"Every time I close my eyes It's like a dark paradise No one compares to you I'm scared that you won't be waiting on the other side."
Dark Paradise by Lana Del Rey.
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Over on the hellcarrier, Nick Fury was currently overlooking the still unconscious body of Daenerys, pondering what her reaction would be when she would awake in a strange room surrounded by strange people in a strange world different from her own.
Frankly, he didn't want to consider the consequences, but decided to only have himself, Natasha and Bruce in the medical wing in order to prevent overwhelming the Queen who was to discover her kingdom destroyed, friends dead and a whole new world at her feet.
Nicolas Fury rarely regretted any play he made, but was beginning to question whether he made the correct call on this mission or not. Two people were murdered on his order, dangerous or not, and a whole kingdom was destroyed with his willing help. This second guessing infuriated Nick, but he was in too deep now to bow out.
The machines began to beep signalling that she was regaining consciousness, and Fury looked to his associates, "remember, ease her in gently and-" his words were cut off by a piercing scream as the Queen shot up from her bed and sent her arms out in front of her, hands shaking.
All she could see was a clinical whiteness around her, and three faces peering over at the foot of her bed attentively. She looked down her body to find herself in rags she would only expect the residents of Fleabottom to even attempt to sport.
Her silver hair was mangled and clinging to her clammy cheeks as she sat up. She looked around the room once again and saw a room cluttered with unfamiliar objects until a tall, fatigued man in a white cloak clutched her shoulders.
"Hey! Hey!" He spoke loudly, shaking her slightly as she slapped his clammy palms away from her, standing in a daze from the bed and running out through the only doorway she could see, the dazzling white light blinding her as she closed her eyes shut and ran as far and fast as she could.
She shot balls of sweltering fire at any thing that seemed to be a threat to her, and soon made her way out onto a strange strip surrounded by towering mechanical devices that made her stop and spin around slowly at the scene.
She began to analyse her situation, but had no clue how to put it into comprehendible description.
She seemed to be up in the air amongst the clouds, the bustling wind sweeping her tresses over her face and back with a deafening lapping sound ringing in her ears. She saw complex mechanicals and most importantly, she saw an abundance of unfamiliar citizens in all black bounding toward her, clunky black devices in their grasps.
She collapsed into a heap on the solid stone beneath her as more people came to the scene, all dressed in unusual neon coloured garments which made her eyes ache. A single tear cascaded down her flushed pink cheeks as one man approached her slowly, baring a device in his right hand.
"Miss Targaryen," he spoke sternly, as Daenerys produced a flicker of fire in defence making him surrender the device to the floor, "I understand your confusion, but if you would join us inside we'l-"
She cut him off, her voice in an attempt of being in it's usual royally charged tone, "For I am a Queen! You will address me as a Queen when telling me of my location, sir," she shouted across the tarmac.
"Were you the ones who killed my most trusted?" She screamed, steam arising from her body an cheeks flared, "are these associates of yours responsible for their murder?"
Nick Fury looked back to his team as Maria Hill gave him a nod signalling for him to compromise with the woman who had gone through tragedy known and unknown, "Your Grace, we do not wish you no harm," he spoke softer than before as Daenerys looked up at him, clutching her arms that were sprawled over her waist protectively.
"Then what do you wish of me, sir?" She spat, standing from her bare feet and looking the man in his one good eye, brushing the hair from her face and wiping the stranded tear from her cheek.
"I wish of your service, if you'll accept mine, Your Grace,"
"You request my assistance in a....supergroup?" Daenerys asked later that night, cocking an eyebrow at the manila folders in front of her and the three faces surrounding her who she'd learnt were Natasha, Bruce and a man referred to as Fury.
She'd given in on the deck of the hellcarrier and had made her way willingly inside, although requesting some more fitting garments and allowing time to restore her hair into its former glory.
They hadn't answered her questions yet on old Valyria's current status, but she remained solemn at the loss of her two best friends all in one day. She remembered an arrow, and she remembered a beam of light that was sure to blind her if she'd looked at it any longer.
She would get her revenge, one way or another - a Queen always does.
She was sat in the conference room of the ship, in one of the dresses the team had grabbed before the destruction of her country, a dark blue dress that flowed a little in a train at her feet along with her hair braided intricately pinned back.
Her skin was still pale, having not soaked up the Valyrian sun for a day or two and her balance was still flimsy from being unconscious. She'd seen her appearance, and lets just say it was not well fitting to her usual calibre.
Nick Fury nodded back at her, the holographs of the rest of the team appearing, most of the clips shown from the Battle of New York. Daenerys was oblivious at first, but when she saw the man in front of her turn into a huge ball of green rage, she reconsidered the importance of this group.
She recognised Natasha, and understood how she was a force to be reckoned with along with more men that made up the group they called The Avengers Initiative. They were the superheroes of the modern lands, and they wanted her to be one of Earth's Mightiest Heroes.
"There are some conspirators, a hostile, experimental scientific threat group named HYDRA," Fury elaborated in front of her, "and your powers may just be the factor that wins us the fight, Your Grace,"
Daenerys studied the files more, before looking up to the three who were waiting expectantly for her answer, "I was never a fighter, a champion was always at my beck and call," she spoke with an eyebrow cocked upward at the three.
It was true, whenever she needed a champion, men were practically falling at her feet to fight for her life and more often than not they ended up winning. Whether it was Darrio, Jorah, Ser Barristan or Jon himself, they always defended their Queen.
Natasha spoke up, "and dragons, apparently," she said, eyeing the Queen that Fury had talked so much about. Daenerys scoffed slightly, leaning back in her chair to look directly at the red headed assassin in front of her.
"Ah," she spoke comically, "your associates do their research," she continued, looking through her own folder casually before sliding the manila folder back towards the three, "I just hope they've done enough research to know what we are against in this battle with those you call HYDRA,"
Fury's lips twitched upward into a stern smirk, "we?" He questioned, as the Queen stood from her place with well posture and nodded firmly.