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Published:2020-04-25Updated:2026-04-06Words:409,591Chapters:71/?Comments:5,539Kudos:6,021Bookmarks:1,661Hits:467,442
The Stormborn and the Stormbringer
SkilledWarriorKiwi
Chapter 59: The kraken's daughters
Chapter Text
Of course, even with Daenerys killing the Great Khals Ghidorah ended up devouring nearly a thousand various Dothraki in the following days before she left Vaes Dothrak. Those challenging her, those wanting to take Ghidorah from her and those who simply hated her due to being a woman. She let her son kill them all.
Daenerys knew to keep authority over the Dothraki she would need an iron grip upon them and the horsemen respected strength and blood. As dragons they would grant their wish, even as Daenerys went through the slow, methodical process of molding them to her needs.
The first would be to break the slavery of the horsepeople. Difficult, she knew, but she spoke it with the same terms she had given the slave masters; adapt or die. And some chose to die, in lightning and fangs, but most chose to accept her demands. She spoke at large how any taken by a Dothraki raid and bound with a collar was now free. Since she now controlled the Dothraki, they could pass through the sea unmolested and many scores fled within the same day of her allowing them their freedom and promising them no harm. Some tried to convince her otherwise, not wanting a favoured slave freed or their wives to flee back to their homes, but Daenerys refused every request and gave them fire and blood if they attempted to push her further.
It helped when the Dothraki considered themselves now part of a dragon's horde; for many, Daenerys now had them all as her khalasar and a Khal could demand anything of a member of his herd. For the Dothraki, in their way, saw Daenerys' demand as that she owned them all and thus they all belonged to her; by that authority, they could not own a slave within the khalasar for to do so would be ignoring her ownership of that person.
It left her dissatisfied but Daenerys chose to accept that way if it meant she could kill less of them. Though even when Ghidorah glutting himself it did not even make the slightest dent in their numbers.
She then gave orders for them to prepare the immense khalasar to head westward, across the Dothraki sea and towards Qohor, Volantis.
Daenerys did not feel she would have to assault the more northern cities of Essos; the likes of the Lorath chose to ally themselves with the city of Braavos during the Daughter's War and the Ibbenese far to the north kept to their island and sea. As far as she was aware, they were not slaver cities and were quite isolated and independent.
Ghidorah could out-fly anything, and horses were swift but nothing close to a dragon. It would take time for her immense khalasar to cross the Dothraki sea and by then she would have returned to Meereen and mustered her own forces forth. For she had spent long enough securing the east and now it was time to begin the march west and ripping slavery out of Essos for good.
Logistics was not much for Dothraki; she simply gave the orders to head to those cities and the khalasar immediately began their preparations to leave Vaes Dothrak. The traders as well, selling what they could be packing up their mules and horses and oxen before leaving the great city as it began to birth out legion after legion of horseriders.
While that was happening Daenerys spoke to the Dosh Khaleen; after their great domed building went up in flames they remained in one of the surrounding estates with their dutiful eunuchs.
She was not surprised when most chose to stay, including Ornella. While she was thankful to the girl for trusting her, Daenerys also knew she had no desire for war. She had seen enough of it in her young life and Daenerys could not blame her for choosing a quiet existence. It was something she herself occasionally yearned for. Still, for her thanks, Daenerys gave the fellow Khalessi one of Ghidorah's shed teeth. Much like a sharks, he would lose many and grow them just as fast, and this one was longer than her index finger.
And many of the other Dosh Khaleen had nothing left for them; taken as trophies, as slaves, as bedwarmers, with no family or village left standing and nothing familar to return to. Children and kin all dead, husbands long turned to ash. They had nowhere to go and were content to stay within Vaes Dothrak. As did many freshly freed slaves, lingering within the dust of the immense khalasar as it began to spill forth back into the Dothraki sea.
To her surprise the oldest of the Dosh Khaleen, asked to accompany Daenerys, to offer her wisdom and counsel as she continued her campaign west. Liqera, who had been a Dosh Khaleen long before Daenerys was even born, wished to see the world and how much had changed. Daenerys accepted, but stated she would need to find her way to Meereen for Ghidorah would allow none other upon her back besides his mother. The old woman did not fear death, long since lived, and easily accepted before she strode from the manse and disappeared into the throng outside and completely ignoring the disapproving looks some of the other crones had thrown at her.
So be it, Daenerys was there to open the door but she wouldn't drag them out. They must make the choice to use their freedom as they see fit, and for those who spent years in chains a simple choice can be daunting.
