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˖*°࿐ chapter twenty-one. xxi. MHYSA
LAELIA, LOKI, MELORA, ALLISTER, KORBEN, HER DRAGONS AND HER UNSULLIED ARMYwaited for the slaves to walk out of the city's gates, standing on top of a rock that had formed into a leveled top surface with makeshift stairs. Frigga and Odin sat on the rock below their feet, watching the dragons flap their wings and fight over a piece of meat Laelia had thrown a little while earlier. They had met the Greystone and decided that they had like her and her views on politics, how she was going to take back the Seven Kingdoms without killing innocents. The rock served as their platform while they are going to tell the slaves they were being set free, that they could do as they please without being penalized for it. Aenerys growls in anticipation, his teeth clattering together. Loki gazes down at them with slight fear; what would they do if Laelia were to ever die? Who would take care of them? Surely no one would want to keep them and the dragons only listened to one person, and that was its proprietor.
He looked back at his consort and found her elegant with her hair out of her face and the azure dress looking more spectacular than the one he had last seen her in. She had undoubtedly matured as a woman while they were gone. "They will come, Your Grace," Korben said to reassure the heir. "When they're ready."
"Perhaps they didn't want to be conquered," she responds.
"You didn't conquer them, you liberated them," Allister says, staring out into the barren void.
"People learn to love their chains," she mutters back with distress. The gates open to let out the slaves, hundreds of them marching out, a woman cloaked from head to toe in white and blue apparel leading them. They all had dirty clothes and skin, making their tan complexions deeper than it regularly is. But you can see multiple light-skins, the same color that Laelia had just muddled, some were a mix and others were dark-skinned. When they come near the Greystone, her soldiers hold out their spears in warning.
Melora walks in front of Laelia to do her speech, one she hadn't practiced before but was performing it in her mind as she went. "Bizy sa Laelia Greystone, Jelmazmo, Dorzalty, Dāria Sikudo Dārȳti Björndottir, Muña Zaldrizoti. Sa va zer sko enkat jiva derve."(This is Laelia Greystone, the Stormborn, the Unburnt, the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Björndottir, the Mother of Dragons. It is to her you owe your freedom.)
"No," Laelia interrupts. Melora hangs her head and lets Laelia take the stage, stepping behind the silver-haired woman. "Dāervose jevosy yne enkot daor. Jemot ziry tepagon koston daor. Dāerves jevys tepagon yne sytilībos daor. Jemēle mērī sytilības. Lo ziry arlī jaelāt, jemēlo syt ziry mazemagon jemo bēvilza. Tolvies jemys." (You do not owe me your freedom. I cannot give it to you. Your freedom is not mine to give. It belongs to you and you alone. If you want it back, you must take it for yourselves. Each and every one of you.)
Melora had been translating everything to the three gods, who did not understand the Krefson language, and what she was doing. Everyone was still, but the noises of the dragons and the wind filled their ears in the absenteeism of voices. "Mhysa!" A man yells out while holding out his arm, palm facing the group. Others joined in on the chant. Delight swelled their veins, freedom is crying through their lips, powerful this time than it had moments ago, and their sullen faces had developed healthy smiles. "What does it mean?"
"It is Old Oedali Khaleesi. It means 'mother'."
They shuffled closer to the stone, in spite of the spears, and proceeded chorusing the word. The Unsullied soldiers found their ready stance, the dragons screeching at the disturbance. "It's alright. These people wouldn't hurt me." The freed men, women, and children stopped once they were mere centimeters away from the threat of the weapons. She held her hand out for Loki to take, letting him help her walk down the steps, despite the fear he held about her getting hurt in the process of liberating the people.
She kneeled down next to Aenerys, pressing the back of her hand softly against the dragon's scales. "Sōvegon," she orders. (Fly.) They beat their wings and let the wind rush under them to hoist them off the earth and into the air, Laelia standing up after they leave. She starts towards the group below her, stepping between two soldiers. Frigga and Odin both smile at her; she was unquestionably a great leader. "Ivestragī nyke rēbagon."(Let me pass.)
They look at her before parting, letting the Greystone walk through them and joining again. She walks through the group of slaves and let them touch her as if to reassure them that this was not a dream, a woman grabbing on to her shoulder before releasing her, seeing a child to her right reach for her. They all wore collars and a braided band that was knotted around a loop on them: it was the chains that made the masters lead them.
Allister and Loki looked after the woman, making sure she wasn't hurt after she disappeared from sight. Frigga stood up in a rush after losing sight of the lady; she didn't want the only other female she has interacted with to be injured.
Soon enough, her blonde head was seen when she was pulled from the ground and into the air, multiple men hoisting her up above them. They straighten her into a sitting position on the front men's shoulders, the men behind her making certain she was alright before loosening their grips. Men and woman reached out to her, calling out the word 'Mhysa' over and over again, hoping to get a touch of Laelia's hands, even if it was just her fingertips. Laelia raised an arm, letting it glide over their skin as she was turned in a circle, smiling widely at the people.
Aenerys flew past her head, whipping her hair around while he shrieked. She looks up, staring at her children as Aenerys watched from above, seeing the rings of men and women around his mother.
