AN-1: Hello and Welcome History Buffs, I mean readers and here we are with a new chapter. I changed my mind about jumping to the timeskip as I said in the .5 chapter but I decided to show Caster gaining 8,000 loyal soldiers. I don't have much to says but if you read my other stories, my Mom passed away unexpectedly last month and writing help with things. Good and Bad reviews help keep my mind occupied. Anyway here we go with Caster continuing to grow his army.
"Speaking"
[..Pause ...Long Pause]
Disclaimer: I Own Nothing
Chapter 7
The integration of the sisters of battle with caster's existing forces was not without its challenges as the weeks pass but slowly a sense of camaraderie begins to develop. Ashara couldn't help but notice the dynamics within caster's core group the lion's fury comprised of the sand snakes, the noble arthur who is second in command of the lion's fury, all treating caster with a respect. The boisterous bors and taciturn dagonet were never far from his side, their loyalty evident in every action. Mya his half-sister share a bond with him despite their births. Gawain the skilled archer with a sharp tongue, his eyes ever vigilant for potential threats to caster. Perhaps most surprising to ashara is the presence of jon the bastard of ned stark. Sylvie is ever close to caster with the mountain of a man ulthor, a grizzled veteran of the north. Lastly were the wildlings tormund and ygritte with tormund boasting about how caster had earned his respect in single combat north of the wall, a tale that seeming to grow more outrageous with each retelling. Even daario the flamboyant sellsword captain and his second sons lieutenants defer to caster as their true commander. The days passed and they journeyed further south from qohor, facing a few arrogant dothraki khalasars along the way. Ashara finds herself drawn into conversations with various members of caster's inner circle.
"Your people trust you deeply Caster.. It's rare to see such loyalty.. Especially among such a diverse group.. You even have Dothraki though most are loyal to the Targaryen Princess" ashara says one evening inside caster's tent, her violet eyes on the dancing flames of his candlelight.
"Trust is earned and not given" caster says and takes a sip of wine, "We've been through much together.. Each has saved my life at least once and I've done the same for them.. In the face of death.. Titles and backgrounds matter little" he adds, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"And now you're seeking to earn our trust as well" ashara says, a newfound respect blooming in her chest.
"Your trust and your strength.. The Sister of Battle will be welcomed addition" caster says while nodding in agreement. The conversation drifts to lighter topics as ashara finds herself reevaluating her initial impressions of caster baratheon once again. Their journeys continues as the days blend into weeks as they traverse the landscape for Qarth. A month into their travels is when tragedy struck as daenerys suddenly collapsed in pain. The massive group halts and sets up a small camp as ashara, tyene, sylvie and the other women tended to her but despite their best efforts. Daenerys suffers a miscarriage and loses the child she had been carrying for drogo. The air is heavy with sorrow as the news spread through the camp. The dothraki loyal to their khaleesi mourn the loss deeply as they gather wood and built a pyre, preparing to honor the unborn child according to their customs. Daenerys stands before the pyre as the night falls, her face a mask of grief and determination. In her arms were her three dragon eggs, their scaled surfaces gleaming in the firelight. With a gentle reverence, places the eggs alongside her stillborn son on the pyre.
"Father" caster thought, watching from nearby with his blue eyes reflecting the flickering flames. He could sense the weight of this moment and the significance it held for daenerys. Belserion is perched on his shoulder and tyene wrapped in his arms, her body warm against his in the cool night air. She leans back into him with her eyes also fixed on the unfolding scene and her fingers absently tracing patterns on his arm.
"It's really happening" tyene whispers, her voice barely audible above the crackling of the flames. Caster nods while tightening his embrace slightly, "Yes it is" he murmurs, his gaze never leaving the pyre. The flames seem to dance and twist in unnatural ways, and a strange humming fills the air but suddenly from within the inferno the cry of a dragon or dragons echo. Three small forms emerge from the flames as their scales glisten with fire that seems to dance across their bodies without causing harm. Daenerys reaches with wonder in her eyes as the three baby dragons cling to her arms, their tiny claws gripping her skin gently. Belserion senses the arrival of her kin and lets out a melodious trill that echoes across the area.
"It seems our little lady is no longer alone" caster said, nodding towards belserion with a smile on his lips and watches the scene unfold with his blue eyes reflecting the firelight.