Still, she had to hasten back to Meereen. The flight would not be as strenuous as their harried flight to Braavos, but she would have to send troops forth to coordinate with the Dothraki- difficult enough with a horde but having the immense khalasar grouped around a single city would be too much pressure upon resources. There was also the fact she would need to begin mobilizing her people in Meereen, as she had spent too long in the harpy's city. The blood was dry, foundation new yet sturdy. It was time to move even if she had to resist the urge to lingering over the Dothraki like a vulture. It would take them time, weeks, months even, to reach the cities she ordered them towards and she could just simply pluck and moan when she had to return to Meereen.
Ghidorah had grown well enough his great wings carried her even swifter, and when they returned to Meereen after their departure to Old Valyria it was with a great tempest at their back.
The storm had swelled and pulsed, wind whipping the grasses below until it rippled and shimmered like the green of the ocean even as thick rain quickly chased after. The clouds were black, swiftly blotting out the evening sun when Ghidorah's great golden form reached the city.
No sooner had they landed upon the Great Pyramid of Meereen and Daenerys crawled down onto her balcony, did Kinvara seize a hold of her to strip off her armour and then bustle her off to a bath waiting in her chambers, the tub filled with warm elephants milk and various herbs that made Daenerys feel like she was being stewed for dinner. As Kinvara scrubbed at her limbs, scented candles ringing the tub, Missandei and Barristan appeared.
As swiftly as Daenerys could- especially with Kinvara still tossing herbs at her and dousing her hair in odd smelling potions to ward off any lingering bad humours -she explained everything she had gone through. Old Valyria and all the awful things within, her inspecting of New Ghis and its ruins, Qarth now fully tamed and then her killing the Great Khals during the Khalar Vezhven. How the horselords were now her horde and her orders of surging west.
She then issued orders for Daario and his sellswords to begin preparations to meet with the hordes and act through them as her. She could trust in his abilities to slay any who rebuked it, especially when Missandei told her the scouring of the dead cities of Tolos and Mantarys had been successful, with their remains stripped bare and wealth returned to Meereen.
By the time Daenerys had finished explaining, Kinvara had finished scrubbing Daenerys down as if she had been a particularly stubborn stain and declared her free of any lingering ill magic. Daenerys clambered out of the tub, letting Missandei towel her dry even as Kinvara continued to inspect the four narrow cuts upon her face even as Ser Barristan politely kept his back to her nude form.
"I fear these will not heal, not like a wound from a normal blade," the priestess warned.
"If they're all I'll carry after leaving that hellish place than I shall not complain," Daenerys replied, as Missandei helped her into a silk robe.
Daenerys then unpacked her various treasures from Ghidorah's saddlebags; the book about breads and the tale of the dragon queen. The medical texts with their incredibly detailed drawings of the human body and information about infections and sicknesses, the best ways to fight the maladies and ways of binding, stitching, and sealing wounds with recipes for poultices and spells, various drugs and tonics. The pencils and glasses from the Hall of Heroes, the odd spinning device with its glass face and needle. The book about the printing press.
As she expected, Missandei was deeply fascinated by the book about the printing press and the scribe said she would take it to the smiths the following morning to see how they could to begin to reconstruct one. Missandei also said that when they headed west, Qohor was a city famous for its blacksmiths- and the only city left in the known world which can rework Valyrian steel -they could refine their designs if the smiths and mechanics at Meereen could produce a prototype.
The other smaller tokens she placed at one of the tables within her chambers; the chicken-sized dragon egg, the shard of glittering warm black rock, the tiny pendent with a sleeping dragon curled within, the wyrm carved from jade. The Valyrian dagger from the farmstead, which she promptly gifted Missandei.
The Child's Heart.
The last she placed within a jewelry box, putting aside the silver necklace within. Kinvara was deeply interested with the small amber orb, and she confirmed Lernaea's own words that it was pure earthen magic. Ser Barristan was also fascinated with it, especially when Daenerys explained more about the Child and how they had been kin to the Children of the Forest.
He was also the one to answer her confusion about the Lich King, when all four had been seated around one of her small tables as Daenerys switched between eating pieces of fragment cheese and deep purple grapes and telling them in sharper detail of her journey in Valyria.
