A Comment on Age
All characters in this story are 18 years or older, despite their ages in the original fiction.
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“Your grace, unrest are rising in Astapor and Yunkai,” the envoy reports, “the councils fear that they may not be able to keep the peace without some help. They humbly request that her grace dispatches more soldiers to their aid”
Sitting on her throne atop the Great Pyramid of Meereen, Daenerys frowned. She had left a council of 3 – a healer, a scholar, and a priest – in both cities to govern in her stead. Before she could respond, however, the gruff voice of the Shavepate cut in.
“Absolutely useless. Her grace liberated the cities, destroyed the masters, left them in charge, and yet barely a week goes by without them pestering us for help. Should we change their swaddling clothes while we are at it?”
“Our heart goes out to the people of Yunkai and Astapor,” the gentle voice of Hizdar Zo Loraq rang from her left, “but surely the people of Yunkai and Astapor must learn to manage by themselves. Our army isn’t large enough to be spread across three cities.”
“I have heard your concerns.” Daenerys finally spoke, she appreciated the wisdom of her advisors, but she has already made up her mind on this subject. “The people of Astapor and Yunkai are my people too, and I will not turn a deaf ear to their pleas. The Second Sons will ride for Astapor, and Grey Worm will send 300 Unsullied to Yunkai. You are to keep the peace in the cities and report back the situations”
“The beautiful and noble Yazira Naim, the gentle and wise Maizara Zoliman, the charming and humble Kaheela Kan, the kind hearted and soft spoken Fayha Azam and the wise and understanding Mirza Hena, here to discuss the issue of the squatters inside of their homes.” It was a herald that announced the arrival, and Daenerys is already feeling revolt rising inside her.
Daenerys watched them as they approached where she was sitting. Right away, it was going to be clear that she wasn’t going to be able to stand those damned nobles. She could see it by those looks of entitlement on their faces; like they already knew that whatever they had come here for, would be granted to them. How could anyone deny them, after all, when they were as obviously distraught by their predicaments?
Daenerys was dressed in a Tokar, enhancing her discomfort. She loathed being in one, hating the fringe dangling from her body, and how she could only comfortably stand in one position. Her hands were in front of her belly, her arms barely touching the side of her body. It required her to overuse the muscles in her arms, which only made her more frustrated to be in front of these noble women. They were dressed in the same silks, each one coloured slightly differently and adorned with different decorations. Daenerys didn’t much care for this blatant display of wealth and stature, as all she now saw was the clothing of a group of former slave masters. There was nothing — at least according to Daenerys — to be respected about that, and by wearing them now, even if only to blend in, she was making herself look the same. She loathed it.
“Do you care to elaborate?” Daenerys asked. She maintained stature, making it clear that her rule would stand no matter what. She had come to save Meereen, and now she would make it very clear that she ruled here. What she thought was best would happen, and none of that included putting in favours for former slavers.
“You must help us!” It was a shrill voice that irritated Daenerys. “You simply must. You wouldn’t be able to envision the state they’ve left us in. Those squatters have ruined what we spent our lives building. You must help us get them out.”
The Queen of Meereen was looking at a group of noble women. Although their tone of voice was desperate, their expressions showed nothing but entitlement. Daenerys felt her teeth gritting behind her lips, agitation welling up within her. She already knew there would be no outlet for it, and that this particular feeling would linger for the rest of her day. “They are doing what they must do to survive,” Daenerys spoke. “I’m afraid there is nothing I can do against a group of people that simply tries to live how they see fit.”
It was quiet for a moment. Five pairs of eyes looked at Daenerys with disbelief in their eyes. As if those nobles, many of which — or at least Daenerys could safely assume — were former slave masters and traders, believed that everything would always work out in their favour. How could the Queen of Meereen take mercy on squatters, while their arrogant selves had to stand by and watch them survive?
“And you are showing mercy for those thieves?!” It was one woman in particular that had taken it upon herself to speak for her whole group. “They take what doesn’t belong to them, and you are in support of that?”
Daenerys looked at her without expression. She neither nodded, nor shook her head. “You mustn’t speak of taking something that doesn’t belong to you.” After all, they had taken lives that didn’t belong to them. To use and abuse in whatever way they pleased.