"But she is still the oldest.. Our Belserion will have quite the responsibility as big sister" tyene muses, her voice tinged with pride. The baby dragons chirp in response to belserion's call, their voices high and sweet. One with scales of deep green tries stretching its wings experimentally while the second black as night, nuzzles against daenerys' neck and the third is cream and gold, peering around curiously at its new world. Daenerys cradles the dragons close as her eyes shine with tears of joy and wonder, "They're beautiful.. And they're alive" she whispers, her voice filled with emotion.
"Three dragons.. The sigil of House Targaryen come to life once more" caster said, his voice low and his expression thoughtful. Belserion lets out another trill but this one longer and more complex as the baby dragons responded, their voices joining in a cacophony of chirps and squeaks. It is a sound that hadn't been heard in the world for centuries, that of the song of dragons reborn from the ashes of the past.
-XxX-
They group continues their travels for qarth as caster finds himself spending more time with ashara, learning about her unique perspective on the free cities as he plans their next moves. It is during one of these strategy sessions, about a month after Drogon, Rheagal and Viserion were born. Ashara comes to him with an interesting idea, "Caster.. Have you considered acquiring an army of Unsullied" she said, her voice thoughtful as she studies the map spread before them.
"Unsullied.. I've heard of them of course but…" caster says, surprise evident on his face.
"They're said to be the finest soldiers in the world.. Disciplined.. Fearless and utterly loyal" ashara says, her finger tracing a path to Astapor on the map.
"They're also expensive and their training methods are... Brutal to say the least" daario chimes in, after drinking some wine.
"You're suggesting we go to Astapor" caster says, frowning but considering the implications.
"I am.. With an army of Unsullied added to the Second Sons.. Sisters of Battle and Lion's Fury.. It could be the key to securing your position.. Both here in Essos and eventually in Westeros" ashara explains, meeting his gaze steadily. Caster leans back as the idea of purchasing slaves didn't fully sit well with him but he couldn't deny the strategic advantage such an army would provide. He continuing mulling over the proposition as tyene approaches, her steps silent as a cat's. She settles beside him with belserion curled contentedly in her lap, "Maybe you'll need to use your silver tongue my lion" tyene said softly, her fingers idly stroking the dragon's scales and belserion chirps with a puff of smoke escaping her nostrils.
"For the Unsullied" caster says, glancing to her.
"The Good Masters of Astapor are shrewd but I believe they've never faced someone like you.. With your words and Belserion by your side.. You could sway mountains" tyene says, her eyes gleaming with a mix of admiration and cunning. The young dragon stretches her wings and is now strong enough to carry her own weight as caster watches her take to the air, circling above their heads before landing on his shoulder.
"She's right.. The sight of a living dragon.. Combined with your reputation as the Storm Lion... It could change everything in our negotiations" ashara adds, her violet eyes following the dragon's flight. Caster strokes belserion's head and feeling the warmth radiating from her white scales. The group continues and soon concludes their discussion on strategies as the lion's fury and sand snakes would accompany him to astapor while daario and ashara would remain with the rest of the army but also keep an eye on daenerys. The next morning just after sunrise the group set on their horses from their camp, "It's been a while since it was just us eh?!" tormund declares, a broad grin on his face.
"Indeed it has" caster says, smiling at tormund's enthusiasm. Their spirits were high despite the uncertainty that lay ahead as tyene stays close to him with belserion flying short distances, alternated between perching on caster's shoulder and soaring above the group, her presence a constant reminder of the power they wield. They make camp that evening as caster sits with jon and mya, their faces illuminated by the flickering firelight.
"Caster I've been thinking… Can you truly afford to purchase these Unsullied.. The cost must be astronomical" mya begins, her voice low.
"It depends on the price of course.. But I may have an idea.. How much do you think a Good Master would pay for a living dragon" caster says with a glint in his steel blue eyes. Jon's eyes widen in shock, "You're not thinking of selling Belserion for this army are you?!" he asks, his voice a mix of disbelief and concern.
"No of course not.. But I can sell the illusion of it" caster says while shaking his head, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. Mya and jon exchange puzzled glances before turning back to caster with their curiosity piqued, "What do you mean by that" mya asks, leaning in closer.
"Think about it.. The Good Masters of Astapor have never seen a living dragon.. They don't know what Belserion is capable of or how quickly she's growing.. We can use that to our advantage" caster says, his smirk widening.
"You mean to bluff them" jon asks, beginning to understand.
"Yes.. We'll make them believe they're getting Belserion in exchange for the Unsullied.. Once the army is under our command.. We'll deal with the Good Masters" caster replies, his voice low and calculating.