"Those are the words of the Iron Islands, Your Grace," Ser Barristan told her with a solemn look to his weathered features. "I follow the Seven, but I know King Aenys gave Lord Goren leave to expel the septons and septas from the Iron Islands after he crushed a rebellion there and King Aenys offered him any boon within his power to give. It was an unpopular decision from an unpopular king. Yet because of that the Iron Islands followed their faith, that of the Drowned God whom they worship and the Storm God whom they loathe. I do not know the specifics of their beliefs, but I know the term 'what is dead may never die but come back stronger and harder' is from the Iron Islands even if I know nothing else of their drowned men."
"Then how was it found within this Citadel, deep within Old Valyria?" Missandei asked while Kinvara looked curious. Daenerys ate another wedge of cheese.
"Some say the Ironborn descend from the First Men, far before Old Valyria had its fire and dragons but I say what we know of Valyria is far less than that," Ser Barristan said. His armour was as white and polished as ever, the candlelight giving it a golden gleam. "Perhaps this...Lich King knew of the practice in his readings? Or a word he clung to, when all else was lost."
"Or perhaps everyone regardless of their place can still find themselves in the same darkness if they refuse to follow the light," Kinvara finally spoke, fingers templed together. "The Ironborn worship a heathen god, that of the ocean which grows so deep light and heat cannot penetrate it. Down in these depths monster and malformed beasts live. Ones that should not be witnessed. The Lord of Light is the only true path."
"Some would say that of the red faith, that is of heathens," Barristan said, an edge coming into his voice.
Kinvara arched a sharp brow to Ser Barristan, "There are no gods but R'hllor and the Other, whose true name may not be said. The Drowned God is a thrall to the Other, to drag the dead to the darkness of the deep. The Seven are just broken shards and the Old Gods are empty trees filled with the hollow voices of the dead. The Lord of Light is the one true god."
"Aethaer was there within Old Valyria," Daenerys said, eyes growing unfocused upon the grape between her fingers. "With his head of fire pulled from the core of the world. It showed me death so many times, within the colourful flames. Goddess of Life and God of Destruction."
Daenerys ate the grape. Its skin burst easily between her teeth, the flesh wet and sweet.
Swallowing that down, she fixed her violet gaze upon Kinvara, "I have many people, many children, of many different faiths following me. I will not spite those who think or believe differently from myself. Nor will I give them as sacrifices."
Kinvara blinked once, "As you command, my queen. You have already purified many, your child burning their sins and flesh away. There is no need for sacrifices, not from you, for your heavenly husband adores you most. You need not worry. He will be with us, when the Long Night comes."
"Worried," Daenerys mused, tilting her head to the side. The damp strands of silvery hair tickled her neck, her collarbone.
She got up and went to her bed, rummaging through the collection of books there before taking one of her journals. This one was for her conversation with the Child, the notes she had kept well apace of. Daenerys returned to the table, mutely sliding it over. Kinvara and Missandei read it, due to sitting side by side, but Ser Barristan seemed content to let them even as Daenerys ate more grapes. Above Ghidorah was looking over Meereen. He was getting large enough his tails were dangling over the edge of the Great Pyramid.
Outside the raging storm had quieted, rain now a soft patter and wind barely more than a moan even if it remained dark beyond her balcony. Night had fully fallen.
Missandei's golden eyes seemed to glow in the candlelight, the soft gold dusting to her lips and upper eyelids shimmering just the same. But Kinvara's dark green eyes were tense, dancing with an odd glint. Both finished reading.
And for the first time Kinvara looked unsettled- no, the woman looked afraid.
Her breathing was deep, making the deep red stone at her throat shift, before the priestess spoke in slow, cautious tones, "And the Child confirmed this? That the Great Other has a physical form, with the White Walkers?"
"Yes," Daenerys said, not missing how tendons were standing out upon the woman's hands with how tightly she was gripping the table. "The Child told me the Great Other had a presence, not just a whisper or visions, but rather it was truly with its undying children beyond the Wall."
"This is grievous news indeed," Kinvara near hissed the words, the candles closest to her flaring slightly. "If I may be excused, I will have to contact my fellows at once. This news must be passed forth, it is imperative."
"Of course."
The woman barely waited long enough to rise and curtsy before she was gone, the candles wavering with her exit. Ser Barristan looked similarly disturbed by news, brow furrowed when Missandei slid the journal over to him.
"I am not quite fond of the idea of gods truly stepping between us," the old knight said. "They are for whispers and faintest of touches, they should not be marching to war."
