Long Lost Queen

Chapter 34

      The sounds of crickets chirping echoed through the streets of Meeren. The city was asleep, the news of their long lost queens conquest in Qarth not yet reaching their ears. The only life flowing through the streets were fireflies, illuminating the cobble stone streets, and the Lannister flags waving from buildings.
      But that simple peace was soon interrupted, as a shriek reverberated from the balcony of the great pyramid. A shattered wine glass hit the hard ground, it's contents spilling across the stone like rich blood.
       Cersei Lannister shook silently with rage, before whirling to face the soldiers who stood behind her, trembling.
      "That bitch did what?" She snarled through clenched teeth, her fangs piercing her gums lightly, blood tainting their sharp points.
       "She negotiated with the Baratheons, gaining their support and the city of Qarth. That adds another  four thousand to her army your grace." The taller soldier spoke quietly. His brown eyes fell to the floor, his hands clenching behind his back.
       The shorter soldier took over the speaking. "She had her dragons, your grace. Three of them, larger than us. They followed her every order. One was black, one was green, one was-"
     "I don't care about their color!" Cersei snapped. "I care about how to defeat her." The false queen stared out over her sleeping city, trying to ignore the clouds in the dark sky that looked sickeningly like dragons.
      "I don't know how to do that your grace," the taller soldier spoke again. "Her army may be smaller than ours, but her will and her fire is not. She alone could kill a hundred men."
       "I'm aware," Cersei muttered bitterly. She raised her head and inhaled deeply, her eyes fluttering closed. She let out a deep breath and with it these words, "find where she's going next. Go there, but not to watch. Take someone or something she holds dear. Throw her off her game. It's my turn now."

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         Clary Fray sat quietly beneath the willows trees lining the army's camp, her head resting against the thick trunk. The stars above her were twinkling like glitter reminding her of Magnus' eyeliner.
     The army was camping out in the woods, a few days after departing Qarth. For hours each day, Kat and her council would meet in her tent, pouring over maps and battle plans, deciding on their next moves. Often, the institute crew would watch quietly, occasionally interjecting with an opinion, then falling silent again. The majority of the speaking was done by the dragon queen and Daario Naharis, each of them believing their plan to be the best.
      Kat would snap at him, flashing her fangs, and Daario would return the gesture while their audience chuckled at them. But eventually, they would come to a compromise every time, Daario always finding a way to turn it into a lesson for the long lost queen.
       Clary smiled to herself as she relived those lectures in her mind. Jace would roll his eyes, Izzy and Simon would sneak out of the tent, Alec would stare intently at Kat, while Magnus, Enzo, and Christine often fell asleep. But Clary would always listen, probably more than Kat herself did. The advice Daario has spoken, things such as, "mercy will always be on your side," "rule with a brave soul," or "learning to compromise will make your reign easier," often played back in Clary's head.
      Why, she didn't really know. She wasn't the queen, and she certainly didn't have royal blood. She wasn't jealous of Kat, really, but she often found herself questioning her importance to her friend. How could she possibly help her rule the country when she had no idea about how to? How could she advise her in the future when she is just as clueless? These thoughts kept her up at night, and Jace would prod her for what was wrong, but she never told him the truth. "I'm nervous for the next city, I don't feel well, my periods coming," were common lies. She could tell he didn't fully believe her, but she had no idea how to respond.
      She loved Kat. She truly did. But she couldn't help but wonder if she would be of better help...somewhere else?
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"Kat, what are you doing?" Ian asked tentatively, watching his queen with a creased forehead.
Kat was sprawled across the grass, underneath a tree, her hair spread out around her. She wore tight black shorts, and a blue crop top, her hands resting lightly on her stomach. Her eyes were closed, and her chest rose and fell with her small breathes. Ian approached her quietly, unsure if she was asleep. He stopped a few feet from her, shifting on his feet. His gray shirt was stuck to his back with sweat, and he felt horrible for the soldiers in full uniform training throughout the camp.
"I'm thinking," she replied, opening one purple eye to look at Ian.
"About?" He questioned, sitting next to her.
"What to do next. Where to go, how to negotiate." Kat sat up slowly, running her hand through her hair, pulling it up into a messy bun. She sighed, and looked at the black swan.
"I think the way you negotiated in Qarth was just fine, from what I've heard." Ian shrugged.
"I can't do that everytime, Ian. As easy as that would be, it's not a good idea. I can't be a ruler who depends on one strategy, power, to get what I want." Kat looked out over her camp, at her soldiers training under Alec and Daario's consul.
"I suppose that's true," Ian replied with a soft sigh. "Here's an idea," he started, turning quickly to face Kat. "Play on their heartstrings, their emotions. Ask them how they would feel if they're parents were killed and they had the opportunity to avenge them. Ask them if they wouldn't want support as well."
Kat took a deep breath, staring throughout the camp. She bit her lip, thinking. "That could work. I've head the Starks in Winterfell have had their fair share of heartbreak."
"If it doesn't there's always plan B," Ian spoke suggestively, dipping his head in the direction of where the dragons lay sleeping in the shade.
Kat chuckled, leaning back into the grass. "Yes, there's always plan B."

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      The three soldiers observed from the high branches of trees surrounding the queens camp. Their agility kept them from falling and their heightened sense allowed them to see and hear everything going on down below. They would share the occasional glance and point at soldiers and others roaming the camp, trying to choose the perfect victim. But no one emerged to meet their criteria yet.
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     Clary sulked back towards camp, her mind cloudy and lost. Her feet felt heavy and her stomach twisted. She knew the second Kat or anyone from the institute saw her, they would pounce, knowing something was wrong. She stopped just short of the trees lining the camp, suddenly not ready to face them. Her breath was uneven and her hand shaky.
     A small twig snapped behind her, and she spun around, ready to make an excuse to one of her friends but was instead faced by three men, all dressed in the gear of Lannister soldiers. Her heart fell to her feet and she felt sick. She wanted to run, but found herself frozen, unable to move.
     "Hello there," the first soldier spoke, his voice raspy. He smiled at her to reveal gleaming yellow fangs and a look so murderous Clary was surprised she didn't drop dead. "You're exactly what we've been looking for."
       The other two beginning to stalk towards her snapped Clary out of her trance, and she turned to run. But before she could shift, a sharp pain hit her neck , and she fell to the ground, a plea for Kat the last thing to be heard before the world went dark.