KHALEESI

  ❛ a dragon is not a slave ❜ - daenerys targaryen        ALL HAIL THE DRAGON latina. she / her. gemini. house targaryen. queen of westeros. gryffindor. rightful queen on the iron throne.  

[edxnwood]

Season 8 GoT

Here’s what I want in season 8 of GoT:

I want Dany to cry. Because she’s been strong for 8 fucking seasons and in the GoT world that means that she’s been strong for 8 fucking years and she deserves a good cry after everything she’s been through. I want Jon to hold her fucking head against him as she cried everything out, trying to hold back every tear that gathers in his eyes because he can’t stand watching the person he loves cry. I want to have a scene parallel from season 2 where it was Dany holding Irri as she cried and season 8 where it’s Jon holding Dany as she cried.  Like a girl needs to cry. And not a single baby tear, I want sobbing, gasping, her face turning red, I want the full works. Like Dany’s been there emotionally for everyone else. Irri collapsed in Dany’s arms. She told Missandei that she would give her a ship if she wished to sail back home. She freed slaves because she knows that even though they never said anything, they’re in pain. She understands some of the pain they felt because she felt like a slave in her brother’s presence. But nobody seemed to ask her, “How are you today?” And Jorah, even though he’s a good advisor and everything, has told her to sell her dragon eggs, to leave her dragons behind even though he knows that Dany’s emotionally attached to them and it’s just like, dude, those are her children you’re talking about! But Barristan has told Dany different things about her oldest brother, like how he liked to sing to others, and that made Dany happy because she knew something different about her brother other than the usual, “he died in the Trident and people stole the rubies from his armor.” Like there’s been few people that she’s gotten soft around, and looking back at it, Jorah wasn’t one of them. We only see her getting soft around him in season 1, season 6 where he had to leave for a treatment, and season 6 when he came back. With Barristan, it was an immediate connection because he knew her brother, you know, and she wanted to know more about him and she couldn’t get that information from Jorah.

- taken from my conversation with @yocalio 

[edxnwood]

When I said I wanted Dany to cry, I DIDNT MEAN THIS

[edxnwood]

4. GREY WORM

( road to yunkai )

"THESE ARE THE ONES?" Dany walks up to Missandei, a man from her original khalasar taking the reins of her white mare. They were on their way to Yunkai, also known as the Yellow City, as it was known for its yellow bricked buildings. Their main exports are bed slaves, boy-whores, and worse.

"Yes, Khaleesi. The officers." The small group of Unsullied march up to them, stopping within a few feet of the two women. Dany addresses the officers. "Keso glaesot iderēptot daor. Yn dāeri vali sīr issi. Se dāeri vali pōntalo syt gaomoti iderēbzi. Jenti jevi jemēle iderēbilātās, qogrondo jevo hēdrȳ?" (You did not choose this life. But are free men now. And free men make their own choices. Have you selected your own leader from amongst your ranks?) They all move aside to let the lone man be seen digging his spear into the sand. He had colored skin, almost the color of the coffee Daenerys' brother used to drink in the morning with Illyrio, perhaps a shade darker. "Nādīnagon aōha gelte." (Remove your helmet.)

He unties the straps in the bottom that held it to his head, then takes hold of the top and takes it off, walking towards his leader. "Bisy emagon se rigle." (This one has the honor.)

"Skoroso jemēle brōzā?"  (What is your name?)

"Turgon Nudho," he answers. (Grey Worm.)  

"Turgon Nudho?" Dany asks, turning her head towards Missandei, wanting her to explain as to why this man has the name of Grey Worm. "All Unsullied boys are given new names when they are cut," the younger girl reveals. "Grey Worm, Red Flea, Black Rat. Names that remind them what they are: vermin."

Dany doesn't want to let her own soldiers think that they are vermin; they are not, they are human beings. "Hēzīr, brōza jevi jemēle iderēbilātās. Mentyri idañe jevi ivestrilātās keskydoso gaomagon. Gadbag aōhe qrīdrughās. Muñar aōt teptas lue brōzi, iā mirre tolie iderēbās. Avy hoskas lue brōzi." (From this day forward, you will choose your own names. You will tell all your fellow soldiers to do the same. Throw away your slave name. Choose the name your parents gave you, or any other. A name that gives you pride.)