"Perhaps that is what caused the previous Long Night," Missandei suggested, "That the Great Other had taken physical form when none other had done so. And now it has been thousand of years since it was defeated, did it take that long to gather the strength to manifest yet again?"
"We may never known the cause but we are less blind than before," Daenerys said. "But if it was defeated once before than it can be done again."
The rest of their conversation was tentative, and she could tell Ser Barristan was just as uneasy as Kinvara had been with the news of the Great Other's physical presence when he finished reading her notes. Still, the knight eventually let the two women be when the candles had burned low within their bubbled wax and then it was just Daenerys and Missandei picking at the last of the grapes and cheese.
It was then Daenerys confessed her failure to save the dragon eggs, and Missandei spoke of seeing the immense storm of stars in the sky. How they fell so long and fast many believed the sky itself was falling.
"You may have not saved the eggs, but surely they exist elsewhere," Missandei's touch was gentle upon her wrist. "Even within Westeros, even if they are lost they could still be found."
"I found many other things that could be precious but lost the eggs, it still aches," Daenerys said glumly, but squeezed Missandei's hand.
"And the dragon woman said dragons can lay eggs upon their own will, without need for a mate. Perhaps your son shall give you grandchildren."
"It could be so."
The conversation shifted, as Daenerys still felt deep grief over the death of the eggs and it changed back to ruminating upon the forgotten Child that had endured within the Valyrian mines. How long it had been imprisoned there, all the hatred and misery within that warm golden room. The monster just outside, even her vision of Godsgrief. Then her promise to the Child, slicing off its head and pulling the small amber orb free of its throat. Missandei she allowed to touch the Heart, and the scribe seemed just as enthralled by the soft glow, the gentle beat and small seed held within.
When the Naathi passed it back to her, she said, "Perhaps who the Child says you must take its Heart to is Brynden Rivers."
Daenerys gave her a look of bafflement, "Who?"
"Bloodraven, one of the Great Bastards of Aegon the Unworthy. He was banished to the Wall after murdering Aenys Blackfyre during the Great Council after Maekar Targaryen's death. He was voted as Lord Commander of the Night's Watch many decades ago but disappeared while ranging beyond the Wall."
"So why is he mentioned now? He should be long dead," Daenerys said.
"He is a greenseer," Missandei said. "Quaithe came to me, while you were gone. She asked me many strange things about him. How many eyes does Lord Bloodraven have? A thousand eyes, and one. Packs of gaunt gray wolves, carrion crows and bleeding trees. But beyond the Wall he is entrenched somewhere. Perhaps that is who you must seek, who will know of any Children beyond the Wall."
"How would Quaithe know such a thing?"
"She simply said she had to tell me what she knew, even if she did not know the reason for it," Missandei said.
Daenerys conceded to that, the shadowbinder had said as much when giving Daenerys cryptic words. It was if Quaithe had simply been the messenger, not knowing the source or the reason for the words and only knowing that she must utter them.
"And he would be around Aemon Targaryen's age," Missandei added, "For he was with Aemon when they both went to the Wall."
More thoughts and theories and they debated them as such, before their conversation shifted to logistics. The encroaching Long Night was certainly something to prepare for but they still had to tame the rest of the slaver cities in Essos.
Missandei suggested, with ruthless pragmatism, that Daenerys use the Dothraki as her frontal force when attacking the remaining slaver cities across Essos. Both due to the Dothraki being competent fighters but also to use them as the sacrificial bulk and keep the superior Unsullied in reserve. It would also be a means to cut down upon food and resource consumption; the Dothraki had their horses to feed as well, and were prone to exuberant feasting while the Unsullied were heavily disciplined.
"The Unsullied are loyal to you due to you freeing them," Missandei counseled. "While the Dothraki are opportunistic and will kill you if the choice comes and you stumble."
Daenerys knew that all too well- her three bloodriders would be loyal to her, and she knew her personal khalasar would never betray her, but the horde at large held the typical loyalty of Dothraki. If she fell they would fight and take their own portions of the immense khalasar, would try and steal Ghidorah and enslave her people once again.
The fallen horses of the Dothraki could also be used to make jerky and salted meats, preserves for when the Long Night spread across the land.
Daenerys agreed.
By then she was yawning and let Missandei chase her to bed, even as the scribe left with her arms filled with the printing press book, glasses and pencils to give to the engineers within Meereen so they could then make their own.
Daenerys' sleep was deep and easy, and when she woke there was still much to do.
