force and unleashed a devastating push. The air vibrated with energy as the guards surrounding them were hurled backwards, crashing into each other and their own weapons. The cacophony of clashing armor and anguished cries filled the alleyway.
On the floor, Darrio let out a laugh, enjoying the display of power as dust whirled around them like a sandstorm. For his part, Grey-Worm remained characteristically stoic, fully aware of Anakin's deadly sorcery, yet still amazed to witness it in action.
A clear path opened before them. Anakin's eyes narrowed, his sword stained with blood. He advanced with lethal precision, dispatching the three men blocking their way with fluid, powerful strikes. Each swing hacking off limbs in a blend of grace and fury, and in mere moments, their path out of the back streets lay unobstructed.
Grey-Worm and Daario were swift to rise and engage the remaining guards. Their combat prowess was undeniable; Grey-Worm's spear thrusts were relentless, and Daario's twin arakhs danced through the air. They made quick work of their foes, then sprinted to rejoin Anakin, who was already approaching the city's gate.
As they neared the gate, the few guards stationed atop the wall attempted a futile defense. With a Force-push he sends them toppling off the wall and shifts his attention to the gate below him. His focus was unyielding and with the Force, raises the portcullis effortlessly, the massive iron grate groaning as it ascended.
The path was open.
The breach of the gate unleashed a flood of warriors. The Unsullied, with their unbreakable discipline, and the mercenary Second Sons poured into the city. The initial wave of chaos was palpable as they clashed with the Yunkish soldiers, who were unprepared for the ferocity of the assault.
Anakin stood atop the wall, his gaze sweeping over the ensuing turmoil as his men swarmed in through the gates. They flooded the streets, their disciplined advance overwhelming the defenders.
Yunkish soldiers fell in droves, their formations breaking under the relentless assault. Soon, most surrendered in fear, while others fled, casting aside their weapons in desperation.
Watching the scene unfold, Anakin felt a strange sense of detachment. His presence in the battle was unnecessary; his forces were more than capable of seizing the city without him. He took a deep breath, the cool night air filling his lungs, and observed the ease in which the Unsullied systematically dismantled Yunkai's defenses.
He had long since heard that Yunkai was renowned for its bed-slaves rather than its imposing army, and the Unsullied's prowess alone demonstrated more than enough strength. The Second Sons' betrayal only solidified the Yellow City's downfall.
From his vantage point, he saw the once-mighty city crumble. The chaos below was a testament to the might of the armies he commanded. As the city fell into disarray, Anakin knew that this victory, like many before it, was assured.
In the Unsullied Camp:
Recognizing he is not needed on the battlefield, Anakin navigates through the fray to the camp outskirts, bearing news of their success to Missandei, and when they will depart the city.
Despite his reluctance to leave Yunkai in disarray, Anakin acknowledged his obligation to Meereen before this city. "I can not stay here," he asserted within the tent. "I'm King of Meereen. Not Yunkai."
"If you do nothing. You will never truly free the people," Missandei countered. Aside from Camarron, Anakin's hatred of slavery was only ever matched by this Naathi woman. "Tell me, do you know what's happening in Astapor right now?" Anakin stood in silence as she continued. "No doubt conflict has broken out. Slavers bidding for the power of the former Good Masters. Using slaves to fight their battles and kill each other, all to see them back in chains again," her words resonated with him.
Deep in contemplation, Anakin's silence cast a heavy veil over his new friend, as he turned his back to her. The weight of his actions settled upon him. His actions extended beyond Slaver's Bay, striking at the heart of slavery itself. With every fiber of his being, he sensed the backlash that would inevitably follow - those who had profited from this vile institution outside Slaver's Bay would stop at nothing to reinstate it. It was too profitable not to after all.
The gravity of this realization gnawed at his soul, amplified by the nagging whispers of the dragon that haunted his mind. This insidious voice sowed seeds of doubt and mockery, reducing him to a child who lacked the maturity to lead. He wondered if this was the fate of his ancestors, driven to madness by an incessant inner voice.
