The Queen's Mounting Troubles

[Daenerys' POV]

Daenerys woke sooner than usual, at the break of dawn. She found herself unwilling to sleep further, knowing that much had to be done. Irri and Jhiqui, her handmaidens, attended to her person and ensured she looked queenly.

She glanced to the side afterwards, her mind stuck on Edric Storm. His eyes had been like blue waves drawing her in, flickering with purple lightning.

Red Rain rested on her table, its steel safely sheathed. She stepped forward and lightly grasped its hilt, drawing out crimson-red Valyrian Steel. Though a longsword, she did not find it too heavy to swing. It had been one of Edric's conquests, a triumphant victory as Barristan had told.

"Khaleesi, you must be watchful of Valyrian Steel. It can cut an unarmoured man in half with no more than a flick of the wrist. It is known."

"It is known."

Irri had warned her, and Jhiqui confirmed afterward, yet Daenerys knew all too well.

"My brother said that House Targaryen once had two Valyrian Steel swords; Blackfyre and Dark Sister. Aegon the Conqueror had wielded the first, and so did all of the Targaryen Kings after him... until it had been given to a bastard."

It had been Aegon the Unworthy, and even Viserys, for all his love of everything Targaryen, had not been too fond of him.

"What of the other?"

"Great warriors would wield Dark Sister after Aegon the Conqueror's older sister-wive, Visenya... warriors like Aemon the Dragonknight, Baelon the Brave and the Rogue Prince. Both swords have been lost to House Targaryen for many years..."

The Blackfyres had stolen Blackfyre, and their descendants kept it to themselves while Dark Sister was lost to the northern ice past the Wall, so Viserys had told.

Her handmaidens agreed that it was a great loss, though she did not feel too strongly about it. Swords could cut down a couple dozen men, Daenerys thought, yet dragons can bend entire kingdoms.

If she had to choose between her three dragons and those swords, the answer would be obvious. However, she did not deny that having both would be better than either.

She had thought to give Red Rain to one of her own, a man of both skill and loyalty. Ser Jorah had come to mind as a prime candidate. He had been her guardian and advisor from the beginning. Yet it did not feel right to her, least of all now. Ser Barristan hadn't come to her as an enemy…

She sheathed the sword and chose to take it down to the dungeons. As she did so, Daenerys thought of Edric's words. Whether it was a dream with the real him or figment of her imagination, she knew his words carried some truth. 

"Princess."

Ser Barristan called out as she approached, raising his head. Only a couple days had passed since he had arrived and he looked almost as well as he did back then. Daenerys hadn't deprived him of food, finding him to be a great source of knowledge and wisdom.

"Give me the key."

Daenerys instructed in Valyrian, turning to the unsullied guard. He withdrew the key and relinquished it without a moment's hesitation.

"Have you made your mind?"

"I have." Daenerys nodded. "If you are unable to address me as Queen, then what of Khaleesi?"

"I have no argument with that." 

"Then that is our compromise." 

Ser Barristan left his sitting position, bending a knee. Khaleesi was Dothraki for Queen, which meant the same thing to Daenerys. However, for Ser Barristan, it seemed to mean two entirely different things. He couldn't stomach addressing her in the same manner as Edric, even if it meant death.

"What was it that Edric commanded of you, word-for-word?" Daenerys questioned, observing the aged knight.

"He instructed me to find you and return you home."

Daenerys would have found the thought amusing, had she not heard it before.

"And to shield me, if I object?"

"He commanded that I honour my oaths to the Targaryen Kings of the past alongside his own... and shield you," Barristan spoke with a sincere tone, a voice of stern and unwavering honour. "I swore to him that I would return you to your rightful home."

"Your oath might just come true, in time... yet did your King believe that I would not bear any grudges?"

"His Grace likes to see the good in all, even where there is little to find. He did not take you for an enemy, but rather a consequence of his father's actions. A consequence that he sought to mend as best as he could..."

"Your King is mightily idealistic." Daenerys presented him with Red Rain. "Even so, I will accept you as my shield and shield. This sword will be yours once more... for serving my forebears with honour."

"I will not fail you, Khaleesi."

Barristan took the sword after Daenerys landed it on his hands. He had not said Khaleesi the right way, though he would have plenty of practice for it.

"You may rise, Ser Barristan. It is not my wish to tire your knees."

"They do not tire easily."

Daenerys had no reason to doubt him, for he had served so many kings. Kneeling had to be a routine for the knight.

"... Very well, you shall guard me as I go through the petitions-"

"There is one matter that I wish to speak of, Khaleesi." Ser Barristan hastened behind her. "It concerns you."

She glanced back.

"And what would that be, Ser?"

"I have always served with honesty and duty, Khaleesi. Before, I did not find it appropriate to speak on this matter, but now... I feel as if there will never be a better time. Keeping you in the dark on this truth would be a disservice to you, Khaleesi, even if you might not trust my words..."

Daenerys felt her heart quicken, only for a moment.

"Speak."

"I do not know how you will take this, but Jorah Mormont... has been an informer for the Spider."

"..." It was not something she had wanted to hear. That couldn't be true, Daenerys denied, it is nothing more than a lie stirred by Edric Storm to weaken her position...

"Even if this were true, why would you speak on it?" Daenerys deflected. "If Ser Jorah has been informing your King, why would you reveal the spy to me?"

"I thought it would be for the best." Barristan lowered his head. "Though I will admit that His Grace was not fond of the man, nor am I. He is a disgraced lord who sold his honour, lands and title for gold by partaking in slavery."