The voice of Hizdar rang from his left in gentle warning. “It’s in everyone’s best interest to grant them help. The people need to know that peace and order has returned to the city”. Daenerys’ chest felt tight with an unwillingness to act in their favour. However, she knew well that the words of her advisor were true. The city of Meereen had to recover from the chaos, and for that it was more than necessary for her to get the squatters out of these noble homes.
It was almost as though the woman had understood. There was a particular look of smug confidence in her eyes. Daenerys couldn’t stand it, but there was nothing to be done about it. The tightness in her chest would simply have to remain. “I’ll make sure they leave,” Daenerys said, “And now you may leave.”
The group of women each exchanged a glance, but it wasn’t gratitude or anything of the sort that Daenerys found in there. Instead, it was another wave of entitlement that seemed to have washed over them. “What about their destruction? The damage caused is quite severe for all of
us, and direly heartbreaking for some. Those thieves… They’ve ruined everything of value they could find.”
She didn’t need to eye her advisor to know what his eyes would be implying, but that didn’t matter to her. “There is no way I can assist you with that,” Daenerys spoke somewhat coldly. “I can get your property free, but the damage done cannot be restored. There is enough mess to deal with.”
The woman stared at her in silence, evidently displeased with what she had been offered. Daenerys wanted to turn it all back on the spot, but before she even got the chance to do that, the woman turned around and encouraged her ‘friends’ to do the same. Daenerys could feel herself getting angrier and angrier and in silence she wondered whether the tightness in her chest would ever leave her.
***
Even when things were meant to be good, Daenerys was plagued by sleeplessness and restlessness. She could feel something swirling within the pit of her stomach, making her unable to keep her eyes shut for longer than a few seconds at a time. She needed something, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to find rest before she had found it.
It wasn’t that she was sure what she wanted, but summoning Missandei seemed like the only possible solution at this time at night. This time, it was just that the ache she felt was not down between her legs, but at the tips of her fingers. It was as though she wanted to strangle something, punch something, even if only to feel a sense of…. She wasn’t sure what to call it, but at the very least she hoped that Missandei would be able to help her find it.
The girl stood beside her bed now, her hands behind her back and chest pushed forward slightly, indicating that she was ready to help Daenerys with anything she might want.
“I need your help,” Daenerys simply said. Though her mood was heavy, she didn’t lash out towards Missandei. Of course, whatever Daenerys was feeling now had nothing to do with the loyal Missandei, who already made it more than clear that she had understood Daenerys’ request without needing any sort of detail.
Although it didn’t happen often, it happened often enough for Missandei to recognise Daenerys’ troubled look. She nodded with understanding, and then motioned for the bed as if to silently ask whether she was permitted to enter the bed. Daenerys responded by opening her legs, and revealing that she had already rid herself of her clothing. Like this, the girl could pleasure her without much hassle, and Daenerys could do with a distraction of that type.
Overtime, Missandei had come to learn what Daenerys liked between her legs. The handmaiden laid down flat on her stomach and used her hands to spread Danaerys’ labia open a little. Then, with a delicate finger, she circled her clit, while her tongue worked on seeking out
for the moisture inside of her. Daenaerys leaned back on her elbows in response, looking up at the ceiling as pleasure began to reach her.
It didn’t take long for Daenerys to inevitably start gasping. Missandei took the cue and removed her fingers, so that she could give Daenerys all she had in her with her tongue. It felt far better that way after all, and Missandei seemed to know that all too well after all the times she had done exactly this. She knew the pattern Daenerys liked, and so her tongue swirled around her clit in precise circles. She did it from left to right at first, but then moved on to drawing big circles around her sensitive flesh that she gradually made smaller and smaller. As Dany gasped, she could see that Missandei’s eyes were closed, as though her handmaiden was experiencing pleasure through the mere act of satisfying Daenerys.
As Daenerys was starting to feel the pleasure coming to a high, she tilted her head upwards to the ceiling to get lost in it. She breathed heavily through it, as she impatiently waited for the sensation in her stomach to reach its inevitable climax.
Although she gasped when it happened, it didn’t hit her like it normally would have. She felt only a glimpse of it, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy her needs. It had her let out a bitten back grunt as though to let some of it out, but just like her orgasm, the complaint did very little.
