Fatebringer | Viserys Targaryen

Chapter 14

They left for Astapor two days later.

It had been Quentyn who had freed Ysira from Viserys's tent, after exhausting every topic of conversation she could think of to not only keep him awake and entertained, but also distract herself from the thoughts that clouded her mind. Gods, how easy it would have been to crawl onto his lap pretending she was only cleaning his wound, how easy it would have been to kiss his perfect lips when she'd been examining his brow for more cuts.

Quentyn had said nothing directly but had dared to nudge her teasingly as he walked her back to her own tent after that. If he knew something about Viserys's feelings, he didn't speak it plainly. But to Ysira, the wink he shot as soon as he left was an indicator that Viserys wasn't exactly opposed to any of it. Now, it seemed, she only had to wait for Viserys to make a move– any move.

They did not speak of the interaction as they prepared to sail for Astapor, the Second Sons and Stormcrows filling their ships. Viserys was walking fine now, though he clearly grew tired on his leg and would need more than two days to fully recover from his injury. Ysira made sure to give him as much rest as possible, and had him laid on cushions during the hours that they sailed for Astapor.

"Your lead," said Ysira to Daenerys a their ship docked, the high walls of Astapor visible in the distance, a golden harpy atop one of the round castle towers. "We do nothing without your leave."

"Thank you," said Daenerys. "I will do what I saw in my dream, I will follow its guidance. We will make an impact here, I am sure of it."

Waiting on the docks was a man with a slave girl beside him. Kraznys mo Nakloz had been the main point person recommended by Hizdahr, practically the only one they could actually speak to in Astapor. He had warned her that Kraznys did not speak the Common Tongue, which Daenerys had taken as an important point– she told them to show no indications that they understood whatever he said, so as to hold an advantage. That would be easy unless he spoke Norvoshi, which he'd know they had learned.

Kraznys was an incredibly fat man with an oiled red and black beard. As they stepped off their ship, Daenerys muttered, "I believe he has bigger breasts than me." Viserys snorted and, behind them, Quentyn looked flustered.

The slave girl beside Kraznys was very pretty, with a round face and dusky skin, eyes shining like molten gold beneath the sun. She spoke sweetly over Kraznys, who'd begun talking in Astapori Valyrian, "Master Kraznys welcomes you to Astapor and asks that you follow him to see the Unsullied, which we were told you wanted to purchase."

"Yes, thank you," said Daenerys, letting them lead the way. Only Ser Jorah and Quentyn would come with them, the others remaining behind to protect the ships. Kraznys didn't seem to think anything of using a translator on two strikingly Valyrian-looking individuals, and spoke continuously as they walked, making no indication that he expected them to understand.

The girl kept translating exactly as they were led out of the docks and past a pale brick bridge ending at an archway that opened toward a large terrance. "The Unsullied have stood here for a day and a night with no food or water," said the girl in reference to the soldiers standing on top of the arch. "They will stand until they drop. Such is their obedience."

On the terrance, the soldiers that waited parted to make a path for their group. "They may suit our needs," said Daenerys carefully. "Tell me of their training."

The girl translated to Master Kraznys, "J'abra Vesterozia las kreni, y ivetras dori rije vaghoma gidhmilas qova j'odre. Ebas gimigho skokydho mazmedhis bodmari." (T: The Westerosi woman is pleased with them, but speaks no praise to keep the price down. She wishes to know how they are trained.)