The first was to check over the state of Meereen and to her pleasure it was working well, with no more knives in the dark even with her absence and much rebuilding was well underway. The fields beyond were green and flourishing, and the people were recovering well and true. But she would keep vigilant.
After Daenerys had breakfast she took several audiences to reassure her people she had returned, as well as confirm the news of the destroyed slaver cities and New Ghis itself. None questioned how her absence had gone for over a month, and many were intrigue when she told them of how she had killed the Great Khals. Much of the week went the same, Daenerys beginning preparations to march west even as she spoke to Daario about her orders for him and his sellswords. One of the largest issues was the lack of ships, as she did not want her people to cross the demon roads above Old Valyria but Daario and his group would cross northward. Still, ships would have to be built even with so much of the master's fleet being taken for their own.
There was also the idea of creating more storage for food- preserves and salted meat, the sooner they began preparations for the Long Night the better. Daenerys also wrote letters to send to Qohor and Norvos and Lys, Myr and Tyrosh demanding their immediate removal from the slave trade. Perhaps she was being optimistic they would listen, but she would give them the option to peacefully withdraw before she gave them fire and blood. Only time would tell if they would heed her warning.
She then spent some hours with Grey Worm and the other Unsullied officers, discussing their training and preparations to move forward from Meereen. She also offered any Unsullied the choice to leave, if they wished to stay in Meereen. Only a handful accepted but Daenerys was still pleased. She was also told about the Unsullied in-training were coming along well, as Grey Worm reported to her. Then she met with the Mother's Men and Free Brothers and spoke to them of her plans to head east. Unlike with Qarth, Meereen had the Brazen Beasts under Skahaz mo Kandaq's eye to keep the peace in her absence so she was free to take those two companies of freemen with her. The shavepate was also another she conversed heavily with, even if his report was much the same as the others.
After the end of her first week back in Meereen, Missandei came bearing news of their progress in understanding the things Daenerys had taken from Old Valyria.
"A 'compass' they decided to call it," Missandei said, offering the small object to Daenerys as she ate her supper. The small hand-held object with its glass face and spinning needle. "They discovered it uses a spinning metal needle and two poles. Thus it always points north. That will work well for stormy and dark weather, when the sun and stars cannot be used to track."
The pencils were easier, strips of fine wood glued together with a lead stick within. Cut sharp with a knife, without the worry of a spill. The glasses are almost like how a far-eye function, but they say the lenses are different. Concave, convex and cylindrical. They have gotten several volunteers with poor eyesight and each glass works different depending upon how the vision has been fading. It will take some time for the glass-makers to mimic how it is done but they are confident they can do so."
Daenerys nodded along, pleased with the curiosity and determination of her children.
"But the printing press will take much more time," Missandei finished. "However the engineers are already drafting designs on how to begin and conversing with blacksmiths."
"Good," Daenerys said. "And I will want the first book to be about the construction of the printing press itself. I will not be as Oldtown and the maesters, hording their knowledge. This will be given freely, I will even send the first copy to the Sealord of Braavos as a gift. And I must message him of my increasing campaign, if he wishes to lend aid."
Kinvara she barely saw after the discussion upon the night she returned, but Daenerys allowed the woman her privacy. The news of the Great Other was distressing indeed and she still had Benerro's letter. Perhaps the high priest would know more, as Volantis would be their first target heading westward.
A stand was introduced to her room, to hold her Valyrian armour when she was not wearing it. Ser Barristan was very much fascinated by her armour and she found it rather amusing how the old knight seemed like an excited child with a new toy when she allowed him to inspect and caress it.
"A perfect set," he had said, when Blackfyre had been added with its gleaming scabbard.
A cloak was also made for her armour; thick rich red like freshly spilled blood with tiny dragons embroidered all along the hem in continuous flight.
Daenerys also changed her simple black audience bench for her own custom made one; simple with a plain velvet cushion and a raised back no taller than her shoulders, no more menacing or imposing than any chair. But her one was made from shackles and chains welded together, with collars looping around the legs and threaded and weaved across the back in a macabre display. The chair was heavy from the metal and chains and iron but still easily moved.
Missandei gave her old slave collar to Daenerys to use for her chair, her one of old worn leather with a silver loop for a chain at the front. Daenerys added her own collar to it, a heavy golden torc at back of the chair. It may have been years, but she still remembered being told Khal Drogo was so rich his slaves wore gold collars and Daenerys had been fitted with one when her brother sold her to the horselord.
