Drogon glanced at Shireen, signaling for her to open the bundle. He then bit out a cotton jacket and nudged it towards her.
Shireen obediently put on the thick coat, wrapping herself tightly until only her small face was visible.
*No wonder Drogon told me to wear warm clothes last night,* she thought happily. *He's going to take me flying!*
Seeing that Shireen was settled, Drogon pushed off the ground with a powerful kick. He flapped his wings once and soared into the air without needing to run.
Shireen's face turned pale with tension. She clung tightly to the spikes on Drogon's neck, pressing herself flat against the dragon's back, too afraid to move. Only when Drogon reached a high altitude and began gliding smoothly did she dare to slowly open her eyes.
From high above, she gazed down at the sea and up at the azure sky. Shireen felt as if she had become a small bird soaring through the air, living the free life she had always dreamed of.
The burly man who had rowed away in his small boat grew worried about Shireen. He glanced back at the desolate beach, but couldn't see her. Instead, he saw a massive figure soaring through the sky, so terrifying that he nearly lost his balance and fell into the sea.
*What is that? How can it be so huge?* The sight reminded him of legends of Giant Dragons. *No wonder the overseer left the girl on the beach,* his dull mind reasoned. *A Giant Dragon was coming to take her away.*
Drogon chose not to take Shireen from Dragonstone to avoid being seen by the Red Woman or others. Instead, he had Varys arrange for her to be transported to the sparsely populated Tidehead Island, where she could take flight.
Carrying Shireen, Drogon flew at a moderate pace, taking two hours to reach the skies above Pentos. He landed on a remote stretch of coast far from the docks, awaiting the arrival of Varys's arranged reception party.
When Drogon set Shireen down, she seemed reluctant to part. She had truly loved the feeling of soaring through the sky.
Though the remote coast was sparsely populated, Drogon was still spotted. He paid it little mind. With the Dragon Mother's power now established and the nobles of the Seven Kingdoms preoccupied with their civil war, none would be foolish enough to travel thousands of miles to trouble him. Even if a reckless soul did appear, he wouldn't worry.
After shrinking to a smaller size, Drogon shared a meal with Shireen. The Pentos reception boat arrived swiftly. After confirming their identities, Shireen boarded the boat, and Drogon continued to follow from above.
Once ashore, Shireen was settled into a small courtyard with a maid attending to her. Only when he saw she was fully settled did Drogon depart, flying back to Yunkai.
This was his longest absence and his most prolonged hunger. He feasted in the grasslands before returning to Yunkai.
When Drogon didn't find the Dragon Mother at her residence, he flew to the Council Chamber, where she was indeed present. As soon as he entered, Drogon sensed an unusual tension in the air.
Having not seen Drogon for two days, the Dragon Mother's slight frown quickly smoothed. She extended her hand, signaling him to fly closer. Drogon obliged, landing on her hand as she wished. She gently stroked his back and nuzzled his head against her cheek before placing him on her shoulder.
Perched quietly on her shoulder, Drogon listened for a while before understanding what was happening.
Varys's little birds had delivered new intelligence: in Astapor, a butcher named Cleon was rallying the residents to overthrow the Council of Three that Daenerys had left behind. He was enslaving the families of the Good Masters, castrating their sons, and training new Unsullied.
Beyond Astapor, Yunkai was also unstable. Though the Wise Masters had been captured, their subordinates were spreading rumors everywhere.
They claimed Daenerys was preparing to unite all the islands surrounding Essos, Slaver's Bay, the Bay of Grief, and the Land of the Long Summer. They also said she would abolish slavery and kill all the slave owners.
They had already contacted the leaders of New Ghis and Old Ghis to form an alliance against Daenerys.
Drogon had long anticipated trouble in Astapor, but he hadn't expected it to erupt so soon.
How could a city that had maintained slavery for over a thousand years secure its rule by merely killing a few slave owners, leaving no garrison, and appointing three powerless councilors?
Yet there was no alternative. The Dragon Mother could only trust Jorah and Barristan among her advisors, neither of whom could remain in Astapor. The newly acquired Unsullied could not be stationed there either.
The Dragon Mother's actions—burning the Good Masters in Astapor to liberate the Unsullied and all slaves, capturing the Wise Master in Yunkai and freeing another two hundred thousand slaves, and now planning to attack Meereen—had naturally alarmed the other city-state leaders, who were now scrambling for solutions.
Slaves were the lifeblood of the slave owners' wealth, the foundation of their power and opulent lifestyles. With the Dragon Mother threatening to cut off their income and imprison or kill them, it was no wonder they fought desperately.
After consulting with her advisors, the Dragon Mother decided to postpone the attack on Meereen. First, they would quell the Butcher's rebellion in Astapor. Varys's little birds would closely monitor Yunkai and other cities, reporting any developments to Daenerys immediately.
Daenerys would remain in Yunkai, while Jorah and Grey Worm would lead three thousand Unsullied to Astapor to suppress the Butcher's rebellion.
After capturing Yunkai, they had acquired over thirty large ships, just enough to transport the three thousand Unsullied to Astapor by sea.
With the plan finalized, Daenerys leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples as she considered how to govern Astapor after suppressing the rebellion.
She would have to leave some Unsullied behind to maintain order, but she also needed to appoint a trustworthy subordinate with governance experience. Learning from past mistakes, Daenerys began to reflect on her decisions in Astapor.
*Besides mercy, you need blood and fire. A ruler who relies solely on kindness is no true ruler!* Drogon thought, unable to resist commenting as he watched the Dragon Mother's weary expression.
Hearing Drogon's mental voice, Daenerys immediately sat upright, forcing herself not to look at him perched on her shoulder.
*Drogon is right. Perhaps I have been too merciful. I never expected that a butcher who was once a slave would try to enslave the children of the Good Masters, and that most of Astapor's residents would support him.*
*It seems Drogon truly is the reincarnation of the Black Dread Balerion. After living for over two hundred years and serving multiple Targaryen monarchs, how else could he understand the art of rule? The legends say Giant Dragons can inherit memories—it seems they were true!*
"Seize Butcher Cleon and the other rebellion leaders immediately and send them to Yunkai. I will personally sentence them to death. Imprison all other rebels who can be contained. If there are too many, record their names and await punishment."
Daenerys had originally planned to punish only Butcher Cleon, overlooking the other residents he had incited. But upon hearing Drogon's thoughts, she immediately changed her mind.
After Daenerys spoke, Barristan and Jorah nodded and exchanged glances, both seeing relief in each other's eyes.
Drogon hadn't expected Daenerys to suddenly change her decision, but he recognized that this approach would be far more effective as a deterrent.
"Missandei, after suppressing the rebellion, who do you think should manage Astapor in my stead?" Daenerys asked, a glint of cunning in her bright eyes.
Jorah and the others also turned to Missandei. She was the only one present with any administrative knowledge; the others were better suited to wielding swords.
Missandei lowered her head in thought, then looked at the others in the Council Chamber before hesitating. "Your Majesty, it seems you lack suitable personnel for such a task."
Drogon was also considering this problem. Littlefinger Tyrion was the ideal candidate for Hand of the King and couldn't be spared to manage a single city. Even if Varys returned, he would have his own duties.
*If the Dragon Mother could establish a Citadel-like institution in her name, cultivating talented individuals to serve her, why worry about managing Astapor, Slaver's Bay, or even the Seven Kingdoms?* Drogon suddenly thought of the Citadel.
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