BREAKER OF CHAINS | Daenerys Targaryen

1.

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CHAPTER ONE
~ Always A Slave ~

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Jaenys Nohnareon had no recollection of his life before he had been sold off to the Good Masters of Astapor - not a single memory. He didn't know who he was, who his family was or if they cared, or even knew where he was. Of course, this was normal for a young child sold into slavery, the never-ending questions that clouded their minds as they tried to sleep in the terrible conditions that the masters deemed appropriate.

Jaenys laid awake - he didn't sleep much; none of them did - wondering what his life would be like if his family had loved him enough to keep him instead of selling him like a goat at a market. He searched through every corner of his brain, searching for the answers to his questions that had plagued him since he could remember, but to no avail, he found nothing but emptiness.

He closed his eyes, trying to prevent the tears that had collected in his eyes from falling down his cheeks - he couldn't cry; not here, not anywhere because crying is a sign of weakness and weakness isn't tolerated amongst trained assassins. During the day, with their gruelling training programs in the blistering heat and unforgiving schedules, it was easier to hide his real pain, but at night, when his surroundings are quiet and with nothing to do, his thoughts ran wild.

Since day one (or, that's what he had assumed, anyway), Jaenys had been selected for an elite group of assassins who unlike the unsullied warriors, could hide in plain sight and kill without being seen or heard. They were trained to be the personal killers of the Masters and carried out their orders without question or hesitation.

Despite being one of the best killers in Astapor, he refused to stand idly by while the innocent got hurt. More times than he could remember, he stood in front of the whip meant for a poor young slave and took the brunt of the lashes. His actions to protect those who are weaker than him angered the Masters, resulting in additional beatings that grew more and more painful as they continued.

Taking a deep breath to stop the tears, he rolled onto his side, allowing the cold night air to attack his open wounds like a dagger. As he moved, he heard the familiar jingle of his chains that kept him in his place, reminding him that he was useless and powerless against the souls that owned him. The thought depressed him more than anything that he had endured - they owned him; they controlled him.

His thoughts were interrupted by the soft sobbing of the young boy who pretended to be asleep next to him. Without even taking a second thought, he wrapped his arm around the young boy, engulfing him in a comforting hug.

"Shhh. Try not to wake the masters up; you know what they'll do if you wake them up," he said in a quiet, but calm voice, "I know it's hard, but you need to try and get some sleep." No matter how hard he tried, the poor young boy kept sobbing and sobbing against Jaenys' chest, gradually getting louder as he did so.

Fearful that the Masters would hear him and punish him, Jaenys quietly began humming the first tune that came into his head. He could never tell you where he knew the song from, but he assumed that it was from his childhood - his life before slavery.

As the low and dulcet tones of Jaenys humming washed over the boy, his sobbing grew quieter and quieter until the sounds of snores replaced the sniffling. Smiling proudly to himself, Jaenys closed his eyes with the hope of getting a few hours of sleep before the Masters put him through another day of hell.

No matter how hard he tried or how tired he felt, sleep refused to come to him; his thoughts were too loud, and his mind was racing with worries for the younger slaves and what they would have to endure. They were so young, so innocent and yet, here they were being forced to work against their will and treated as an object rather than a human.

Jaenys' usual thought pattern was interrupted by the loud crashing of pots and pans used as a tool to wake up their property. Confused as to why the Masters were waking them up during the night, Jaenys looked out of the tiny window that they were permitted to have and noticed the glaring sun poking through the gap.

Sighing loudly, he quickly got up and prepared himself for the long day of work ahead of him and his fellow slaves. The Masters were the least forgiving in the morning and always looked for any excuse to punish them, so Jaenys knew that he needed to push through whatever the Masters threw at him. But as Jaenys made his way outside, he could tell that something was different – the Masters were on edge, everyone was working twice as hard as usual, and the whole atmosphere was unnerving.

In all the years that Jaenys lived in Astapor, he had never seen the Masters act like this - he had never seen them so worried. He could only assume that someone significant was coming to inspect the unsullied, someone who had the power and influence that the Masters so desperately wanted.

Jaenys' attention was suddenly grabbed by the yelling of his name, "You!" one of the masters said in Valyrian, "alert me when the ship arrives!"

Confused as to what ship the Master was referring to, he remained in his place for a moment too long, resulting in a lashing from the Master, "do I need to remind you what happens when you disobey? You may be the best, but I will not hesitate to kill you if you are defective!"

With a curt nod of his head, Jaenys ran off in the direction of the harbour with his weapons and long rags trailing behind him. He graciously jumped from roof to roof, climbing up - and down - the sides of buildings that to most seemed impossible, but to him, it was second nature.

The journey down to the harbour is one that Jaenys often makes - he is always on lookout duty - but he loves it. The breeze in his hair and the freedom he feels is something that he loves more than anything. He imagines that he is in a far off land where there are no slaves, and everyone is free to do as they please. But as he finds his place amongst the slaves on the docks, he is bitterly reminded of who, and what, he is.

When the ship finally came into Jaenys' eye-sight many hours later, the sun had already begun to set, casting an orange hue over the city of Astapor. Jaenys watched as it slowly grew closer, amazed by the grace and beauty of something so large - its sails flying as the wind caught it was a sight to be seen (at least in Jaenys' eyes).

Making a note of as many details as possible, Jaenys returned to one of the Masters - Kraznys mo Nakloz -  to warn him of the new arrival. But no amount of warning could have prepared anyone for what was coming their way.

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I could have waited until this chapter was perfect, but because I am a perfectionist and am never satisfied with anything that I write, it would have taken me years. So instead, I decided that I am just going to post this chapter how it is and then edit it sometime later.

Another big shoutout to WonderWoman97 for helping me develop the characters and figuring out plot ideas. Your help is much appreciated!

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