It angered him to hear Missandei, someone he held in high regard, criticize him like that, but he knew that she was right. He would not project his internal frustrations onto someone he has started to view as a friend.
After an awkward silence, and Anakin still having his back turned to his Missandei, she was about to ask if everything was okay, when suddenly, just then, Daario and Grey-Worm, their bodies weary and blood-stained from the battlefield, joined them in the dimly lit tent.
"It was just as he said. They did not believe it until it was too late. Their slave-soldiers threw down their spears and surrendered," Grey-Worm reports.
Darrio proceeds to stride closer to Anakin from behind Grey-Worm, with a Yunkai flag hanging from his shoulder and his face splattered with blood. He approaches Anakin and kneels before him, placing the flag over his knee.
"The city is yours, My King," Daario proclaims as he raises his head, presenting Anakin with a banner from the defeated temple and laying it at his feet.
Outside Yunkai:
The next morning, Anakin, Missandei, Grey-Worm, and Daario Naharis gather on the rough terrain outside the walls of the city. They are surrounded by his formidable armies of skilled warriors.
"They will come, Your Grace. When they're ready," Missandei informs Anakin.
"Perhaps they didn't want to be conquered," Anakin muses, understanding that things can be worse after a siege before they can get better.
"You didn't conquer them. You liberated them," she asserts, revealing her strong disdain for slavery, a sentiment she and Anakin clearly share.
"People learn to love their chains," acknowledged Anakin, reflecting on his own observations.
As the gates of the city swung open, a diverse mass of individuals flooded out. Among them were commoners and slaves, the latter easily identified by the collars around their necks.
The Unsullied, stoic and unflinching, assumed a defensive stance as they approached Anakin. Their spears poised towards the crowd, ready to strike if necessary.
Yet, Anakin confidently strode ahead, paying no mind to his retinue of guards. Missandei trailed behind him, speaking in Valyrian as she announced, "This is Anakin Targaryen, Breaker of Chains, and The Chosen One. It is he you owe your freedom to."
Anakin's voice cut through the commotion, driven by a strong conviction. "You do not owe me your freedom," he declared, silencing the crowd. "I cannot give it to you. Your freedom is not mine to give. It belongs to you and you alone. If you want it back, you must take it for yourselves. Each and every one of you," he spoke directly to the vast crowd before him, his words ringing out with purpose.
A hush fell over the crowd until a man raised his daughter in the air, shouting, "Dārys!" The little girl echoed the call, and soon the entire crowd joined in, their voices growing louder with each repetition.
The Unsullied, positioned behind Anakin, stood firm and imposing in an attempt to deter the crowd. But the people's determination was unwavering.
Anakin changed direction, his gaze shifting to Missandei. Silently, he gestured for the Unsullied to stand down as he approached the gathering. A memory surfaced in his mind - the slaves of Meereen had called him 'Dārys!' the first time he liberated them.
"It's all right," Anakin commanded his soldiers, his voice calm and authoritative. "These people won't hurt me." And with that, he boldly strode towards the uproarious crowd, still fervently chanting.
As he steps into the midst of the bustling crowd, gentle hands reach out to greet him, touching him as though he were a figure of myth. The people's excitement fills the air, their chants praising him as he makes his way through the throng of bodies.
Despite the bleak and despairing world around him, the embrace of former slaves offers a glimmer of hope to Anakin. Surrounded by the eager crowd, he gazes out at the sea of faces and feels a sense of vindication. As if this somehow validated his decision to disregard any other thoughts he might have had about abandoning this cause.
As the people begin to sway and form a circle around him, he can't help but smile back in response to their adoration. In the background, the disciplined Unsullied stand tall and unaffected by the frenzied atmosphere.
Anakin never thought himself one for being worshiped, but in this moment, he can't help but feel pride in the genuine happiness his actions have brought to the people of Yunkai.