"That's... Bold brother.. But also incredibly dangerous.. What if they see through the ruse" mya says, a mix of admiration and concern crossing her features.
"It's a risk certainly.. But remember these are men driven by greed and power.. The prospect of owning a dragon will be too tempting for them to resist" caster says, his hand absently stroking belserion's scales as the dragon curls around his shoulders.
"And what of the Unsullied themselves.. How can we be sure they'll follow us once we've... Acquired them" jon says, his brow furrowed and considering the plan.
"That's where the real challenge lies.. We're not just buying an army.. We're offering them freedom.. A choice.. Something they've never had before" caster said, a hint of compassion in his eyes. The trio fall silent for a moment as the crackling of the fire and the soft chirping of belserion filling the camp. Caster feels the road ahead is fraught with danger but his audacious scheme may yet succeed. A few days later they see the towering walls of astapor looming on the horizon, their red brick gleaming in the harsh sunlight.
"Remember… I am nothing more than a Westerosi noble seeking to purchase Unsullied.. Belserion is our trump card" caster said, his voice low as he addressed his companions.
"We'll need to be careful" tyene says, guiding her horse close to his and her eyes on the approaching city. Ulthor shifts on his horse as they near the city gate with a covered cage in his lap and inside belserion chips softly, occasionally letting out a puff of smoke that escapes through the fabric.
"Easy now.. Just a little longer" ulthor murmurs to the dragon, his voice barely audible. The group make their way through the bustling streets of astapor, the air thick with the scent of spices and the sound of countless languages. Caster's eyes dart from face to face while searching for any sign of recognition or suspicion. They find a suitable inn near the Plaza of Pride, where they could stable their horses and prepare for the negotiations ahead. The others settle in as caster and jon venture out into the city, their ears pricked for any useful information.
"We seek an audience with the Good Masters.. We've come to purchase Unsullied" caster announces to a merchant in the plaza, his voice carrying just the right mix of authority and deference but also some coin in his gloved hand.
"Ah you'll want to speak with Kraznys mo Nakloz.. He oversees the training and sale of the Unsullied.. You'll find him in the Plaza of Pride but be warned… His prices are as steep as his tongue is sharp" the merchant says, his eyes lighting up with interest and taking the offered coins. Caster and jon continue to explore a bit to get a feel of the city with the salt of the sea wafting in but also see the symbol of the harpy as well as the Plaza of Punishment. Caster and jon see many slaves in heavy chains or tortured for all to see as a warning. Jon wanted to give some water to woman but caster stops him and shakes his head, "She would sooner refuse it" caster says, stifling his anger and jon reluctantly nods as they head back to their inn. Once back in the inn and with his lion's fury, "Tomorrow we meet with Kraznys mo Nakloz.. And if all goes well.. We leave Astapor with an army at our backs and their freedom intact" he said, his voice steady despite the anticipation coursing through him. They continue to plan contingencies and he sends them to explore the city themselves, making sure they can know the city for themselves. Night falls over the ancient city as caster stands at the window of his room, looking out over the red brick buildings and winding streets.
"My Lion" tyene says with her warm arms wrapping around his waist and her familiar scent enveloping him, "You need to rest.. You've been strategizing all day.. Let me help you relax" she whispers, her breath tickling his ear. Caster turns in her embrace and meets her mischievous gaze, "I appreciate the offer but there's still so much to consider..." he said softly, a small smile playing on his lips.
"I can see the tension in your shoulders and the worry in your eyes.. You need to clear your mind if you're to face the Good Masters tomorrow" tyene says, pressing her fingers to his lips and silence him. Caster hesitates as he torn between his sense of duty and the temptation tyene presents, "I could even convince my sisters to join us if you like.. Obara and Nymeria are just down the hall..." she says, her voice dropping to a sultry whisper.
"Tyene.. That's... Quite an offer" caster begins, his voice hoarse and mind imagining.
"We Sand Snakes share everything.. And we all agree you need to relax" tyene says with a soft laugh, trailing her fingers along his jawline. Caster is tempted for a moment as the stress of the upcoming negotiations weigh heavily on him and the idea of losing himself in pleasure is undeniably appealing.
"Thank you Tyene.. Truly.. But I think what I need most right now is a clear head and a good night's sleep" caster says with a gentle sigh and takes her hand, bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss.
"Then let us sleep my lion" tyene says, them stands on her tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. She guides him into bed and they settle in with her in his arms as some of his tension leaves his body. The soft sounds of the city drift through the window and he slowly allows himself to relax.
