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Chapter 11: Ch11 Pentos PandemoniumChapter Text
Chapter 11 Pentos Pandemonium
Daenerys Targaryen
It worked...
She breathed deep, feeling the soft mattress underneath her. She just lay there bathing in the warm of the shining sun and warm humid air. She'd forgotten what it was like to be warm. She reveled in the feeling. The Winter had been too harsh. More than anyone had expected.
It will be different this time, she promised herself, we will stop the Others...
Thoughts of Missandei and Grey Worm came to her and with a pang of regret, she realised that they were slaves again of the Masters of Astapor. I'll have to liberate Slaver's Bay...again...
She tried not to think of Jon. Her nephew was safe in the North again, surrounded by his previously murdered kin. With the Uncle he had thought of his father for most of his life. The last of her kin in Westeros.
She pushed her thoughts past Jon and Tyrion came to mind. He'd be with his father in Casterly Rock. She frowned as Tywin Lannister came to mind. Gods willing Tyrion would overcome him without killing him this time. I would dearly like to meet him this time, a vindictive part of her mind glowered.
With a sigh, she rose reluctantly, casting away her dark thoughts. It would not do to stay abed all day. They all knew their own parts of the plan and she had to focus on hers.
She stared about getting her bearings, the room was just as lavish as she remembered it. Her day started just as she before. Servants came, a bath a change of clothes, all preparations for a new day as befit a Princess of House Targaryen.
After they were finished, she skipped breaking her fast for walking about the manse.
It was, again, all like she remembered it. Warm and airy, filled with lavish decorations and subservient slaves. She saw a vaguely familiar blonde servant staring at her from afar before the blonde seemingly turned to flee in the other direction. Daenerys frowned for a moment but paid it no heed and continued walking.
Another slave girl was polishing one of many decorations as Daenerys approached. The girl caught sight of her and stopped.
Daenerys smiled at her and nodded, expecting the girl to return to her work, but the girl just kept staring.
"Is something the matter?" Daenerys asked in a friendly tone.
The slave girl looked around fearfully before looked again at her with a strange expression on her face and before whispering, "Breaker of chains...."
Daenerys went very pale and froze at the words. She couldn't have heard that right.
"What did you say?" her tone stronger than she intended.
The slave girl gulped nervously and gave her a wide eyed hopeful look. "You are the Breaker of Chains....have you come to free us?" her voice quivered.
Incomprehension engulfed Daenerys, how the hell does she know that name? She stepped closer to the girl, "How do you that name?" she gasped fearfully.
The girl gulped, eyes filled with hope, "I remember. It was like a dream...you are the Breaker of Chains, you killed the Masters of Slaver's Bay...you are the Mother of Dragons..." the girl paused and grabbed her hand, "Will...will you kill the Masters of Pentos now? Will you free us?"
Daenerys stared at the earnest girl as a coldness spread through her as the full implications of the slaves knowing the future began to unfold in her mind. If the slaves remember, what about the Magisters?Or the Slave Masters? Only a few were supposed to remember...how does this slave girl remember?
She gathered herself mentally, and pushed past her hesitation, "Do not speak of this. Remain silent until I call for you," she commanded firmly.
The hope in the girl's eyes shone brighter as she nodded, almost tearfully happy.
"...go about your duties and do nothing," Daenerys finished.
The girl nodded and scurried away, almost skipping with elation.
Daenerys watched as the girl scurried away, but the coldness in her gut didn't disappear.
She continued walking but with trepidation now. If one servant remembered then who else? How else had events changed? She had no true friends or allies here...and no dragons. No power to speak of and too many that would rejoice to see her dead before she became the Breaker of Chains.
"Dany!"
Daenerys froze as the familiar voice called to her. She turned to face the speaker, a strong sense of foreboding filling her being.
Approaching her with a wide smile on his face was her brother, Viserys Targaryen. He was just as she remembered him, dressed richly with a haughty expression on his face. An arrogant smile was on his face as he approached her.
The panicked look in his eyes and his screams as Drogo gave him a gold crown flashed before her mind's eye.
She watched him approach with bated breath. Do you remember, brother?
He came to a stop and gave her scrutinizing look before placing his hands on her shoulders, "Ah, you are looking as beautiful as ever Dany!" he complimented her with a smile on his lips.
She breathed out a silent sigh of relief, she didn't realise that she had been holding in, as she realised that Viserys did not remember his gold crown.
"Thank...thank you, brother," she stammered.
Viserys frowned at her hesitation, "Is something the matter?"
