Standing straight and slowly backing out of the tent, Hermione kept her gaze towards the gryphon. Spinning on her heel once the flaps closed, she turned to eye Melisandre's progress with the slaves trapped in the caravan.
With a wave of her wand the bodies of the petrified men smashed together, an incarcerous binding them in rope.
Walking quickly over to the red priestess, she watched as the woman helped gather the slaves into a group, stopping when she turned to look at her.
"What were you saying to them? Are they coming with us to Pentos?" She asked.
"Yes, I believe it would prove fruitful if they were allowed to travel with us. They may be able to prove useful once we arrive in the city. They only ask for one thing, for you to destroy this encampment. They fear retribution from the traders."
"I-I don't think I can do that, Melisandre."
"Hermione, you are now the closest thing to royalty that Essos has seen, capable of feats even the dragonlords could only dream of possessing. You are going to be the wind that breathes change, my Azor Ahai. Why not be the light that these slaves see stuck here in the shadows as they are. Breathe fire into them."
"Prepare yourself, it's about to get stifling."
Walking away from the outer reaches of the encampment, she strode towards the group of knocked out traders. Grabbing her wand, she rose it above her head. Waving her arm in slow circles, she sped up the tempo as crimson and gold sparks rose above her head. Grunting as she put in more effort, nearly panting as sparks of flame grew to surround her in a ring of fire. Growing larger and larger as it devoured the surrounding tents, rendering them into nothing but ash.
Slowly, she dispelled the flames. Gasping for breath as a harsh screech filled the air. The screeches of the freedmen followed shortly after. Moving back to where she left the group, Melisandre smiling at her return as the Gryphon banked back towards the ground and trotted towards them.
"Will you follow me?" She asked them. Watching in stunned silence as they all bent low on one knee. I'm sure with the beast standing beside her as it did, the trio must have cut an imposing figure, but really to bow so low?
"Melisandre, tell them to hold out their hands like this," she said, holding her hands together as if she was holding something. After watching the older woman talk to the slaves and seeing as they all held their hands out, she made her way to each one. Summoning a little bit of water into each of their hands to quench them of their thirst for the impending journey ahead.
"Do any of you speak Old Valyrian?" she asked the small group.
One of the older men stepped forward then, dark skinned and little hair beyond the scruff at the edge of his chin. Like the others, he too, was dressed in linen rags and a thick collar around his neck.
"I do little, Lady" The man said.
"What is your name?" She asked him. Watching as he smiled awkwardly and shrugged his shoulders.
"Name?" she repeated. Motioning to herself she said, "Hermione, my name- Hermione."
"Your name?" She repeated, placing her hand over his heart.
"Thornos," the man replied. "I name Thornos, Lady."
"We leave for Pentos, will you tell the slaves?" Hermione motioned towards the onlooking group and with a soft shove towards her shoulders, she cast a quick point me charm. Walking towards the North she gave Melisandre the black bag.
"This contains our food, I'll want you to ration them out to me while I cast some duplication charms on them. They won't spoil or rot and so we'll have plenty to go around. Not one mouth will go hungry while they're in my care."
Seeing how eager they were to accept the food rations was difficult to bear. She knew a bit about how it felt like to be overlooked and undervalued. They ate like wild men.
Shaking her head, she pressed forward. Now wasn't the time to get emotional, she had a quest to complete.
The journey itself wasn't that difficult when she thought back on it. Laying down, slick with her own sweat and panting for breath. It was the heat that made it unbearable. Being on the run for most of the year in the dead of winter, and before that with the hottest temperatures in London reaching high into the seventies. It took all she could to unpack her tent and usher everyone in lest they fall prey to scavengers or slavers.
She could handle cold, yeah, the cold she could handle. It was this sweltering heat in the middle of an arid summer being the hottest this world has seen if Melisandre's account could be believed. She should have noticed that something was off when transfiguring some of the soft stone into canteens left her exhausted. Casting gemino to ensure that every freed slave had water left her barely hanging on her feet.
"My lady, it is needless for you to suffer so. The men and women gladly will lay down their lives to ensure your peace and wellbeing."
Her nose was stuffy and her head pounded like a drum and really, all she wanted was just a nice cup of tea. Maybe iced like how the Americans do it, taboo as that is. It's no wonder that she eventually would get sick. Having to fend off Melisandres' more eccentric quirks lest someone ends up as an unneeded sacrifice. That was an unexpected downside to this whole situation, honestly.
"Melisandre, just because you think you can commit a live sacrificial ritual, really doesn't mean that you should. In fact, if you actually did commit such an act under my name and authority here, I might genuinely have to end you. I'm sick. Not dying. I'll get over it soon."
"Surely their flames would light your path back to health, would it not? Is there not some way that you can mend yourself to straights with magic?"
"That is not at all how that works, maybe with potions, but I don't want to use what I have on me. I've a limited supply until I can learn and understand what type of fauna you have to reestablish my own supplies. I'd rather use what I have on the slaves."
The older woman nodded and grabbed a rag from a cool basin, dabbing it on the young witch's brow as she bent over coughing. She observed as the younger woman groaned, hands held over her eyes as she crashed back onto the pillows.
"Surely, you'll think about it, my lady? We are but a week out from Pentos, any further delays and who knows who could happen upon us here. The slaves are weak, even with you able to supplement their needs. Eventually we'll run out."
"We're not completely on our own out here. I don't want to even think about you invoking a bonfire of bad decisions. Besides, we've still got the gryphon, don't we?"
"I do so hate to tell you this while you're in such a state, but no. Shortly after you ushered the slaves into this hovel of a home, the beast made it's way due northeast."
"Well, that's good, I was never that good at dealing with creatures. That was more Ron and Harry's area of expertise than my own."
"Well, rest now. My lady, I shall wake you on the morrow."
How does one actually end a chapter? Really, I'm not too sure if I'm the best judge of that.
My birthday was on the 6th, and I've been busy doing presentations for Career Day at a good number of schools on behalf of my job. So, I want to thank you for your patience as I'll likely be somewhat slower with posting.
It's been an absolute pleasure reading your reviews on my last chapter!
Thank you to some of the guests, Ariadne and Moar Sleep (Who's stories I've actually read before posting my own)
I'm quite fond of Hermione with any of the Wolf Pack members.
One guest mentioned people sleeping on my work, but it's still fairly new overall. I'm not too upset about it!
I've been taking the time to do deep dives into ancient civilizations, revolutions, and reddit threads.
The amount of tabs that I have open to do research while I write so that I can be as accurate on the accounts of Hermione Granger and the magic system in Harry Potter as well as the culture and lore in Game of Thrones and especially in Pentos is astounding.
I hope you enjoy and look forward to the next chapter next week!