-XxX-
Caster and his pride make their way towards the plaza of pride to meet with kraznys as ulthor holds the cage holding belserion and caster is some finer clothes. The red brick buildings seem to loom over them and caster could feel the weight of countless eyes upon them as they walk. They enter the plaza with its vast expanse lined by statues of past rulers and heroes of astapor. The sun beats down mercilessly on the red brick pavement while causing heat to shimmer in the air. Caster's eyes scans the plaza and takes in the opulent displays of wealth and power that surrounds them.
"There.. That must be Kraznys mo Nakloz and his fellow Good Masters" jon murmurs, nodding towards a group of richly dressed men standing beneath a gilded canopy. Caster nods while straightening his shoulders as he leads his companions towards the group but as they approach, a burly guard steps forward.
"State your business" the guard says in broken common tongue, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
"We seek an audience with Kraznys mo Nakloz.. We've come to purchase Unsullied" caster says, meeting the guard's gaze and his voice in the tone of an arrogant noble. The guard's eyes narrows but he nods curtly and turns to speak to one of the men under the canopy, after a brief exchange in Valyrian has the guard jerking his head towards caster's group.
"Wait here" the guard grunts out, before striding off into a nearby building. The guard return moments later but followed by a young woman with golden skin and bright, intelligent eyes. She approaches caster's group with graceful steps while her demeanor is calm and composed, "Greetings Honored Guests… I am Missandei and translator for the Good Master Kraznys mo Nakloz.. He bids you welcome to Astapor and asks how he may be of service" she said in flawless common tongue.
"We thank the Good Master for his welcome.. We've come to purchase Unsullied for our... Endeavors" caster says after inclining his head respectfully. Missandei's expression remains neutral but caster thought he detected a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. She turns and speaks rapidly in valyrian to kraznys as he responds with a series of curt gestures but caster understands every word, thanks to the countless hours he had spent poring over valyrian texts under his uncle tyrion's guidance.
"The Good Master is pleased to hear of your interest… He invites you to witness a demonstration of the Unsullied's capabilities.. If you would follow me" missandei translated smoothly. They begin to move across the plaza as caster exchanges a meaningful glance with tyene. The first step of their plan is in motion but the real challenge has yet to come. Missandei leads them to an area where about a dozen or more unsullied stand at attention, their expressions blank and their postures rigid.
"These dogs have been standing here since dawn without food or water.. They would remain until they dropped dead if I commanded it" kraznys says in rapid valyrian next to missandei, his tone dripping with disdain.
"The Good Master explains that these soldiers have been standing at attention since morning.. Demonstrating their endurance and discipline" missandei translates smoothly, her voice devoid of the insults kraznys has spewed. Caster nods while feigning ignorance of the valyrian language while inwardly seething at kraznys' cruel words. He watches as the slaver continues his explanation, detailing the brutal training process that began when the unsullied were merely five years old.
"Only one in four survives the training.. The weak die and the strong become the perfect soldiers" kraznys boasts, a sick pride in his voice. Missandei softens the translation once again but caster could see the barely perceptible tightening around her eyes as she speaks. Kraznys then approaches an unsullied, moves his shield and open his leather armor then draws the unsullied's knife to slice off his nipple to demonstrate the unsullied's immunity to pain. The unsullied didn't even flinch, his eyes staring straight ahead as blood trickled down his chest. Caster feels his companions stiffen beside him but he maintains his composure, even as his stomach churned with disgust. Kraznys mistakes caster's stoic reaction for approval and grins widely, "They feel no pain.. No fear.. And they show no mercy.. To complete their training.. Each Unsullied must take a newborn slave child and kill it before its mother's eyes" he crows and this time missandei's composure slips slightly as she translates.
"I See" caster says, remaining stoic but plays his part by covering his mouth with a cloth.
"Eight thousand Unsullied stand ready for purchase.. You have until tomorrow to decide.. Though I doubt a soft Westerosi Lord like yourself could afford such an army" kraznys continues, unaware of the storm brewing in caster's mind.
"The Good Master says that Eight Thousand Unsullied are available for purchase.. He offers you until tomorrow to make your decision" missandei says, her voice steady despite the tension in the air.
Tell the Good Master that there's no need to wait.. I'll take them all" caster interjects, before missandei could fully finish. Missandei's eyes widen slightly but she quickly composes herself and relayed caster's words to kraznys as the slaver's face contorts in surprise, then greed and barks out a laugh.