She had not forgotten what it had been like to be afraid, so helpless. To be surrounded by the uncaring.
Her new throne would show that, and the reason she fought. The reason for her strength.
Still, she went to sleep that night feeling melancholic.
It was the following morn that Daenerys had barely awoke when Missandei was at her bedside, bearing news of a fleet of ships just within Dragon's Bay. The flagship was ahead, nearing Meereen and bearing a message of alliance and respectfully requesting a meeting.
Daenerys was rather skeptical, considering what happened the last time she encountered a Greyjoy fleet, but was willing to answer the captain's requests especially with Ghidorah keeping close watch upon the small fleet but not yet bothering to take flight. Before afternoon had fallen the ship approached Meereen's docks, a vessel with a dark gleaming hull and golden sails emblazoned with the black kraken of House Greyjoy with the name Lady's Blade scrawled upon the stem. The figurehead was carved from black iron in the form of a naked maiden grasping a sword in both hands. Her long flowing hair was carved in the likeness of tentacles, and her eyes were mother-of-pearl.
Daenerys awaited in the yawning audience chamber within the Great Pyramid of Meereen upon her chair of collars and shackles with Ser Barristan upon her left and Missandei at her right. Tall candles burned amongst the marble pillars even as narrow beams of sunlight streamed through the thin windows and spilled across the stone floor.
The captain who greeted her was a tall lean woman, with dark brown hair and dark grey eyes. Her face was lined despite her youth, evidence of weeks, months, of years at the open sea below the sweltering sun and salt spray. She was wearing clothes of various fabrics, mostly seal skin and weather-worn leather. Her jerkin was covered in overlapping plates of steel like fish scales, and she wore high leather boots stained in salt. Strapped to a broad hip was a long sword and there was a dirk bound to the side of her boot. Stitched at her breast was a golden kraken upon pitch black.
"So you have come asking for an alliance."
"Yes, Your Grace."
"You've brought me ships from the iron fleet with men to sail them. And in return I presume you wish for my support for your claim to the salt throne?" Daenerys asked.
"Not for me," The woman, Yara, replied while lifting up her chin. "My older sister, Asha Greyjoy. Her claim."
"Why not you?"
"For one, my sister is far more diplomatic than myself. And another is that I'm a bastard. I'm a Pyke," Yara explained. "Though Balon raised me as his daughter alongside Asha, regardless of our differing mothers, and she's my sister all the same. But she has the name and motivation to being queen of the Iron Islands. I lack the tact for such a position but she has trusted me as an envoy for you."
"So why is Asha Greyjoy herself not here to meet with me?" Daenerys asked, arching a pale brow.
"Our uncle Euron returned home after years at sea," Yara said, rolling back slightly on her heels. "He killed our father, Balon Greyjoy, and then stole the salt throne from Asha. He was also the one who sent my uncle Victarion on his fool's quest here. After the kingsmoot, Asha gave me orders to take the ships we had stolen and sail to you while she headed to Deepwood Motte, and to try and hear further news of our little brother. The fool got himself captured after the War of the Five Kings. He's a stupid little boy but he's our brother. She is a better tracker than I am, so I sailed across the Summer Sea while she remained in Westeros to keep an eye upon things and do as she will. But I have a sealed letter to you from her, reiterating my own words in her ink if need be, Your Grace."
"The Iron Islands would support a kinslayer over a woman?"
Yara scowled, the weathered lines of her face becoming deeper, "They say a sudden storm and a broken rope had sent Balon Greyjoy to his death. The Drowned God plays savage japes upon us all, but men are crueler still. Myself and Asha thought it a grand happenstance our father died shortly before our long absent uncle Euron appeared and then quickly swayed everyone to his side when the kingsmoot occured. My goodmother-" Yara faltered slightly, looking embarrassed for the first time before quickly righting herself. "-My sister's mother, Lady Alannys, was certain in his assassination. For all my father's failings, he was a Greyjoy through and through. He would not be thrown aside by a storm, we're born with sea legs and salt in our veins. It will take more than that to knock us to the ground. Euron killed him, I know it. Three years away he was and yet the Crow's Eye returns the very day my father dies. We both agreed it was poor news, even moreso when Euron won the kingsmoot."
"So in exchange with your alliance and ships, you want my aid in killing Euron Greyjoy and endorsing your sister as queen of the Iron Islands?"
"Yes."
Missandei leaned down to reach her ear, bushy black curls obscuring her lips as she whispered softly to Daenerys.