"'Torgo Nudho' hokas bezy. Sa me broji beri. Ji broji ez bezo sene stas qimbroto. Kuny iles ji broji meles esko mazedhas derari va buzdar. Y Torgo Nudho sa ji broji ez bezy eji tovi Daenerys Jelmazmo ji teptas ji derve." ('Grey Worm' gives this one pride. It is a lucky name. The name this one was born with was cursed. That was the name he had when he was taken as a slave. But Grey Worm is the name this one had the day Daenerys Stormborn set him free.)  

Daenerys was shocked that they had accepted her, but even more shocked that he wanted to keep his vermin name. They never spoke or showed emotions, but they all believed in Daenerys, dragons or none because she was a goddess come down to save them from the horrors of the masters.

( gates of yunkai )

"Yunkai," Ser Barristan says as he, Daenerys, Jorah, Grey Worm, and a few Unsullied soldiers walked closer to the edge of the hill that overlooked the Yellow City. "The Yellow City." Flies buzzed around, the two Unsullied stopping a few meters down from where the others were going. "The Yunkish train bed slaves, not soldiers. We can defeat them on the field with ease."

"But they won't meet us on the field," Jorah contradicts his statement, looking back at the gates. "They have provisions, patience, and strong walls. If they're wise, they'll hide behind those walls and chip away at us, man by man."

"I don't want half my army killed before I've crossed the Narrow Sea."

"We don't need Yunkai, Khaleesi," Jorah shakes his head at her. "Taking this city will not bring you any closer to Westeros or the Iron Throne." Don't need Yunkai? Dany thought. There are slaves in that city, wordlessly crying for help, and if we do nothing, then they will continue to cry. But of course, the elders would be used to it and would have stopped crying and pleading a long time ago. Because people learn to love their chains. "How many slaves are in Yunkai?" She asks softly.

"200,000. If not, more."

Dany looks at him through her thick eyelashes, the sun beating down upon them. "Then we have 200,000 reasons to take the city." She turns to Grey Worm. "Va oktio remȳti vale jikās. Belmurtī ivestrās kesīr pōnte jiōrinna se pōjon obūljarion mazōrīnna. Lodaor hēnkos vējose hae Astapor Yunkai botilza." (Send a man to the city gates. Tell the slavers I will receive them here, and accept their surrender. Otherwise, Yunkai will suffer the same fate as Astapor.) Grey Worm nods down at her, turning around to call for a trusted soldier.

( a short while later )

The Unsullied lining the roads raise their shields in a warning, a Yunkish soldier beating on a drum rhythmically as he walks in front of the others, slaves carrying a large pedestal adorned with gold and red ornaments. Dany changed her blue dress to a white one, which had a thick black belt and a ring attached around her neck. A tent had been put up in the time it took for them to arrive, holding an elaborate chair that Dany now sat upon.

The pedestal was put on the ground, and the master inside of it climbs out, wearing a white robe with blue and yellow detailing. "Now comes the noble Razal mo Eraz of that ancient and noble house, master of men and speaker to savages, to offer terms of peace." Rhaegal screeches at the man as he approaches, Drogon purring like a cat as he got his head scratched by Dany. Viserion sat on top of a rod. When he gets too close, though, Drogon lets out a louder cry, showing him all his pointed teeth. Razal stops in his spot. "Noble lord, you are in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons."

"You may approach," Dany says, gesturing to the cleared spot in front of her. "Sit." A Dothraki woman places a smaller chair in front of Razal, Missandei getting a kettle and a vessel to pour the drink in. "Will the noble lord take refreshment?" She asks him, only to get a small nod in response. Silence passes as he sips at the drink, and he sets the cup down as he swallows what was in his mouth.

"Ancient and glorious is Yunkai," he states. "Our empire was old before dragons stirred in Old Valyria. Many an army has broken against our walls," Dany reaches into a small pot to get a piece of raw meat, "you shall find no easy conquest here, Khaleesi." Daenerys throws the meat into the air, the three dragons immediately spreading their wings and flying to catch it, fighting with each other like siblings. The master jumps back.

"Good, my Unsullied need practice as I was told to blood them early."

"If blood is your desire, blood shall flow. But why? Tis true you have committed savageries in Astapor, but the Yunaki are a forgiving and generous people." He claps twice and four men carrying two different chests come forward. "The Wise Masters of Yunkai have sent a gift for the Silver Queen." In one of the chests that were opened were bars of gold that filled the wood to the brim, Dany looking up at her advisors. "There is far more than this awaiting you on the deck of your ship."

"My ship?"

"Yes, Khaleesi. As I said, we are a generous people. You should have as many ships as you require."

"And what do you asked in return?"