"And how does this pretty child intend to pay for such a magnificent army" kraznys sneers in valyrian, not bothering to wait for missandei's translation. Caster meets kraznys' gaze steadily with a fainting and nods to ulthor, "My payment will be this" caster said, his voice clear and confident. The man rivaling the mountain that rides steps forward with cage in hand and removes the cloth, revealing belserion and the white dragon chirps softly, smoke curling from her nostrils as she blinks in the bright sunlight. Kraznys' jaw drops with his eyes bulging as he stares at the impossible creature before him while missandei stares in shock as well.
"Impossible… Dragons are extinct" kraznys breathes out, his earlier bravado evaporating and missandei translates. Caster allows himself a small smile as his plan is work "Clearly not all of them.. This is Belserion and she is my offer for the Unsullied" he said, reaching out to stroke belserion's scales through the cage. Missandei's eyes wide with wonder and translates caster's words as kraznys' expression shifts rapidly from shock to calculation to unbridled greed.
"A dragon.. Worth more than all the gold in Westeros" kraznys murmurs, taking a step closer and caster tenses slight but keeps his composure.
"Do we have a deal Good Master" caster says, keeping his voice level. Kraznys' eyes dart between caster and the dragon but a greedy smile spreads across his face.
"Yes.. Come tomorrow and the Unsullied will be yours.. Come to Plaza of Punishment" kraznys said, his voice thick with anticipation.
"The Good Master agrees to the trade.. He invites you to return tomorrow to complete the transaction.. Meet at the Plaza o Punishment" missandei translates smoothly, her eyes flickering between caster and kraznys. Caster allows a small smile to play across his lips but careful not to let his relief show too plainly, "Excellent… We shall return at dawn to finalize our agreement" he said, his voice calm and confident.
"Until tomorrow then" kraznys said, his eyes never leaving belserion. They turn to leave the plaza and make the trek back to the inn seeming both longer and shorter than before. Caster's mind races with plans and contingencies, aware that the most dangerous part of their mission was yet to come. A commotion catches caster's eyes as young child of about six has stumbled into the path of an oncoming cart pulled by two horses. Caster darts forward with hesitation and pulls the child back as the horses rear, their hooves pawing the air dangerously close to where the child had been.
"Are you alright child" caster asks, kneeling to look the child in the eye. The girl nods while wide-eyed and still shaken, "Thank you sir" she whispers before scampering off to her worried mother. Caster stands and brushes the dust from his trousers but feels the weight of a gaze upon him and spots a hooded figure watching him intently from the shadows of a nearby alley. The lion's fury reach for their weapons but caster raises his hand to stay their hands as there is something familiar about this presence, something that tugged at the edges of his memory.
"You always try to save the helpless my Prince" the figure said, his voice carrying the weight of years and wisdom as with a fluid motion. He pushes back his hood to reveal a face caster had not seen in long time but would never forget, "Ser Barristan?!" caster said, his eyes widening in disbelief. Barristan's weathered face creased with a beard is a mixture of pride and concern, "It's good to see you haven't lost your compassion" he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. Caster's mind whirls with questions about why barristan is here in astapor, had his brother sent the legendary to find him, were there others ready kill him if needed.
"We should not speak here.. There are too many ears in Astapor and not all of them friendly" barristan said, his eyes scanning the crowded street. Caster nods while still processing the shock of this unexpected reunion, "Our inn isn't far.. We can talk there" he said, gesturing for barristan to join them. They resume their walk as caster couldn't help but feel apprehension about the legendary knight and head of kingsguard. Upon reaching the inn, they quickly ascend the stairs to caster's room as his lion's fury immediately begin checking for any signs of intrusion or hidden listeners. Caster takes a seat in a chair and his eyes on barristan, who is standing near the window with his weathered hands clasped behind his back.
"Ser Barristan.. I must admit.. Your presence here is unexpected.. Why has the Commander of the Kingsguard here in Astapor and not Kings Landing" caster begins, his voice a mix of respect and curiosity but also wariness.
"Ever since I was dismissed from the Kingsguard.. I've been searching for you my Prince" barristan starts, a hint of sadness in his eyes and the room goes deathly silent.
"Dismissed from the Kingsguard?!" caster says, his eyebrows raised in shock. The elderly knight's shoulders slump slightly with the weight of his recent experiences evident in his posture, "It's a long and bitter tale.. Your brother King Joffrey in his... Wisdom.. Decided that I was too old to serve.. He cast me aside like a worn-out cloak" he said, his voice tinged with regret.