"This..." Daenerys chuckled, though she felt anger, frustration, confusion, sadness... a myriad of emotions had overwhelmed her. "I must hear the truth from him."

The Hall of Undying had told her that she would be thrice betrayed, once for blood, once for gold and once for love. Mirri Maz Duur had been the first...

Daenerys turned away and hastefully walked all the way to the second highest floor of the Great Pyramid, the Hall. She then called upon the man she had once considered her closest friend, her advisor, her shield, her bear...

He looked on with a dutiful and enamoured expression, ignorant of her fury at him.

"Something has disgruntled you, Your Grace?"

"Speak... and speak only the truth."

Jorah glanced to her side, where Ser Barristan had stood. Did he know? It couldn't be...

"I do not understand." Jorah wore an expression of confusion.

"Ser Barristan has accused you of betraying me," Daenerys explained, eyeing Jorah Mormont. "He says that you were informing my enemies."

"I..."

"Do not deny it with the little honour you have, Ser," Barristan spoke. "You've sent a great many letters and reports to the spider, from the princess' marriage to the Khal, to the death of Viserys, all in between and no doubt much after... all for your royal pardon-"

"Is this true?"

"I... have been faithful to you. I warned you of the poison, I warned you of-"

"You warned me of everyone but yourself." Daenerys gathered her anger, melting away the tears that should have been. "To think that you have been a traitor for so long..."

"I stopped, Your Grace, long ago... when I fell in love with you. My last report had been in Qarth-"

"Qarth?" Daenerys questioned. She hoped it had been further back than that; truly she did. Yet, the more Jorah Mormont spoke, the greater of a hole he dug for himself. "Tell me, good knight... what reward was so great that you would endanger my unborn son?"

"A royal pardon, gold..."

"A royal pardon." Daenerys frowned as she raised herself from her high seat, feeling her blood boil. "A royal pardon?"

"Yes, but... my loyalties lie elsewhere. Even if I had not told them, someone else would have. You know it. You know that you have my heart, Your Grace, I-"

"You dare to speak of love?" Daenerys scoffed.

"I protected you. I fought for you. Killed for you."

Kissed me, she thought, betrayed me.

"Forgive me... you must forgive me."

Daenerys steeled her resolve, shaking her head as Jorah attempted to reach her.

"Do not ever presume to show your face before me again nor speak my name."

The Unsullied guards blocked his path, pushing him back.

"I do not care where you go, whom you serve... only that I do not ever have to see your face again."

"You will have until last light to collect your things and leave Meereen. If you are seen inside the city walls by then, I will have Strong Belwas twist your head off. I will. Believe that."

She turned away from him.

"Remove this liar from my sight."

Strong Belwas had taken him by the arm and dragged the knight away from the hall. The betrayal had stung deeply; she wanted to weep yet could not... she had to be strong.

I am the blood of the dragon, she gathered herself. The dragon does not weep.

She heard the loud cries of all her dragons from outside the Great Pyramid, of rage. Their roars made it sound as if they would soar down and tear Jorah to pieces once he showed himself. Mayhaps that would not be the worst outcome...

She thought for a moment, sighing as she sat back down - sinking into her seat.

He's gone, now...

My father and mother, my brothers, Ser Willem Darry, Drogo who was my sun-and-stars, his son who died inside of me, and now Ser Jorah...

"The Queen has a good heart," Daario remarked, brandishing one of his daggers. "But that one is more dangerous than all the Oznaks and Meros rolled into one. You need not even speak the words, my radiance. Only give the tiniest nod, and your Daario should fetch you back his ugly head."

"Leave him be." Daenerys decided against it. "The scales are balanced now."

Today, she still has an endless number of petitions to hear...

Many of them revolved around the sacking of Meereen and the chaos that had come with it. Most sought their gold returned, which was easy enough to reject but there were more troubling stories. One boy, younger than herself, had come up speaking of how two slaves rose up against his family and killed his father and older brother. His voice broke as he went on, speaking of how both slaves raped and killed his mother. One of the slaves had taken the house for himself while the other joined her as a soldier.

The boy wanted both hanged.

Daenerys, conflicted, had no choice but to deny him. She had declared a blanket pardon for all crimes committed during the sack, nor would she punish slaves for rising against their masters.

The boy had charged her, yet he had slipped on his tokar before going far. She had decided to forgive him, yet, seeing the rage in his eyes, she knew that the harpy had found another son.

More came, speaking of how her dragons had devoured their animals, and she chose to repay them with their worth in gold. Alas, one man remained still.

"It was the black one... it came down from the sky and... and..."

No, Dany felt a shiver, no, no...

They were not the bones of sheep...

They were that of a child.

...

After an entire day of rulings, she looked towards the sky in thought. It felt as if the entire world was slowly crumbling down, bit by bit.

"Humour me, who between us sits the Iron Throne while the other is on the other side of the known world making a poor attempt at ruling some slaver cities?"

She recalled Edric Storm's words of contempt.

And what would you do if you ruled Meereen, Edric Storm? Would your arrows and warhammer find the Sons of the Harpy? Would you even free the slaves or continue their enslavement, becoming the master of masters? What would you do with three dragons who can set your people on fire at a whim?

I am a dragon in a pit of snakes, as you are a black hare surrounded by white rabbits. You have your uncles, the Starks, the loyalty of so many lords... while I am surrounded by enemies in a foreign land.

And yet... if I cannot rule a city, how can I hope to rule Seven Kingdoms?