The Dragon Queen

Hāre Ampā

The gates of Yunkai opened in the dead of night. The Good Masters were dragged out, screaming, and behind them trailed their wives and children. More surprisingly, every citizen, including the slaves, now stood facing a strange woman with silver eyes and a beaming smile. The Faceless Men bowed to Daenerys as she approached, the sword they had gifted her at her side and the customary daggers strapped to her thigh.

They were happy to serve the woman touched by both the Lord of Death and the Lord of Life, but they also saw other godly blessings in her aura. Yes, they had chosen a worthy person to be loyal to. She took this moment to look over all the people before her, and a thought occurred.

"Nyke Daenerys Jelmāzmo hen lentor Targārien hen Valyrio uēpo ānogār iksan. Tubī nyke tepagon ao aōha freedom daor longer jāhor ao sagon slaves rūsīr collars, nyke kivio bona tubī ao jāhor sagon dāez."

(I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen of the blood of Old Valyria. Today, I give you your freedom. No longer will you be slaves with collars; I promise that today you will be free.)

She would be fair, but not lenient. Slavery was abolished, but employment would still exist. Her voice echoed across the field as many listened and then erupted into cheers, calling her one word—"Muna." Her heart warmed as she smiled and nodded, leading her people inside. She looked at Missandei. "In the morning, instruct them to investigate which masters treated their slaves well, and then find out which masters are willing to pay these people's fair wages to work for them."

The woman nodded at her Queen before Daenerys turned to her husband. Her pregnant belly was now more prominent, but it did not bother her. As she walked closer to the man, she wrapped her arms around him and relaxed. The Faceless Men glanced at Khal Drogo and nodded before slowly approaching.

The chosen spokesman stepped forward, his armour bearing the sigil of House Targaryen. "My Queen, we would like the honour of training your husband and your future children."

Daenerys turned to look at the man, her eyes filled with warmth. "The House of Black and White provided me with the training I needed to survive, and I am indebted to them. It will be my immense honour to have you train my husband and future children."

While she was unaware of it, her humility was one reason many were glad to serve and support her. The Dragon Queen turned to the grinning men, who stood with a solid gold banner. "I trust your men like your new home?" They nodded. "I know you are termed mercenaries and laughed at my brother, but do I have your loyalty?"

The Golden Company was built of exiled men and sons. Money was the price of their loyalty, but Daenerys Targaryen was not mad—she had paid them well to stay out of the conflict. And she was fair. The woman offered them a home and their leaders high positions. She gave them things money could not buy. They turned to their commander, watching as he bent the knee, followed by every man behind him.

"We pledge ourselves to Her Majesty Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Empress of the Bay of Dragons, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons."

Missandei smirked as Daella glanced at Daenerys. "Empress?"

The commander nodded as Daenerys helped him to his feet. "You have conquered Astapor, and it is being rebuilt by those you left behind. You have conquered Yunkai. Once you gain Meereen, you will officially be the ruler of all three. You have installed rulers in each place, but we all bend the knee to you, making you our Empress. 'High Queen' does not suit you."

Drogo nodded in agreement. She was the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea—a Dothraki title. The true Queen of the Andals—a Westerosi title. But 'Empress' was a Valyrian title, one that the Moon of his life deserved. He nodded to the men before gently picking up his wife—it was time for her to rest.

As the camp settled and the Golden Company entered Yunkai, the Dothraki celebrated that night, watching in awe as their Khaleesi's cousin danced. Her movements were precise and quick, like a snake. Many men admired her but kept their distance. The women in Khaleesi's family and inner circle all wielded weapons. One man rose to his feet and approached her. Obara smiled and beckoned him to her side.

Daella watched in amusement. Obara was of Dorne; she had no qualms about sex and seduction. She was having fun, and the Dothraki men loved her. She had only slept with one so far, but she sparred with them and spoke of her father. And the Dothraki loved a good and cunning warrior. They had seen her slit a man's throat for looking at their Khaleesi the wrong way.

Missandei looked on with a soft smile, Grey Worm standing behind her. The two had grown close, though not romantically. Instead, they treated each other like siblings, much to Daenerys's initial disappointment—until she realised that the show seemed to have only paired the two black characters together for representation. So, she had left it be.

The Dragon Queen, as usual, sat between her husband's legs, eating slowly as he laughed with his men. Her head rested against his chest as she smiled at the scene before her. One of the men glanced at the Khaleesi and nodded in approval. At first, he had not liked that a Khal like Drogo had married a foreign woman, but now he was glad.

She had brought back dragons and fought like a true warrior—a fierce Khaleesi who stood by her, Khal, even in battle. The braids in her hair showed that she had won many fights. However, what gained his loyalty and respect was that she never sought to rule over her husband, but rather ruled beside him.

 She made no decisions about their people without his presence and agreement. Instead of seeing them as barbarians, she had taught them the Common Tongue, stressing the importance of understanding their enemies. Instead of ignoring their customs, she adopted them and blended them with her own. Instead of leaving them out of her plans, she sheltered and cared for them, truly seeing them as her own people.

So, when the time came, he would kill the beast that had hurt her family. The Khal could have the others, but he had earned the right to slay the Mountain. The Dothraki were harsh, but they did not kill children.

He watched as the Khaleesi rubbed her belly and let out a soft whistle. Her dragons always stayed within the camp to familiarise themselves with their allies. They were growing very large, something that excited the men, who eagerly anticipated how much bigger they would become. This time, one of the females came to stay at the Khaleesi's side, while the others, as usual, guarded the children.

The Dothraki warrior wondered what might have happened if the Khaleesi had married another. But then he shook his head—no man other than the Khal was worthy of their Khaleesi. However, he was not blind to the looks other men gave her. Perhaps they should take the same approach as the Khaleesi's cousin.