"That's preposterous.. Your skills and experience are invaluable" caster says, his eyes narrowing and a flash of anger crossing his face.
"Your words are kind my Prince.. But in truth it was a blessing in disguise.. It freed me to seek you out.. To offer my sword to the one I believe can truly make a difference" barristan said, a ghost of a smile touching his lips at caster's defense.
"And how did you find us" caster asks, leaning forward with interest.
"I may be old but I haven't lost all my wits.. Rumors of a young warrior named the Storm Lion and commander of the Second Sons.. Who killed Khal Drogo but here in Astapor I happened upon Sylvie and it didn't take much to put the pieces together you were here" barristan explains, his eyes twinkling with a hint of his old vigor. Caster glances to his loyal shield and back to barristan, "And now that you've found us.. What are your intentions Ser Barristan" caster asks, impressed by the old knight's resourcefulness.
"As I said to serve you my Prince.. If you'll have me.. I failed your father but I won't fail you" barristan says, his posture reflecting years of service and duty. A heavy silence fall over the room as caster ponders on the matter while searching the knight's face for deception but sees none.
"Ser Barristan.. Your reputation precedes you and I have nothing but respect for your years of service... But how can I be sure of your loyalty" caster said finally, choosing his words carefully. Barristan draws his sword and kneels to one knee with his head bowed, "I swear to you on my honor and my life.. My loyalty is yours.. I've seen the destruction wrought by those who sit on the Iron Throne and I wish to serve someone who can bring change" he says, his eyes flashing with a mixture of pain and determination.
"Very well Ser Barristan… But know this our path is not an easy one and it may lead to places you never expected" caster says with a slow nod.
"My Prince.. I've lived long enough to expect the unexpected.. Whatever challenges lie ahead.. I am ready to face them at your side" barristan said, his lips quirking in a small smile. Caster nods and begins to brief barristan on his plan here in astapor, the room buzzing with renewed energy and purpose. The day wears on as strategies were discussed, roles assigned and contingencies planned. The addition of barristan's experience and insight proves invaluable, adding new dimensions to caster's scheme. The sun begins to set as one by one his companions take their leave with tyene and barristan remaining behind.
"Ser Barristan… Tell me of King's Landing. What news have you heard" caster said, his voice cutting through the silence and his finger traces the rim of his cup.
"The capital is in turmoil since your father's death.. Your brother Joffrey's rule grows more erratic by the day and the smallfolk suffer for it" barristan begins, his voice grave. Caster's brow furrows as he considered the state of affairs in westeros, "I'm sure War has engulfed the realm too" he said, his voice tinged with concern.
"Indeed my Prince.. The situation is dire.. First your uncles Stannis and Renly have both declared themselves King.. Dividing loyalties and armies alike" barristan continues, his weathered face etched with worry. Caster's eyes widen slightly at this news, "Both of them.. Seven Hells" he mutters, shaking his head and downing some wine.
"That's not all.. Robb Stark clashes with the Lannisters in the Riverlands.. Seeking vengeance for his father's execution.. The North has also declared him King in the North" the old knight continues, his voice low and measured.
"A King in the North.. The realm hasn't seen such a title since Torrhen Stark bent the knee to Aegon the Conqueror" caster muses to himself while processing this information, "What about my mother" he adds, turning back to his family.
"Queen Cersei maintains her grip on power in King's Landing.. The city is rife with tension and the smallfolk grow restless with each passing day" barristan said expression hardening slightly, his eyes reflecting the memories of his public humiliation by the queen regent.
"And my siblings" caster asks, his voice betraying a hint of worry for his younger brother and sister.
"Your sister Myrcella has been sent to Dorne.. A political move by your Uncle Tyrion to secure an alliance with House Martell.. Young Tommen remains in the Red Keep and sheltered from the worst of the court's intrigues but for how long I cannot say" barristan replies, his tone careful. Caster nods slowly as westeros is now a powder keg, ready to explode at the slightest spark.
"Thank you Ser Barristan" caster said with his voice firm but warm, "Now come sit with us.. I'm sure Tyene would love to hear some of your tales" he adds, gesturing to an empty seat near them. Barristan hesitates for a moment with his weathered face showing a mix of respect and curiosity but caster's invitation seems to ease some of the tension in his shoulders.