"All we ask is that you make use of these ships. Sail them back to Westeros where you belong, and leave us to conduct our affairs in peace," Dany looked down at the slaves to see that they were kneeling, a knee on the ground and holding their upper bodies up with their hands, heads bowed. "I have a gift for you as well," she says. "Your life."

"My life?"

"And the lives of your Wise Masters, but I also want something in return. You will release every slave in Yunkai, every man, woman, and child shall be given as much food, clothing, and property as they can carry as payment for their years of servitude. Reject this gift, and I shall show you no mercy."

"You are mad, we are not Astapor or Qarth, we are Yunkai, and we have powerful friends who would take great pleasure in destroying you. Those who survive we shall enslave once more. Perhaps we'll make a slave of  you as well." Drogon screeches at him from his place, stopping Razal in his place. "You swore me safe conduct."

"I did, but my dragons made no promises. And you threatened their mother."

"Take the gold," Razal commands the slaves, the men coming to their feet, watching the dragon with fear in their eyes, watching to see what he would do. Drogon jumps down onto the table, knocking down a bowl of grapes, screeching at the men, making them jump back and scream. "My gold," Dany raises her eyebrows. "You gave it to me, remember? And I shall put it to good use, you'd be wise to do the same with my gift to you. Now get out." Razal leaves, fuming Valyrian words under his breath.

"The Yunkish are proud people, they will not bend."

"And what happens to things that don't bend? He said he had powerful friends, who was he talking about?"

"I don't know," Jorah shakes his head.

"Find out." Drogon jumps towards his mother, expecting a head rub from her, and purs when her hand touches his cheek. What happens to things that don't bend? Dany thought.

They break.

[edxnwood]

Of Dragons and Vikings

Of Dragons and Vikings - Part One

Warnings: Smut, oral sex, Hvitserk & Ivar (yes, they are warnings themselves), threesome

Characters: Hvitserk x Daenerys, Ivar x Daenerys, Hvitserk x Daenerys x Ivar

Summary:  Ivar and Hvitserk land in Dragonstone, and upon a few weeks of meeting the famed Dragon Queen, share her in their chambers.  

Dedication: @bonniebird

A few weeks prior, two Vikings had made their way to Dragonstone, seeming confused and dazed. There they met Daenerys Targaryen, who was taking a walk on the beach with two of her Dothraki flanking her sides, and Hvitserk, being the charmer he is, began to sweet talk the queen. Ivar was more reluctant to talk to her, not knowing what she had the power to do. After all, he had seen the three large dragons flying over the water, their bodies darkened by the setting sun beyond them. One of them, the largest one, dived into the water and within a few seconds came back up with something trapped between its razor-sharp teeth. He threw it up in the air, burned it with its breath, caught it again, and flew towards the mainland to eat his fresh meal. That's when Hvitserk saw it too and almost passed out from shock.

Now they've been stuck on the island for three weeks, always walking with Dothraki at their sides, not protecting them, but the queen. Their weapons were taken away, stashed in some deep part of the castle that only the guards and Daenerys knew about.

At least she gave them proper chambers, food, baths, and clothing.

The Ragnarsson brothers were pouring over battle plans when a knock was heard from their door. Hvitserk stood and walked over, opening it to see Dany standing regally, hands holding three mugs of mead, a drink that she had an Unsullied transport when they came back from King's Landing. "I hope you're thirsty," she says before barging in, handing Hvitserk one of the mugs and giving the other to Ivar, who just nodded up at her before taking big gulps. Dany looked at the maps strewn over the table. "Why have you come here?" Ivar is the first to break the silence between all of them.

"I just wanted to see how my guests were doing," Daenerys replied cooly, tearing her attention away from the papers. "What are these about?" She touched them, locking eyes with the cripple.

"Maps, what else?"

"I know what they are," Dany seethes. "I just want to know what you're doing with them." Hvitserk hangs his head, staring into the mug before answering, "Battle plans for once we return to our homeland. We're going to take York." Dany nods, not wanting to ask what York was, seeing as they apparently came from a different land with different sets of rules and different customs and different gods. Gods. She believed in them but never had faith in them. After all, they did claim everybody she cared for - minus her brother Viserys. He deserved to be killed. "When are you planning to take it?" she asks timidly. "As soon as you let us free," Ivar returns, throwing his empty vessel over his shoulder, some of the drink that clung to the gold spilling over the cot and floors as it flipped in midair, landing with a clang against the wall. "Hm," Dany hums, "I see." She sits on the chair Hvitserk once preoccupied.