“Missandei,” Daenerys started. She moved her hand to the back of the woman’s head and kept her where she was. “Please do it again.”
It wasn’t usually that Daenerys would ask for a second round of anything, usually having gotten enough after the first. However, it just wasn’t enough. The sensations never fully reached her, and therefore she had no choice but to make Missandei do it for another round, no matter the fact that the sensations now stung and shot right through her. She wanted more. She wanted to feel something real.
Missandei continued with what she had been doing before without any hesitation, like she often did, and Daenerys began to feel the shocks of arousal beginning to fill her again. She lied back, her pale skin glistening in the faint light that shone down upon them. She tried to imagine what it’d look like from above, her own tits pointing up towards the ceiling while Missandei, still dressed in scarce, light blue silk that seemed translucent under the moonlight, was buried with her face between her legs. In the dim light, Daenerys could barely see her, but by the way the other girl’s tongue swirled around her clit as though it had never tasted something so good before, Daenerys could safely determine that she was. She was real. This was real. So, how was it that it didn’t feel like that at all?
It was then that she abruptly sat up. She had had enough of the dull ache of pleasure and wanted more. She didn’t know exactly what had befallen her, but she felt a desire for something different; something more. She spread her legs a little, still making sure that Missandei was able to reach every pleasurous part of her pussy while she leaned over the girl between her legs.
There, she pushed her hand past the waistband of her skirt piece and roamed it over her ass until she could properly reach between her legs, inserting a finger.
Missandei, although slightly startled and taken aback, stopped with what she was doing. A gasp left her lips, her breath hitting Daenerys against the cunt. It sent something like a shock right through her and, although it wasn’t something she could get a particular lot out of, she knew better what to do now. She needed more. More than another orgasm. More. It was just that Missandei, leaning back submissively with a willing, obedient look in her eyes, wasn’t playing the part that Daenerys needed her to play. She didn’t need the other woman to spread her legs in order to take her finger better, but she did want…
“Undress yourself,” Daenerys ordered. “I want to see you naked tonight.”
Missandei said nothing, and instead threw her a confused glance, almost as though she wondered whether Daenerys was being serious. Of course, Daenerys commanded Missandei to pleasure her from time to time, but it had never been like this before. Daenerys was determined, though, and she showed that clearly in a demanding expression. Eventually, after looking Daenerys in the eye for just a few seconds, confusion made place for a small smile. Like she understood it now.
She sat up, doing exactly what she was expected to do. Lying back, her hands roamed underneath her clothing, sensually but quickly slipping it all off. In the dim light that shone down upon them, Missandei’s dark skin formed a high contrast with Daenerys’ pale one. For a reason unbeknownst to Daenerys, that made her want to move closer; close the distance. She was slowly starting to figure out what it was that she wanted from Missandei. “Lie back,” she therefore ordered. Missandei did exactly as she was told, her arms lying flat beside her body upon the mattress as she awaited further instruction.
Daenerys pushed away all of the covers she still clung to to cover her chest, finally revealing herself to Missandei entirely. Then, she took a seat between Missandei’s opened legs, until she could feel the other woman’s labia pressing against her own. “Listen,” Daenerys said. Missandei moved herself up a little, looking Daenerys in her piercing, convincing eyes. “I want you to make me come before you come yourself. If you feel good, you hold on. You make sure I get there first, and try your best. To win.”
“To win?” Missandei’s voice sounded for the first time that night.
“Yes,” Daenerys answered. No hesitation. She knew her command was strange, but she was determined nonetheless. Perhaps the only way she could find satisfaction was to trigger something like anger, or aggravating, and losing certainly would do that now. She felt it.
‘Why do you want to lose?’ Daenerys could read that question in Missandei’s, but it was never articulated. Instead, she answered Daenerys’ confusing request by simply… doing exactly what
was wanted from her. She moved herself up, tits moving along slightly with her movement, held herself up on her elbows and started to move.
Missandei’s fingers moved between them, moving their lips apart so that their clits finally touched. Daenerys couldn’t feel much just yet, or at least not past the obvious pleasure that the touch caused against her already sensitive cunt, but then Missandei’s hips began to move a little more frantically, like she had picked up on the urgency behind Daenerys’ request.