"My scribe has informed me that your brother was responsible for sacking Winterfell and killing the youngest Stark children, one of which was barely more than a toddler," Daenerys said, expression growing flinty as she focused back on Yara. "Why should I trust child-killers to be worthy allies? I have slaughtered the slave masters for doing much the same and you and your kin seem insistent upon aiding him."
"Terrible things happen in war, Your Grace," Yara said slowly. "I cannot speak for my brother's actions as I was not there and I do not know how he has fared since. But I do know Winterfell is back in the hands of the Boltons, Northern men."
"Indeed, war is terrible and the actions of men within it more terrible still. Yet I fail to understand how a boy barely more than a baby could be of any threat. Surely a Stark child would be better as a hostage?"
"Your Grace," Yara's voice remained calm but her eyes were just as stern. "His sacking of Winterfell was due to the stupidity of our father. He encouraged such a thing, ordered it, and my brother was fool enough to obey. He had been kept with the wolves for too long and forgot the sea and thus was lost to us even when we tried to urge him home. Cruelty for cruelty sake is stupid and unnecessary."
"Balon Greyjoy was a vindictive fool," Ser Barristan spoke then. "His invasion of the North was a failure before it even began."
"Aye, I agree," Yara said immediately. "He was acting over a petty grudge due loosing to Eddard Stark back during Robert's Rebellion. Robb Stark gave my father generous terms of an alliance, for Balon's support in the war. He pissed it all away to do petty raids and a burnt castle we couldn't- wouldn't -hold and then we were sent back to the Iron Islands with a bloodied nose per usual. My sister is seeking to change that, to change the history of our people."
Daenerys spoke, "From what I heard, Balon Greyjoy was a terrible king."
"We have that in common."
"...True. Yet the Iron Islands are well known for their raiding and reaving and raping. Tis all they are known for, to be blunt."
"My sister advocates for peace or at the very least cohabitation," Yara said. "In all our rebellions all we've received in return is dead family and a barren island to go skulking back to lick our wounds. Same with the War of the Five Kings, we have won nothing out of it. Nothing but fathers and sons left for dead while we scamper back to the sea. But even before that, since Aegon the Conqueror's time, we've been raiders. Pathetic bandits plucking at the coast and failing each and every time to do any better for ourselves. So as part of this, to put an end to it all, we ask that you give us land. There is nothing to cultivate on the Iron Islands- they live up to their names. It is why being raiders is our way of life. Asha seeks to change that, if she is granted queen of the Iron Islands with your support. She offers them a chance for land, peace and victory."
"Is not your House words 'We do not sow'?" Daenerys asked.
Yara met her gaze without a flinch, "We adapt or die. And we're getting too good at that last one. That is why we need your support, you have the strength to help force any who refuse to accept her rule and wooden ships are notoriously bad at surviving dragonfire. I have twenty to offer, with men to crew them, as a sign of good faith and ally-ship for my sister and House."
Daenerys twitched a finger and Missande was again at her ear as she asked softly, "Will that be enough ships?"
"Combined with the Masters fleets and those being rebuilt, yes. But most likely we will have to make additional trips if we wish to avoid the demon roads and bring ample supplies for siege. But there are far more than twenty vessels within the Iron fleet."
Daenerys frowned slightly at the information but nodded as she looked back to Yara, "There's more than a hundred ships in the Iron fleet, isn't there? And even the ones I destroyed when Victarion Greyjoy attacked Meereen would not make up the majority missing, even with the addition of your own numbers."
"Yes, my uncle Euron controls the majority of the Iron fleet. And he would have sought alliance to you."
"So why shouldn't I wait for him to approach me?" Daenerys asked.
Yara's smile was thin and mirthless, "His alliance would come with a marriage offer- you would not get one without the other. That is why he sent that fool Victarion to you, as a means of passing along his words and proposal. And to use that horn."
"You know of that thing?"
"Dragonbinder," Yara sniffed. "He used it at the kingsmoot to gather support, some fuc- some monstrous thing he claimed he took from Old Valyria.."
Her purple eyes sharpened even as a shiver danced up her spine, "Old Valyria?"
"I don't know how viable his claim is, Euron is mad but he's far more charming about it than Balon or Aeron are about it so those fools listened to him when he claimed to take Westeros with dragons. Your dragon. That was the purpose of the horn, the promise he had made, and they were all stupid enough to believe it. That he could take Westeros with dragons, because he would steal yours."