"Why have you come here besides to give us some mead?"

Dany raises the vessel to her lips as she answers, "Take off your clothes. Both of you." The Ragnarssons look at each other, shocked that this woman was commanding them to strip for her. Hvitserk is the first to unlace his tunic, as each night since meeting Daenerys he dreamt of having her on top of him, moaning and swearing to the gods as his cock was stuffed deep between her legs. Dany smiles into her drink as Ivar follows suit, untying the binds on his legs for easier pant removal. They stand before her, naked, both cocks hardening as they watched her place her mug down, her small hands coming up to unzip her dress, her breasts pulling apart slowly as the tight bodice releases them. The zipper stops at her stomach, where Dany then brushes off the sleeves down her arms, down her body the dress goes, leaving her in the pants she always wore in case she needed to flee. Hvitserk takes Dany's left breast in his hand, testing the weight and feel of them, and sees that they are firm but slightly heavy. Breasts that have dried up after giving birth to a child. Ivar reaches over and tugs Daenerys' pants down, her pink lower lips coming into view as she lifts her feet from her boots and her legs out of her pants. Ivar runs his pointer finger through Daenerys' cunt, feeling the wetness that collected from the lust that ran through the queen's body.

The silver-haired beauty moved softly as she catches Hvitserk's lips with her own, wrapping a hand around his stiff cock, rubbing her thumb along the head to collect the precum that was collecting on the tip. Her eyes screwed shut when she feels Ivar's tongue touch her clit, giving her a taste before delving into her lips. Some of her grool ran down his chin, making it slick as he gave her kitten licks. His own hand came down to touch himself, using the hand that had experimentally touched her, her slick coating him enough to let him rub himself without any friction.

"Stop," she tells Ivar, pulling his face away from her, not wanting to wait for him to stuff himself between her legs. She walks over to the bed, leading Hvitserk towards it, showing that she wanted him in front of her so she can suck him off. This was possibly one of the dirtiest things that she has ever done, seeing as she's only been with two men in her life, and enjoyed them separately. She lays on her stomach so Ivar could use his arms to move against her, Hvitserk's cock right in front of her face, begging to be touch, precum weeping from the slit on his tip. She feels Ivar's warm body on top of her, laying on her smaller body, his stiff cock laying between her ass cheeks, rubbing himself against both her cunt and her asshole. Dany's hand comes up to grasp Hvitserk's hard-on, rubbing it up and down in one fluid motion, drawing soft moans from the blonde's lips. She leans forward and touches her tongue to the head, Ivar taking himself in his hand, lining up with Daenerys' weeping quim, and pushes himself in. Margrethe can go fuck a horse, Ivar thought as Dany mewled at his intrusion, smirking as he brought a hand down to smack her cheek.

Dany hollowed her cheeks as she pushed herself to continue sucking Hvitserk off, enjoying the taste of him and the soft groans he let out. Ivar leaned his head on her shoulder when he felt her squeeze around him, groaning at the new feeling. Margrethe probably had a loose cunt anyways from how many men had fucked her. Dany, though, had a cunt that was made for a goddess, one that was still as tight as a newly fucked virgin's. She let go of the cock in her mouth with a whimper, her hand still rubbing it as Ivar hit a spot in her that hasn't been touched in years, a spot that Daario has never reached despite bedding him for years.  "Oh gods, Ivar," she moans he hits that spot again, her free hand coming back to reach him, her fingers tightening into his hair. Ivar kissed her shoulder before biting it, releasing his own sounds of pleasure into her ear.

"C'mon," Hvitserk tugs Dany's head back up, stuffing his cock into her willing mouth again. He rocks his hips, ready to fuck her face if he needed to, but right now he was just setting a slow pace for both of them. The moans leaving Daenerys' lips vibrated around his cock, leaving him cursing to the gods about how this woman's beautiful lips looked so good around him. When Ivar hit the same spot again, Dany let out a quiet scream, pleasure taking over her as she came, cum gushing out of her like a waterfall. Her cunt squeezes into a death grip around Ivar, who bites her shoulder, breaking a little bit of skin as he came inside her, slowing his hips as he let ribbon after ribbon of hot cum stream into her pussy. Daenerys' scream triggered Hvitserk's orgasm, and he pulled out of Dany's mouth fast enough to let the first ribbon of cum land on her face, his hand rubbing himself as he came, each new ribbon landing on the queen's face, her mouth open to eagerly catch any that dripped down her face or landed on her tongue. She swallowed whatever had landed on her tongue with a smile.