It was then that a fight began. As Missandei’s hips moved with force, Daenerys’ too began to pick up. She moved more frantically than Missandei was, urging her to keep adding more pressure to her thrusts. Missandei’s teeth, glowing white in the light, were dug in her bottom lip. She threw her head back right after, gasping as the pleasure began welling up within her too. It felt better now, simply because there was a sort of anger Daenerys felt she was able to let out now. Instead of letting out a moan, she let out a muffled grunt behind gritted teeth of her own.
Their bodies moved together frantically. Every time Daenerys thrust harder, applying more pressure, Missandei took the hint and did the same. Dany could see pleasure in the handmaiden’s eyes, but that in itself was enough for Missandei to ride against her harder. Daenerys could clearly feel what it was doing to her, and she grew weaker against the touch. It wasn’t something she normally would have accepted, but right now she was washed over by a wave of humiliation that satisfied whatever feeling rested within her. The wave gave her the chance to let it out, to rub harder and faster, until the pleasure became so overwhelming she caught herself whimpering. Her eyes opened when it happened, Missandei’s wet cunt sliding against her making it feel only better. It shouldn’t have been like that, and she shouldn’t have accepted it, but right now it seemed to be exactly what she needed.
As soon as Daenerys’ first moan escaped her lips, indicating that she was slipping over the edge, Missandei pleased her ears with a noise of her own. Her handmaiden’s orgasm had been just as close, because as soon as more fluid left Dany’s dripping wet cunt, Missandei’s head tilted back just as far. Daenerys’ felt the other girl quivering against her, gasping for air as she seemed to revel in her orgasm. It made the momentary satisfaction Daenerys had felt quickly dissipate.It wasn’t what she needed to feel, and Missandei’s orgasm didn’t seem to make her feel anything besides pure bliss. It wasn’t what Daenerys was feeling, as a deep feeling of humiliation settled within her stomach.
Missandei, worn out, her dark body still quivering in the aftermath of what it had gone through, let herself fall back onto the bed. The handmaiden was often quiet, which was really no different now. She lied there, panting out, while Daenerys watched the rapidly rising and falling chest turn into something more steady. When Missandei had clearly recovered, Daenerys was sitting there, stuck with pounding feelings that consumed her whole body. The unfairness of it overwhelmed her to the point of anger, but even that emotion wasn’t something she could easily feel. She was with Missandei, and how could she feel genuine anger towards the person she — perhaps — trusted most of all?
Still, something had to be done. Daenerys shifted, detaching her cunt from Missandei’s and looked over her. Daenerys might normally have admired the beauty of the dark skinned woman against her, but right now she wasn’t capable of emotion like that. Right now, she just felt… empty.
Without sparing it another thought, as though her body was moving on its own, Daenerys’ hand shot towards Missandei’s face. She grabbed a firm hold of her cheeks and yanked her upwards. There was confusion in the girl’s expression again, while Daenerys felt her eyebrows lowering. Ah, how hard was it to understand that Daenerys just needed something. How hard was it for Missandei to get the hint and… help her. She had no idea whether that desperation could be seen on her features at all, but she hoped Missandei would be able to see it through her anger. She trusted Missandei to help her. Who else could?
She saw a hint of pain, a slight wince, on Missandei’s features. It was exactly then that Daenerys could no longer stop herself from doing what she normally would never even think of doing. She squeezed harder, and then harder, until Missandei’s pain grew severe enough for her to attempt to pull away. Daenerys’ decided not to let her, to keep her exactly where she was until she could feel the handmaiden’s dark skin slip out of her fingers. She gritted her teeth, her heart finally beginning to beat a bit more rapidly, while she did her best to get a hold of what she was feeling. Perhaps, though, it was better to just let go entirely…
She wasn’t thinking about it, really. She heard the noise of her hand smacking against Missandei’s face before she realised she’d made the conscious decision to do so. She caught the girl as her head snapped to the side upon the impact, the shock slightly glazing her eyes with tears. Then, she looked at Daenerys with shock in her eyes. What…? Daenerys could read the question clearly in her eyes.
“Did that sting?” Daenerys asked. Her glare disappeared for a moment, but she could feel it pulling at her muscles again. She felt aggressive, but Missandei was not something she could easily feel this for. “Did it hurt?”
“Yes,” Missandei said. Her eyes were big, shocked, confused. “It did…”
“Then hit me back” Daenerys started. At this point, she was speaking without thinking. Right from the heart.