"Perhaps you could regale Tyene with the story of how you saved King Aerys in Duskendale.. Or if you prefer you could share some memories of my younger days training with you and the other Knights" caster suggests, a glint of admiration in his steel blue eyes. Tyene's eyes lit up with interest as her gaze flicks between caster and barristan, "Oh I'd love to hear both.. How was my lion when he was small" she said, leaning into caster's shoulder. Barristan nods with a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he takes the offered seat, "It would be my pleasure my Prince.. Though I must say.. Your skills with a sword was natural" he said, his voice carrying the weight of years and countless stories.
"You're too kind Ser Barristan.. I remember fumbling with my footwork more often than not" caster says with a small chuckle, a fond look crossing his face. Barristan settles in with the atmosphere around them grows warmer. The old knight's presence seems to bring a sense of history and gravitas to their small gathering.
"Well then shall we start with Duskendale" barristan starts, his eyes twinkling with memory.
-XxX-
Caster rises early with his mind already racing for the day's impending events, his lions were ready for the day with the addition of barristan and his years experience add a powerful ally. They make their way through the bustling streets with ulthor again holding the cage holding belserion and barristan next to him. They arrive at the designated meeting place that is an open area where kraznys awaited them. The slaver is not alone as he is flanked by Greizhen mo Ullhor and Yezzan zo Qaggaz, their presence adding an extra layer of tension to the already charged atmosphere. Caster's breath catches in his throat as he beholds the sight before him. Stretching out as far as the eye could see were the 8,000 unsullied, standing in perfect formation.
"Quite a sight isn't it.. Eight thousand of the finest warriors in the known world" kraznys said through missandei, his voice dripping with pride and greed.
"Indeed it is.. They are everything you promised and more" caster replies, his eyes scanning the rows of soldiers.
"Shall we proceed with the transaction" greizhen asks through missandei, his eyes fixed hungrily on the covered cage. Caster takes a deep breath and steels himself for what was to come, "Yes… Let's begin" he said, his voice clear and intent noticed. Ulthor comes forward and reveals belserion once again to kraznys but now to greizhen and yezzan. Caster moves to the cage and opens the door as belserion slips onto his arm, around her neck is a collar and a length of chain attached that caster gently grasps. Belserion stretches her wings as caster's lions spread out slightly, each taking up strategic positions around the area. Kraznys' eyes were wide with barely contained excitement and steps forward with the harpy's fingers, a cat-o-nine tails that symbolized ownership of the unsullied but before he could hand it over. Caster's gaze shifts to missandei and his blue eyes on her, "I'll take her too" he said with a point, his voice carrying across the area. Kraznys frowns and is clearly caught off guard by this unexpected request, "The girl?!.. But she wasn't part of our agreement" he protests through missandei's translation.
"Consider her part of the deal now.. A dragon is worth far more than 8,000 Unsullied and a single translator.. Wouldn't you agree" caster says through missandei but his voice carries a note of steel. The slaver hesitates as his greed wars with his desire to keep missandei but as belserion lets out a low thrill, stretching her neck towards the sky. Kraznys seems to remember the true prize at stake, "Very well.. Take the girl.. She's yours" he said finally, waving a hand dismissively. Missandei's eyes widen with a mix of emotions flashing across her face like fear, hope and uncertainty but caster gives her a reassuring nod. Kraznys extends the whip towards caster and the prince reaches out, his fingers closing around the golden handle of the whip and kraznys' fingers around the chain.
"Is it done" caster asks, his voice steady despite the gravity of the situation.
"You hold the whip.. The Unsullied are yours" missandei said softly, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and wariness. Kraznys' face flushed with excitement but his triumph is short-lived as the dragon begins to resist and pulling against the restraint. Caster's eyes sweep over the ranks of unsullied, their stillness a stark contrast to kraznys' frantic movements.
"Unsullied!.. I am Caster Storm the Storm Lion.. Your new commander!" caster calls, his tone commanding attention. Missandei quickly translates his words with her voice carrying to the farthest reaches of the assembled army. The unsullied remain motionless but caster could feel their collective gaze upon him, "March forward ten paces and halt!" he orders, his grip tightening on the whip. The unsullied begin to move after a moment with their steps were perfectly synchronized, the sound of their feet hitting the ground in unison creating a rhythmic thunder that seems to shake the very foundations. They halt after the ten paces as kraznys continued to grapple with belserion, her white scales shimmering in the sunlight as she thrashes against the chain, her wings unfurling and snapping with sharp cracks.
"This beast won't listen!" kraznys shouts, his face red with exertion and frustration. Caster turns to face the slaver with his eyes cold and unyielding, "Because Belserion doesn't like you" he says in perfect valyrian. Kraznys' eyes widen in shock and his mouth gaping open, "You... You speak Valyrian" he stammers, his previous bravado evaporating.