"My turn, Ivar."

[edxnwood]

That one moment you get a notification on your profile

When it’s just an announcement

[edxnwood]

Daenerys Targaryen isn't the one to give birth to the Stallion who Mounts the World, she is the Stallion who Mounts the World.

[edxnwood]

Season 8 GoT

Here’s what I want in season 8 of GoT:

I want Dany to cry. Because she's been strong for 8 fucking seasons and in the GoT world that means that she's been strong for 8 fucking years and she deserves a good cry after everything she's been through. I want Jon to hold her fucking head against him as she cried everything out, trying to hold back every tear that gathers in his eyes because he can't stand watching the person he loves cry. I want to have a scene parallel from season 2 where it was Dany holding Irri as she cried and season 8 where it's Jon holding Dany as she cried.  Like a girl needs to cry. And not a single baby tear, I want sobbing, gasping, her face turning red, I want the full works. Like Dany's been there emotionally for everyone else. Irri collapsed in Dany's arms. She told Missandei that she would give her a ship if she wished to sail back home. She freed slaves because she knows that even though they never said anything, they're in pain. She understands some of the pain they felt because she felt like a slave in her brother's presence. But nobody seemed to ask her, "How are you today?" And Jorah, even though he's a good advisor and everything, has told her to sell her dragon eggs, to leave her dragons behind even though he knows that Dany's emotionally attached to them and it's just like, dude, those are her children you're talking about! But Barristan has told Dany different things about her oldest brother, like how he liked to sing to others, and that made Dany happy because she knew something different about her brother other than the usual, "he died in the Trident and people stole the rubies from his armor." Like there's been few people that she's gotten soft around, and looking back at it, Jorah wasn't one of them. We only see her getting soft around him in season 1, season 6 where he had to leave for a treatment, and season 6 when he came back. With Barristan, it was an immediate connection because he knew her brother, you know, and she wanted to know more about him and she couldn't get that information from Jorah.

- taken from my conversation with @yocalio 

[yourwisehistory]

Dame Emma Thompson doing her best to keep Emilia warm

[edxnwood]

3. DRACARYS

LISTEN TO THIS AS YOU READ: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=msOfnA-_BQY

( a few days later, astapor )

THE GATES OPEN TO LET Dany and her entourage in, the Targaryen wearing the same blue dress as before, but a cape was added on, its hood falling down her back while the right shoulder was thrown over her joint. Missandei wore a similar thing, but in white with blue accents. Jorah and Barristan were behind them, with some Dothraki carrying a cage that held Drogon. The translator seemed to have grown in confidence since Dany released her from Kraznys, holding her head up as high as her Queen held hers, all of them walking through the crowd that led towards Kraznys. "The master says they are untested," Missandei translates. The master. She no longer calls him Master Kraznys, as he was no longer her master. She now had a Queen who barely knew her but treated her with as much respect as a highborn lady.

"He says you would be wise to blood them early," she continues. "There are many small cities between here and there, cities ripe for sacking. Should you take captives, the masters would buy the healthy ones and for a good price. And who knows? In ten years, some of the boys you send may be Unsullied in their turn. As all shall prosper." Dany keeps to herself, her chin raised in understanding before turning her back to walk towards the cage that sat at the bottom of the ramp. As she unties the leather straps from the top from the door, people crane their necks to view what's inside, gasps being heard all around.

She finally gets them undone and slowly opens the cage, Drogon's head peeking out from it, letting out a screech as he looks around at the crowd. He unfurls his wings from his body, letting out another cry, and lifts himself off, his wings beating down, wind moving Dany's cape. She begins walking towards Kraznys, the master smirking at the sight before him.

His eyes come down for a bit, eyeing the baton in Dany's hand, then snatches it, feeling the sheer strength the dragon had in his wings. He hands over the whip, a gold harpy on top of it, and Daenerys look down on it with hatred, feeling unclean as she took it in her hands. "Is it done then?" She asks. "They belong to me?"

"He says it's done. You hold the whip." Kraznys adds something that Missandei does not translate in fear of getting in trouble with Daenerys. Her eyes come up from the whip to Kraznys, understanding all that he said, and turns away from him and her beloved Drogon, who cries out in fear and longing as his mother walks away from him, ignoring his pleas. Jorah watches her in curiosity; Daenerys has never been one to ignore her dragons. "Dovaogēdys!" (Unsullied!) They all put up their shields in unison, a large clang in the crowd. "Naejot memēbātās!" (Forward march!)