‘What?!’ Missandei’s eyes spoke. “Your Grace, I don’t think—”
“Hit me!” Daenerys demanded. She raised her hand once more. Missandei flinched in response, but didn’t move out of the way. It was as though she was coming to realise what her mistress was asking of her. Even if the request seemed stranger than any quest she had ever received, there was no way for Missandei to keep denying Daenerys what she was asking for. She already pleasured her, so would this really be different?
Daenerys could still see the hesitation in her eyes, and she didn’t like the presence of it. So much, even, that Daenerys lowered her hands once more. Another smack sounded through the room, Missandei’s face snapping to the side another time. “That was an order!” Daenerys spoke demandingly. “Now, do as I command.”
Confused and unaware of what to do, Missandei composed herself nonetheless. She raised her hand. If Daenerys focused her eyes correctly and tried to see past her own fury, she would’ve seen that she could see a slight irritation lingering there. Perhaps it would work, then… perhaps—
Her head snapped to the side, her skin stinging in the aftermath. It sent a shock straight through her heart, causing it to beat harder and louder. She saw a blur in her vision, as if the room had become lighter and darker all at once, and then she knew there was no longer a way to hold back this insatiable anger. She fought back. She slapped back, so hard that Missandei gasped in the aftermath. ‘Fight back!’ Daenerys’ eyes told her. She looked determined, her teeth gritted. She could feel that she was coming back to life. No more of that dull ache that could not be satiated. ‘Now!’
It was then that Missandei let go of the respect she knew she had for her mistress. Of course it lingered somewhere in the back of her mind, but now that Daenerys was slapping her like she was, provoking her, it was apparent that another emotion awakened in her. Missandei, as it looked, wanted to hurt Daenerys back, even if only for the mere sake of hurting her. For exactly that reason, her hits — still mere slaps against Daenerys’ cheeks — became a little harder. Missandei was using force now, and Daenerys could feel it by the way her eyes had started to water. She grunted, her hands balling to fists until quickly they released again.
It was Daenerys who would take the fight to a next level. Although she hadn’t expected she would feel such a desire to hurt her beloved handmaiden, there was no stopping her now. She wanted to say that the dragon had been awakened, and that there was no taming it once it had, but…
Missandei did something Daenerys had not quite expected. Her dark hands grabbed a hold of the mistress’ tits, and they twisted relatively small bags in her grip. Daenerys gasped, her head tilting back as the sting shot through her body, finally prolonging the sensation her orgasm had
left her with. She tilted her head up towards the ceiling, wincing profusely, until she began doing the same without sparing it thought.
At Missandei’s tits, Daenerys yanked. Missandei shot forward, wincing in the same way. In response, her grip grew only firmer, nails now digging in Daenerys’ tender, white skin. She groaned, moaned, and yanked back so hard that the two of them caught themselves constricted in a mauling contest. Daenerys’ nails squeezed the other girl’s skin so brutally that they left marks. She then twisted Missandei’s bags, ensuring that the other girl would likely be left with some bruising after the fight would be over. Not because she wanted to see the aftermath, but because she wanted to feel what it was like to inflict it.
“More,” Daenerys commanded. “Get me—” there.
Missandei’s nails dug into her tits. Daenerys threw her head back to deal with it, but instead she felt more fury. Her own nails did the same, leaving marks that would be red on Daenerys’ skin, but pink on Missandei’s darker flesh. Daenerys yanked at them, pulling Missandei forward so she could ease some of the pain. Although Daenerys had wanted to feel pain, she still wasn’t quite sure how Missandei felt about it. She would have cared about the handmaiden under any other circumstance, caring about her way too deeply, but right now there was little left of her moral compass. She didn’t feel the presence of one; she didn’t want to be guided by one. Not this time.
“If only I loathed you,” Daenerys growled mindlessly. She had no idea what she was saying, “then you would no longer be breathing.”
It was like that when she had fought before. During her battle with Doreah, she had been vicious. She had fought without caring what would happen to her opponent, letting her suffer as much as she could through the act of sexual pleasure. The painful pleasure she had received in return had felt a whole lot more angry, and although Missandei was truly doing her best — Daenerys could feel it — she maintained her loyalty. The handmaiden would not be doing this, had it not been for the fact that Daenerys had commanded her to do it.