Daenerys shook her head quickly, "No of course not."
"Good! The Khal is coming tomorrow and you must look and be your best!" Viserys retorted in a commanding tone and with a sure smile.
Daenerys blinked, Tomorrow? But...but that means Jon Arryn is already dead! Her mind screamed in shock.Jon Arryn had already been dead for a while when Drogo first came for her.
She buried her shock deep and gave Viserys a placating smile, "Of course brother. Nothing must go wrong tomorrow."
Viserys beamed back at her, "That's the spirit Dany, when you marry the Khal, he will join our cause and help us take back our father's throne," he nodded assuredly, "It's good that you're warming up to the idea. You have to look at the bigger picture, dear sister."
She nodded ostensibly to placate her brother's delusions, "Of course brother, that is the most important thing." Things were not going to go as he planned...not by a long shot. Not the first time and definitely not this time.
As she spoke, out of the corner of her eye, she could see Magister Illyrio Mopatis approaching. She turned towards him.
"Ah...your Grace, I would like to talk with you," Illyrio Mopatis spoke casually, but there was sharpness to his gaze that disquieted Daenerys. His eyes were focused on her and it left no question as to who was calling 'your Grace'.
She looked about, he was standing there casually, but with him stood eight of his Unsullied guards. All were armed and armored. To the causal observer they were standing at attention, unmoving, as unflinching as their reputation. But to someone that had spent so long with Grey Worm and his men, she could see the tenseness in them.
Her gut twisted in upon itself as realised why the Magister looked so off sorts and why he had so many guards with him.
"Yes, Magister? Is there more preparations we need to make for tomorrow?" Viserys asked irritably
Illyrio's eyes flickered dismissively at Viserys before focusing back on her, "My dear, it would be best if you did not run."
She raised her head defiantly, "I do not run." she retorted regally, voice calm and collected.
Viserys frowned, "Run? Run from what?" he demanded irritably, his mercurial temperament showing. "What are you talking about?"
Now it was Illyrio's turn to frown, he gave Viserys an evaluating look, continuing to ignore Viserys's words he asked Daenerys, "He does not remember?" he asked in confusion.
She shook her head, "Apparently not."
"Unfortunate."
Viserys's nature asserted itself, "What are you babbling about Magister?" he mewled arrogantly. "I asked you a question! Run from who? You assured us we would be safe her from the Usurper's assassins!"
Illyrio turned unimpressed eyes to look at Viserys, "This is beyond you boy. Best to keep quiet and let your betters speak." he commanded in a firm and unquestionable tone.
Daenerys winced internally, that was probably the wrong tone to take with her brother, the dragon was going to awake now, she thought with derision.
She was right. Viserys's face reddened and he glared angrily at the Magister, "Boy? Boy! I am the King! I am the rightful king of the Iron Throne!"
Illyrio snorted disdainfully and sneered, "You are nothing boy," he jerked his head at his Unsullied, "You two, escort the king to his rooms and keep him there!"
Two of the Unsullied detached from the group and advanced on the sputtering Viserys. He tried to back away eyes opening in disbelief as the expressionless Unsullied advanced. They grabbed him by his arms as he started screaming in anger. They paid him no head as they dragged him away. His screams grew in intensity as he screamed about being King, about unhanding him and that the dragon would awaken if they did not obey him.
The screams and irate demands of Viserys echoed through the halls, getting quieter and quieter as the Unsullied dragged him away to his rooms.
As Viserys's voice finally disappeared Illyrio turned back to Daenerys and smiled, "Good...forgive the unpleasantness, my Queen. We both know who the true dragon is and we should go and speak of such things. Come along, I believe there is a great deal for us to sort out," he said gesturing forward.
This is not the plan... she thought unhappily. She swore silently under her breath, Seven Hells Bran, what did you do? What happened?
Two of the Unsullied stepped forward and gestured for her to follow them. Daenerys gave Illyrio a defiant gaze before moving forward and following his guards.
The rest of the guards fell into step and followed behind with Illyrio.
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Jorah Mormont
The air was too warm...
That's what woke him up, he sat up in bed blinking away the sweat in his eyes, confusion foremost in his mind. He looked around in confusion, it took him a moment to recognize where he was and when he did his confusion only grew.
Gods...Pentos?
It was a little room he'd used more often than he cared to remember, in a clean but affordable whorehouse in Pentos. There was a warm body next to him. The warm body was pressed up against him, The warmth of her bare skin was unsettling. He couldn't remember her name. A skilled Lysene girl, he remembered her...just not her name.