They all began marching forward in unison again like they all haunted the same body. "Kelītīs!" (Halt!) They stop.

Kraznys tells Missandei to tell her her beast won't come, but before Missandei could say anything, Daenerys turns around, "Zaldrīzes buzdari iskos daor." (A dragon is not a slave.) Everyone is shocked, Kraznys asking her if she speaks Valyrian. "Nyke Daenery Jelmāzmo hen Targārien lentrot, hen Valyria Uēpo ānogār iksan. Valyria muños ēngos ñuhys issa," she fumes, beyond angry at the number of slaves this man had, turning towards her new army. "Dovaogēdys! Āeksia ossēnātās, menti ossēnātās, qilōni pilos lue vale tolvie ossēnātās, yn riñe dōre ōdrikātās. Urnet luo buzdaro tolvio belma pryjātās!" (I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, of the blood of Old Valyria. Valyrian is my mother tongue. Unsullied! Slay the masters, slay the soldiers, slay every man who holds a whip, but harm no child. Strike the chains off every slave you see!)

A man steps out of formation, raising his spear and impaling it through the heart of one of the masters, the man grabbing onto the wooden pole. Kraznys begins to yell for his men to kill Daenerys, but the Targaryen turns around, letting out the one command that could burn cities to the ground. "Dracarys." Drogon stops struggling against his chain, locking eyes with the master that held him, and with a deep breath, let out a large flame. The master begins screaming, letting go of the dragon's baton, Drogon flying him above the walls surrounding Astapor.

The Unsullied get their spears into a ready position, already siding with Daenerys after seeing her able to command such a mighty creature. As Dany watches everything, Drogon burns the flags stationed behind her, up on the walls of Astapor.

( some time later, astapor )

Jorah walked through the ashes and smoke, Kraznys' burned body on the ground next to his feet, Daenerys's body slightly illuminated by the sun high in the sky beside her. Without a word, she walks off.

( courtyard, astapor )

She walks through the Unsullied, eyeing them with wide eyes, before catching sight of her white mare, his reins in the hand of one of her new soldiers. She steps up to him, taking the reins in her hand and using the foot supports of the saddle to lift herself up on the horse's back, her head still turning to look at the Unsullied. She opens her mouth to speak into the void of silence. "Jevo glaesoti rȳ buzdari istiat. Kesy tubi jemot dāervi tepan. Henujagon jaelza lua vala mirre henujagon kostas, se daorys ziry ōdrikilza. Jemot kivio ñuhe tepan. Yne sytivīlībilāt? Hae dāero valoti?" (You have been slaves all your life. Today you are free. Any man who wishes to leave may leave, and no one will harm him. I give you my word. Will you fight for me? As free men?)

All is quiet.

One man begins to pound the end of his spear into the ground, echoing all around the courtyard for all to hear. Others join him to create one uniform sound, until everyone was doing it, a silent cry of solace, a wordless cry of loyalty.

( outside astapor's gates )

Daenerys leads the Unsullied, Barristan, Jorah, and Missandei riding behind her, the soldiers walking towards the next city. Drogon, Viserion, and Rhaegal flew above them, night beginning to fall upon the thousands upon thousands of men. Daenerys looks at the gold harpy topped whip in her hand with disgust and hatred before throwing it onto the ground, sand flying around it as it touched the ground.

The soldiers behind her stepped on it in defiance, pounding it deeper into the dirt. They were now free and able to make their own choices without punishment, and their first choice was to follow Daenerys Targaryen.

[edxnwood]

2. WALK OF PUNISHMENT

( a few days later, astapor )

IT WAS A BRIGHT AND SUNNY MORNING, seagulls squawking, the sky a bright, cloudless blue, and the smell of the ocean was quite comforting. But men were chained to posts, blood streaking down their tanned chests, their heads supported by the collars attached to the post behind them. "The Walk of Punishment is a warning, Your Grace," Barristan tells the Targaryen as they walk past them.

"To whom?"

"To any slave who contemplates doing whatever these slaves did," he explains, and they stop at one of them. "Give me your water," Dany holds out her hand to Jorah, but her violet eyes were stuck on the young boy, how his dark skin made the red of his blood even redder than normal.

"Khaleesi, this man has been sentenced to death," he gives her his water pouch nonetheless. She takes it and walks up to the slave, "Here, drink." She holds it up to his lips, waiting for him to take a sip of the cool water, but he just shakes his head at her. He wants to die quicker than he's already dying.