Angered by this, the day having weighed heavily on her, Daenerys dug her nails in deeper. “Loathe me, Missandei. Loathe me.” Loathe me like I loathe the noble women, so that I can push you in their shoes and treat you like I wished I could have treated them. “Please…”
It was at that command that one of Missandei’s hands left one of Daenerys’ tits. It moved down Daenerys’ pale body, grabbing a hold of the slight, white hair that adorned Daenerys’ cunt. At first, it seemed like the other girl didn’t know what to do with it, but then Daenerys took the lead again by doing the same. She yanked harder, deciding the strength they would use on each other and Missandei, loyal and willing as she was, pulled just as hard.
The sting caused Missandei to loosen her grip against Daenerys’ tit for a moment, but she quickly redeemed herself and grabbed hold of whatever she could reach. In this instance, two of her fingers clamped around Daenerys’ sensitive nipple. Once again, Daenerys’ head fell back to make sense of the pain that coursed through her body.
A noise escaped Missandei’s lips, after which her teeth dug straight into her bottom lip to stop herself from letting it out. Daenerys’ matched the volume, only now she wasn’t sure whether her noise was one of pain, or one of pleasure.
The relief had her confused. She didn’t want it to feel good as much as she wanted it to fuel her. The women from before occupied her mind, as if it could cause her to see some of them — that one in particular — in Missandei. It caused her to increase her wrath, nails finding the girl’s
nipple in return. However, while Missandei was only holding on to her nipple, pulling slightly, Daenerys dug in her claws. It drew a pained moan from the handmaiden’s mouth, making her pull back slightly until she realised that only enhanced the pain. The only thing that could make her predicament any better, Missandei now knew, was to do the exact same thing in return.
It went on for a little while, until both women let out noises of severe torment. It felt like their nipples were being split in half, blood having slipped out of the tiny wounds they had made in each other’s bodies. Missandei sounded like she was suffering severely, but still she remained willing and loyal. Daenerys caught herself wondering why that was, when she was suffering so severely that she could no longer keep her noises in. It had the grip on Missandei’s labia loosen a little, though it was the very last smidgen of anger that had her go in for yet another hard, long pull.
Please… Daenerys wanted to beg, but she didn’t. She didn’t have to, as the last bit of strength that Missandei came to her in a last attempt to prove her loyalty, by twisting Daenerys’ pale white flesh and making it hurt so much that Missandei, even if only for one moment, felt herself going blind with it.
However, it was nothing like any other fight she had ever fought. Missandei’s fingers trembled as they squeezed. She tried her best, but it was clear that she still felt somewhat confused in the aftermath of it. It was clear that she could not understand why this was happening, or why
she was doing it, which was what ultimately got rid of Daenerys’ small glimpse of temporary satisfaction. Missandei was not the noble woman she had wanted to twist the neck of, nor was she Doreah who she had fought without any second thought. This was Missandei, the young woman whom she valued, the one she had seen as her anchor, now being twisted to the point of agony Daenerys’ fiery touch.
She let go. Missandei gasped when the touch disappeared, and then finally found Daenerys’ eyes. ‘What do you want me to do?’ the handmaiden’s eyes asked her, but Daenerys did not have the answer. She didn’t know. The sting felt good, but it hadn’t managed to make her feel any sort of relief. There was no hatred in Missandei’s touch, and therefore the ache was no longer able to fuel Daenerys’ anger and hunger for revenge. The cause was not here, and Missandei most certainly didn’t deserve this.
“You may stop,” she told the girl. Missandei only needed to hear those words once to oblige, presumably more than happy with her sudden release from this strange situation. She let go of Daenerys right away, leaving her body alone. Daenerys couldn’t even say she missed the slight ache. Normally she might have, but now she just wanted… “You may leave, or you may stay.”
Missandei gave her a slight nod, and then looked at her with a somewhat pained grimace. For a second or so, it was like her handmaiden still wanted to say something, but then she decided against it. Perhaps it was best to leave this fight forgotten, as though it was best not to talk about it at all. Perhaps they could simply share this moment of silence together.