This was Pentos from a lifetime ago. He was a different person back then, lost and spying for the Iron Throne.
He shook himself and tried to understand what was happening. The last thing he remembered was leading the rearguard at Moat Cailin as the dead came. Swarming over the defenses as the rest of the people fled from the onslaught. The Night's King was overhead, riding on Viserion's back, there had been a great scream and then...
Jorah shook himself and left the bed shaken.
...and then death had come for him. Such unspeakable intense cold.
He paced about the small room, If I'm dead then how am I here? More importantly, what happened after I died? His thoughts went to the Queen. He'd been with her for so long, through it all until the dead came for them.
Did you defeat them?
His mind rambled through possibilities. Most not reassuring in the least.
The Lysene girl rolled over in the bed, but didn't awaken. The covers shifted, displaying more of her smooth and enticing skin. Her soft snores rising and falling, the only sound in the room.
He frowned and started to dress, wanting to leave this unnerving vestige of his old life behind.
Again his thoughts came back to the queen. She would be here, in Illyrio Mopatis's manse. Would she remember as well? Does she know what's going on?
He finished dressing and belted on his sword belt. With little time lost, he raced from his room heading out. He knew where he was heading and he had a purpose...
Illyrio Mopatis's manse.
The Queen was there.
And he would return to her as he always did.
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Doreah
She walked swiftly down the street, she had begged to go the market, to do anything to escape from the Magister's manse. She'd volunteered to go and buy whatever supplies the cooks needed extra today...anything to get her out of the manse. It was impossible. Everything was impossible. She stared about seeing old faces that she hadn't seen since the Magister had gifted her to Khal Drogo.
She remembered the Vault. She remembered Xaro Xhoan Daxos. The Khaleesi had locked them in the vault together and left them to die.
She shuddered greatly, that had been a bad way to die. A long way to die...
And yet here she was back in Pentos. She had even seen the Khaleesi walking through he corridors of the manse without a care, looking small and innocent as she had all those years ago. Before Drogo. Before the Dragons. Before all those years of traveling in the dirt. Before all the hardships.
She shuddered again, what trick of the gods was this? Which of the gods would turn back time like this for her?
She came to the first stall she needed and spoke hurriedly to the trader asking for what she wanted, she didn't even haggle with him. She just thrust the money at him and took what was needed.
She moved on quickly, her mind still striving to understand it all. For a short while she lost herself in her task, distracting herself from the madness that threatened to envelop her.
The simplicity of the task at hand helped balance her quivering mind. She slowed down and looked about taking in the fresh air and the noise of the market.
She frowned, the market was quieter than normal. Oh the criers were there, their voices elevated above the others calling out the worthiness of their wares. The mingled voices of the hagglers continued on in the background...but there was a terse edge to everything.
She looked closer at some of the traders and saw disturbed and confused looks in their eyes. She stared about looking for threats or anything that could explain it all, but nothing stood out.
"Doreah!"
She twisted around and turned towards the call. A Dothraki girl was standing a distance away from her. A very familiar, very angry looking Dothraki girl...
It all came tumbling down as she realised who she was looking at.
The Dothraki girl with rage in her eyes was Irri...
She shouldn't recognize me! A panicked part of her mind screamed. Another part recalled the sounds Irri had made as she chocked the life out of her in Qarth.
She dropped the purchases and fled from the market, without a word.
"Get back here you, fucking whore!" she heard Irri screaming at her in Dothraki. The sound of running feet reached her ears.
A second scream of rage came from behind her.
She ran faster.
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She finally stopped running and hid in a small alley, panting and out of breath, she stood there straining to hear, hoping not to hear the sound of running feet.
After many long moments, she heard nothing...
With a sigh of relief she turned around and then jerked back in surprise as the hate filled eyes met hers again.
They stood there for a long minute staring at each other.
"Irri..." she finally manged to say in a pained voice, the memory of Qarth flicking though her mind again. The struggle as she chocked the girl to death.
Pain suddenly blossomed in her stomach and she looked down, to see a dagger sticking out of her stomach, Irri's hand grasped around the handle. The feeling went our of her legs as Irri savagely twisted the dagger and Doreah fell backwards, as with a jerk, the dagger came free of her flesh.
She barely felt it as she fell on the solid ground, she started coughing, as blood began flooding her mouth. She stared up in incomprehension.
Irri spat in her face, the wet globule hitting her eye and blinding her, "Traitor..."
The hazy sight of Irri standing over her with the bloodied dagger in her hand was the last thing she ever saw before darkness claimed her.