"I speak a few languages… Unsullied!.. Slay the Good Masters who ally with Kraznys!" caster replies, his tone even. The area is silent for a moment but then with frightening efficiency, the unsullied spring into action. Their spears flash in the sunlight as they turn on the slavers who once commanded them. Chaos erupts as screams fill the air as the masters realized their fate. Kraznys is still clutching belserion's chain and looks at caster with a mixture of fear and rage.
"Belserion... Dracarys" caster says calmly with his eyes on his dragon. The dragon's chest swells and with a roar, spews a torrent of flames directly into kraznys' face. The slaver's screams were cut short as he is engulfed in fire as the chain falls from his hands and he staggers about. Yezzan falls to his knees amid the pandemonium with his opulent robes pooling around him. "Mercy!.. Please I beg you!" he cries, his voice cracking with terror. Greizhen's face contorts with desperation and reaches into his robes, his hand emerging clutching a hidden dagger but before he could make a move. Sylvie's sword meets his gut and he crumples to the ground while belserion lands on caster's shoulder. The air is thick from the metallic scent of blood and the cries of the dying mingle with the sound of clashing steel as the unsullied and lions methodically carry out their orders. Caster's eyes then lock onto yezzan, who is still kneeling on the ground and trembling with fear. Caster drops the golden whip and pulls a dagger from his belt as he approaches the cowering slaver.
"Are you allies with Kraznys?!" caster asks, his voice cutting through the noise of battle like a knife.
"No.. No!.. I swear it!.. We merely had business dealings nothing more!" yezzan stammers, his voice high with panic. Caster studies the man for a moment with his expression unreadable but lowers his dagger, "Then Astapor is yours" he declares, his voice carrying a note of finality.
"M-mine" yezzan stutters, blinking in confusion and hardly daring to believe what he is hearing.
"Yes… But remember this day.. Remember what happened here" caster said with his eyes hard, "Spread the word.. Tell them a Storm came to Astapor.. Tell them that this Storm will come to them if they seek to avenge Kraznys and his friends" he adds, leaning closer but put the dagger to yezzan's face.
"I will.. I swear it!" yezzan says while nodding vigorously, relief and fear warring on his face. The chaos in astapor begins to die down as the unsullied having make short work of their former masters. Belserion trills to the sky as caster turns away and yezzan to contemplate as the unsullied part before him, their eyes following his every move.
"Follow me" caster says and the unsullied turn to follow their new commander. His lions converge with him as they head to the inn for their things and horses as the people of astapor give them a wide berth as new of the good masters' death has begun to spread. Missandei follows them with uncertainty in eyes and tyene approaches the former translator.
"Come on.. You'll ride with me" tyene said, extending her hand. Missandei slowly nods and follows tyene as the sand snake helps her on the back of her horse but missandei's curiosity got the better of her.
"Who is he.. This man who killed the Good Masters" missandei asked tyene, her voice quiet as she nods towards caster. Tyene glances back at missandei with a small smile playing on her lips, "That is my lion.. The Second Prince Caster Baratheon of Westeros" she said, her voice filled with pride and a hint of something more.
"He is a Prince not a noble?!" missandei says, her eyes widening and looking at caster with newfound wonder.
"He's known by many names across the lands.. The Second Son.. Tamer of a Mountain.. Blue-eyed Demon.. One Hundred Man-slayer.. Rogue Prince and The Black Swordsman to name a few" tyene says, her voice taking on a storyteller's cadence. Missandei listens intently as the ride with her gaze fixed on caster's back as he leads their procession out of astapor. The man who had come like a storm as the city walls falls away behind them. Missandei couldn't help but wonder what other changes this storm lion would bring to the world.
To be Continued
AN2: I'll end here with Caster leaving Astapor and 8,000 soldiers stronger. Now many may think why is Caster not freeing others or occupying the city as his like Daenerys did. Well the simple is Caster is building his army and knows he can't change everything in Astapor as Yunaki and Meeren could fight him, the people could revolt and the slaves would simply find new Masters. Instead Caster killed those allied with Kraznys and left Yezzan alive. Now Caster is not virtuous young man, the Storm of the Freys comes to mind and it is reason Caster is not a Knight as he's done some horrible things to his enemies. Next chapter picks up a several months later with Caster's army heading for Volantis but a Golden Company comes knocking. Also we're getting close to his return to Westeros. Thank you for your Support and Would You Kindly Review.