Daenerys' inhale was sharp. That horn, she had been knocked unconscious by that hellish thing and even Ghidorah had felt it fume through his blood before he rebuked it in furious wrath. But it had been vicious and volatile. She could believe it had indeed come from Old Valyria.
"Why would the Ironborn even listen to such a claim?" she said coldly.
"They're desperate and bloodhungry," Yara drawled. "Easily fooled by pretty promises and unnatural trinkets and have followed the Crow's Eye to attack Oldtown and the Reach. But not all of them were drawn in by flowery, empty words. I have my crew, my ships, following me and I follow Asha, the Queen of the Salt Throne. As do many others, who have followed me across the Summer Sea to you at our queen's behest."
"Bring me your sister's letter, Captain Yara."
Ser Barristan took it from the woman, giving the folded letter to Daenerys and letting her read it over. Much as Yara claimed, it reiterated the terms for an alliance; the Greyjoy support through their ships and naval power, in exchange Daenerys support Asha Greyjoy as the Queen of Salt and Rock. There was also the request for land from the North, for Sea Dragon Point and the Stony Shore, to help wean the Iron Islands from their raiding ways, their Old Way. It was signed at the bottom, with a stamp of the curling kraken of House Greyjoy next to Asha's sign.
"It seems your sister and I have a common goal," Daenerys said, violet gaze flicking up from the parchment to Yara. "That we plan to leave the world in a better place than when we found it, than how our fathers left it. But do you know of the Golden Company within Westeros? They claim to have Aegon the Sixth with them. Perhaps he will be king, when I reach Westeros."
"I've heard of those tales in the ports," Yara admitted. "But he doesn't have a dragon. And if I offer this alliance, I also hope it will come with your endorsement towards the Iron Throne even if there is a king. You have a dragon beyond all else. He will be a Targaryen perhaps, and I would ask for you to plea on our behalf for Asha's endorsement if you chose not to fight or if you chose to marry him. Or the terms as if, if you fight."
"Reasonable terms."
Looking back down at the letter, she thought over the terms. They were fair and the Iron Islands had been a nuisance for as long as they had existed. They were the Dothraki at sea, in their way. Constantly roaming and fighting, raiding and raping. She would not tolerate it and could not understand why Aegon the Conqueror had nor the dragonriders afterwards.
"I had vague thoughts about what I would do to the Iron Islands," Daenerys mused, as she lowered the letter to her lap. Her gaze was focused on the candles to Yara's side, the flickering flames. "Only some crude contemplation of what I would do to subdued each kingdom when I returned to Westeros. But after I burned the Great Khals to death and killed more to make them understand I know what I would done, if Asha Greyjoy had not offered reasonable terms to try and change the ways of her people."
The silence was long and lingering until Yara shifted uneasily when it became apparent Daenerys wanted a response. "And what would you have done, Your Grace?"
"I would have destroyed the Iron Islands," she answered bluntly. "I would have banished all your people from those isles, have you land within the westerlands and then destroyed every one of your ships and made you learn to sow the fields and live as any folk who don't butcher and raid. And while you had been learning that, myself and my son would have razed every inch of the Iron Islands. Blacktyde, Great Wyk, Orkmont. The castle Pyke would have been burst and stripped, thrown back into the sea. My child is Stormborn, and your people fear the Storm God, do they not? My son can create storms with his wings, and breathes lightning. He would have been the end for your people and their Old Ways."
Yara stared at her, features giving nothing away. Distantly Daenerys could feel Ghidorah shifting high above as he prepared to take flight. One of the candles guttered, flame spluttering before vanishing into a thin trail of smoke.
"Not that it matters now, of course," Daenerys folded up the letter. "I will accept your terms, Yara of the Iron Islands. I will endorse your sister as queen of the salt throne, as long as she proves her word true, and support her cause. I will also ask upon her behalf if there is another upon the Iron Throne for your people and the wish for land. And I will kill this Euron Greyjoy if he is still alive when I reach Westeros. And in turn you will give me your ships."
A line of tension eased from Yara's frame and she bowed to Daenerys, "Thank you, Your Grace. My sister's word is true and I gladly accept upon her behalf."
"Good," Daenerys smiled for the first time since the audience began. "Now, we do still have some of Victarian Greyjoy's men held in the cells within the Pyramid. Perhaps you can spend the afternoon with them, and learn more about your uncle and his plans. And then we can have supper this evening together I think, to speak of the details. I for one am curious about your Drowned God."
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