"Leave this place, Your Grace," Barristan calls up to her. "Leave this place tonight, I beg you."

"And what is she to do for soldiers?" Jorah asks.

"We can find sellswords in Pentos and Myr," Barristan replies as Dany walks down the steps, her silver hair fluttering in the wind. "Is it we already, Ser Barristan?" Jorah remarks, already taking to offense that this man, who they barely knew, just showed up and tod Dany that he wanted to be on the Targaryen's side again. He could have been sent by Joffrey Baratheon to end Daenerys' life. "If you want to sit on the throne your ancestors built, you must win it," Jorah calls up to her. "That would mean blood in your hands before the thing is done."

"The blood of my enemies," Dany retorts, handing him back his water sack, "not the blood of innocents." She walks off, her blue dress a beacon for Jorah and Barristan to follow.

"How many wars have you fought, Ser Barristan?"

"Three," the older man answers.

"Have you seen a war where innocents die by the thousands?"

Barristan shakes his head, quiet. Jorah remains silent as well, and Dany knew what he was doing. He tried to prove a point that innocent people will get killed, whether she's behind it or not. "I was in King's Landing after the sack, Khaleesi," Jorah begins a story. "You know what I saw? Butchery. Babies, children, old men. More women raped than you can count. There's a beast in every man and it stirs when you put a sword in his hand. But the Unsullied are not men. They do not rape. They do not put cities to the sword unless they're ordered to do so. If you buy them, the only men they'll kill are those you want dead."

"Do you disagree, Ser Barristan?"

"When your brother Rhaegar led his army into battle at the Trident, men died for him because they believed in him, because they loved him, not because they'd been bought at a slaver's auction," he remarks. Rhaegar. Trident. Those two words that made Dany's mind go back to the moments in her sleep where she dreamt of his death. A large warhammer came crashing down upon his chest, rubies flying out of his armor, and men scrambling to get as many as they could hold. Blood dripped from his mouth as he whispered a woman's name. It was in those moments where she would stir in her sleep and mewl, and Loki's arms would wrap tighter around her and tell her everything's alright. "I fought beside the last dragon on that day, Your Grace. I bled beside him."

"Rhaegar fought valiantly," Jorah speaks up. "Rhaegar fought nobly. And Rhaegar died." And Rhaegar died. Flashes of her dream came up again. Suddenly she wished for Loki more than anything, her heart palpitating in her chest, beating a beat so hard against her chest that it was a little hard to calm her breathing, disappointment settling deep into her bones. She should've chosen her husband over the baby and her husband.

"Did you know him well, Ser Barristan?"

"I did, Your Grace," this makes Dany happier. She was talking to someone who actually knew her brother. "Finest man I've ever met."

"I wish I'd known him. But he was not the last dragon." They are walking closer to the temple, where large gold Harpy sat on its roof, watching over the men, women, and children that walked in and out its doors.

( inside, astapor )

"All?" Missandei asks. "Did this one's ears mishear, Your Grace?"

"They did not," Dany answers, standing in front of Kraznys, Missandei, and another man she's caught the name of, Jorah and Barristan flanking her sides. "I want to buy them all." Missandei translates, and Kraznys makes a wise remark about how Dany can't afford them, saying how she thinks she can show them her body and make them give her what she wants. "There are eight thousand Unsullied in Astapor. Is this what you mean by all?"

"Yes. Eight thousand. And the ones still in training as well."

"Master Greizhen says they cannot sell half-trained boys. If they fail on the battlefield, they will bring shame upon all of Astapor."

"I will have them all or take none. Many will fall in battle. I'll need the boys to pick up the swords they dropped."

"Master Kraznys says you cannot afford this. Your ship will buy you one hundred Unsullied because Master Kraznys is generous. The gold you have left is worth ten, but good Master Kraznys will give you twenty." What they didn't know was that Dany understood everything he said, but is saying nothing, a plan already forming in her head as to what she would do. "The Dothraki you have with you. . . The Dothraki you have are not worth what they cost to feed, but Master Kraznys will give you three Unsullied for all of them." Dany looks up and sees slave girls listening in to the conversation. "Master Kraznys asks how you will pay for the remaining 7,877 Unsullied."

Daenerys' eyes come down from watching a young girl, "I have dragons. I'll give you one." While Missandei translates, Jorah's eyes watching his queen in horror, wondering why she would give this man, a man who seems to have insulted her many times, a precious thing. A very powerful, precious creature. "You will win the throne with dragons, not slaves, Your Grace," Ser Barristan tells her.

