Hand of the Queen

9

I walk to the docks, an Unsullied solider following only a few steps behind me. The old Captain looks up to me with a smile.

"How is it up there, Alysanne?" Edlin asks as I approach.

"That is precisely what I came to speak to you about, Captain." I say with a smile, he looks to me in confusion. "The Dothraki do not know how to sail the narrow sea, the Unsullied are not trained nearly as well as a smuggler. There is no one skilled in the way of the tides within that pyramid. The Queen is in need of a Master of Ships, Edlin." His eyes widen as disbelief covers his face.

"She asks me?" I slowly nod.

"I believe the Queen has taken a liking to me, and both Lord Varys and I trust you. I could not see anyone better for the position." I lift my hand and he quickly takes it, shaking it once. "Captain Edlin Vane, Meereen's Master of Ships."

Before Edlin can respond, a cry comes from behind us. I turn to see the Unsullied accompanying me fall to his knees, a sword protruding from his stomach. A man with a golden mask rips the bloodied blade from the Unsullied and swipes at me before I can move even a step. Edlin rips me behind him as searing pain erupts on my face, I touch my skin and pull back bloodied fingers.

I press a hand to my wound as blood spills over my fingers, Edlin stands sword in hand as the masked man draws closer. The old Captain moves with speed and skill I did not know he possessed, cutting through the man with ease. More Unsullied quickly arrive, taking in the sight before them. They surround Edlin and I without a word, leading the both of us back to the pyramid. Edlin places a hand on each of my arms from behind, standing close as he ushers me to the Queen.

...

Daenerys sits beside me as the maester pulls stitches through my skin, I grasp her hand tighter with every pull.

"Who are they?" I ask through clenched teeth.

"I believe they are called the Sons of the Harpy, former masters that are not happy with my new freed city. I have sent my advisor Daario and Greyworm to seek them out." She tells me, I stare at her for a moment.

"Perhaps you need to show them your strength, Daenerys." She stares intently at me. "My father ruled with utmost respect from every lesser house in the North because he was just, and because he did not hesitate to answer crimes within his land with justice.

The former masters, they saw your strength when you sieged the city with dragons by your side. Now that Drogon is missing and his brothers remain below the pyramid, along side this peaceful, more hesitant rule, they are seeing weakness. A Dragon Queen with no dragons is far less threatening, your grace. You need to remind the former masters what it means to commit treason against your rule." Daenerys smiles at me, realization floods over her face.

"A wolf in sheep's clothing, you truly are." The maester covers my wound with a healing salve before he stands, bowing to the Queen as he exits.

...

Melania lays at my feet as Missandei braids the top half of my hair, tucking a silver pin with the head of a direwolf through the end. My dress is a silk of deep blue, the silver belt cinching the fabric at the waist holds the two matching direwolves in its jeweled design. The sheer sleeves hang off my shoulders, leaving my pale collarbone exposed.

"Your skin is like snow, even lighter than Daenerys's." Missandei says with a smile as she adjusts the pieces of hair that hang around my face.

"I will show you my home when we return to Westeros, you will understand why my skin holds so little color." I tell her, she nods holding the same gentle smile. Melania stands as I do, following close behind as Missandei and I leave the room and head to where Daenerys sits on her throne.

Before her stands an armored man with dark hair, a Dothraki arakh strapped to his hip, and a Knight dressed in armor black as night. He towers over me, I can see as much even from where I stand. His armor holds streaks of blood red, a Valyrian sword tucked in his hilt. In one swift movement, he removes his helmet to reveal shock white hair against tanned skin.

Aegon Targaryen, the true born son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Elia Martell. The stories tell of Aerys Targaryen naming Viserys his heir after the death of Rhaegar, forsaking any claim Aegon would have held for the Iron Throne. Now he stands as his aunt's fierce protector, his skill with a blade rivaled only by the Rouge Prince Daemon Targaryen. I watch as the prince turns to face me, white, disheveled hair falling into his face. My face turns to stone in order to cover any awe at his beauty, a face so handsome it must have been carved from the gods themselves.

"Alysanne." I hear Daenerys say, my eyes that were locked within Aegon's pull away and meet hers. "I would like you to meet my nephew, Prince Aegon Targaryen, and one of my most trusted advisors, Daario Naharis. I present to both of you, Lady Alysanne of House Stark." The both of them offer me a small bow, the prince's eyes hold upon me. "Daario had just finished presenting his thoughts to me on the fighting pits."

I force my mind to focus on the task at hand, the one Missandei described to me within my bed chambers. I recall her retelling of Daario and Aegon's journey to reclaim Slaver's Bay, and how Daario wishes to regain peace in Meereen through the fighting pits that so many ask to reopen. I walk further up the stairs and smile at the queen who sits before me.

"I must urge you to reconsider, your grace." I say, Daenerys raises an eyebrow at me. "I vowed to bend my knee to you; I will not hide my feelings on how to proceed, even if they do not align with your own." A small small pulls at her lips, she stifles it.

"Continue, Lady Stark." I attempt to steady my racing heart as I feel Aegon's eyes burn into my back.

"Many like Daario earned the fortune to create a better life for themselves within these pits, Missandei tells me the fights were tradition within Meereen. Reopen the pits, but only allow those who choose to fight within the ring." She remains silent for a moment before slowly giving me a nod, I bow to her. "Your grace." I turn on my heel to see Aegon staring down his nose at me, both the prince and Daario waiting for me to pass before they make their way down the stairs.