Daenerys felt empty. Following Missandei — who had already done so — she let herself fall backwards. She focused on the slight throbs in her body that barely felt like aches anymore. Missandei had not been a worthy opponent, because she had not been an opponent at all. Daenerys cared too much for her, and would likely find it much too hard to ever touch her like that again. She didn’t want to. Missandei did not deserve the dragon’s wrath.
Daenerys got up from her bed, feeling the frustration still settled deeply within her chest. She was desperate for some fresh air to remove it from her system. She wasn’t positive about the possibility of finding it anywhere at all, but at least the balcony attached to her room provided her with a view beautiful enough to temporarily forget about her own thoughts. It often made her
feel almost tranquil. The lights in the distance bode light relief to her mind. The moonlight shining down upon the pool simply reminded her that her inner turmoil didn’t matter as much as the world outside now seemed to do. Daenerys sighed, wishing that the beauty of it all could fully reach her, but it didn’t now. Sadness had fallen down upon her, making her chest ache more than Missandei’s nails had been able to do.
She had no idea how long she’d been standing there for. Hours seemed to have passed when she finally looked back over her shoulder. The dark figure of her handmaiden looked peaceful on her bed, the white sheets forming a contrast against her dark skin. Daenerys hummed, not
recognising her own feelings. For a reason unbeknownst to her, however, the sleeping girl attracted her to return to her room. She lay down beside her without thinking, until she fell asleep to the soft sound of her handmaiden’s even breathing.
***
Five hundred and sixty leagues from Slavers’ Bay, the great River Rhoyne flowed into the Summer Sea. Spanning across both banks of Rhoyne, Volantis, the greatest city in the world, bathed lazily in the afternoon sun.
Besides its deep water harbour, merchants from a thousand nations called their wares in a thousand tongues. Whalers from Ibben unloaded crates of ambergris, oil, and baleen from their fat-bellied ship that stunk to the high heaven, while elegant Swann ships of the Summer Isles took on cargoes of fine Myrish lace and silk from the distant and mythical lands of Yi-Ti. Meanwhile, far from the bustling ports, thousands of galleons, their sails painted emerald green, rested amidst the gentle waves. To the average citizen of Volantis, this is just another day like many that came before, and like many that will surely come after.
Yet behind the Black Walls, in a grand palace at the center of Old Volantis, the mood was heavy as three men met behind closed doors.
“We should send out the fleet at once!” coughed Malaquo Maegyr, an old and toothless man and one of the three Triarchs of Volantis, “we must put an end to this dragon queen before she sets sail.”
“Why provoke her? We have no quarrel with her. Volantis is hundreds of miles from Meereen.” asked Doniphos Paenymion, a fat man dressed in pale yellow silk. “And if she should set sail, she will sail for Westeros, not Volantis, and I see no cause to give her reason to. I say we stay out of her way.”
“And what happens when she’s on our doorstep? She will pass by Volantis on her way west.” growled Malaquo.
“Then we bar our gates, give her supplies, and send her on her way.” responded Malaquo.
“I still say we send the fleet. The Green Fleet will put an end to her little kingdom. As for the dragons, we should kill them while they are still small.”
“Small or not, the dragons still breath fire, and wood burns, same as hemp ropes and sails.” said Nyessos Vhassar, the final member of the Triarch. “But we can not leave the dragon queen to her devices. She will come to our doorstep one day, and what happens then? What happens should the Breaker of Chain and Liberator of Slavers’ Bay decide to do some liberating right on our doorstep? She must be dealt with… discreetly”
“What do you propose then?” snapped Malaquo impatiently.
Nyessos frowned at Malaquo. The man may be old, but it seems that he remains as belligerent as ever. “Daenerys Targaryen will not leave Slavers’ Bay without her army. Without ships, she will have to take the Demon Road, which no army has ever marched through. For now, I say we keep our merchants away from Slavers’ Bay, while we work to find a solution to her dragons.”
“You forget, my friend,” sighed Doniphos, “Yunkai has ships, and so does Meereen. And unless the Ghiscari had the good sense to set them ablaze before they surrendered, Daenerys may already have all the ships she needs. She could be sailing west even as we speak.”
A faint smirk crept on the lips of Nyessos. “Yunkai… may not be under Daenerys’ control for much longer. As for the ships in the harbour of Meereen… why, they are made of wood too, and wood burns.”
The End
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