"Khaleesi, please." Dany doesn't say anything but instead walks towards Kraznys.

"Three? Dragon?"

"One," she seethes.

"Two."

"One." Kraznys sits up and begins talking to Greizhen, where they begin to agree on something and Kraznys begins telling Missandei what to translate. "They want the biggest one."

"Done." When Dany turns around to walk away, she gets an idea and looks over her shoulder at the masters. "I'll take you as well. Now." She faces her entire body to Missandei, seeing her head perk up. "You'll be Master Kraznys' gift to me. A token of a bargain well struck."

( outside, astapor )

"Khaleesi, a dragon is worth more than any army," Jorah tries to persuade her to go back on her word, but she says nothing of her plan, wanting to keep it a secret until the last minute. "Aegon Targaryen proved that," Barristan seconds. Too bad I'm not my ancestor then, Dany thinks, and faces her body towards her advisors. "You're both here to advise me, I value your advice, but if you ever question me in front of strangers again," she becomes agitated, "you'll be advising someone else. Is that understood?"  

"Do you have a name?" Dany asks the translator beside her.

"This one's name is Missandei, Your Grace."

"Do you have a family? A mother and a father you'd return to if you had the choice?"

"No, Your Grace." Finally, Dany found something else that she and Missandei had in common besides being pushed around for most of their miserable lives. "No family living."

"You belong to me now, it's your duty tell me the truth."

"Yes, Your Grace, lying is a great offense. Many of those on the Walk of Punishment were taken there for less." So now Dany had an idea as to what those slaves did for getting chained up, beaten and left for dead. Her heart ached for those. "I offered water to one of the slaves dying on the Walk of Punishment. You know what he said to me?" Missadei's head cocks towards Daenerys, silently telling her she had her full attention. "Let me die."

"There are no masters in the grave, Your Grace."

"Is it true what Master Kraznys has told me about the Unsullied? About their obedience?"

"All questions have been taken from them," Missandei replies, her hands clasping together in front of her. "They obey, that is all. Once they are yours, they are yours. They will fall on their swords if you command it."

"What about you? You know that I'm taking you to war. You may go hungry. You may fall sick. You may be killed."

"Valar Morghulis."

"Yes," they walk under an underpass. "All men must die. But we are not men."

[edxnwood]

1. ASTAPOR

LISTEN TO THIS AS YOU READ: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9hO_8uwK6l8

( balerion, gulf of grief )

DROGON'S CRY PIERCED EVERYONE'S EARS, the black dragon's wing tips breaking the water underneath him as he flew towards the ship his mother sailed in, his brothers flying above one of the yellow sails. He lets out another screech as he willed his wings to take him up higher, Dany's violet eyes watching him, Viserion, and Rhaegal with love. The now fifteen-year-old had her hair up in multiple braids, the silver hair slicked back and out of her face, though she did have a few stray curled pieces hanging from it. Her dress showed off her curves and was a royal blue with black and gold accents, a hole cut out of the back to let her move around easy. Drogon dived into the water, clearly seeing something they didn't, and came out with a fish between his teeth, Dany moving to the right side of the boat where he flew. She stared at him as he threw it up and burned it with his fire, catching it again when he deemed it cooked enough. He came to rest on the banister, trying to swallow the fish in one bite, Daenerys raising her hand to touch him.

"Growing fast," Drogon lets out a small noise that represented love, leaning his growing head on his mother's smooth palm. "Not fast enough," Daenerys replied, letting her hand drop to allow Drogon go to the others again. "I can't wait that long. I need an army."

Jorah nods, "We'll be at Astapor by nightfall. Some say the Unsullied are the greatest soldiers in the world."

Dany faces him, "The greatest slave-soldiers in the world. The distinction means a good deal to some people." Jorah lets out a heavy breath, bowing his head a little but he maintains eye contact with Daenerys. "Do those people have any better ideas about how to put you on the Iron Throne?"

"It's too beautiful a day to argue," Dany responds, avoiding the question entirely, her dragon's screeches behind her and the sound of another man puking to her right. She walks away from the edge and goes to the balustrade that overlooks the main deck. "You're right," Jorah replies. "Another lovely day on the high seas." Dothraki men are seasick, the slight rocking of the boat too much for their inexperienced bodies, some sitting, others leaning against poles, one kneeled on the ground with his breakfast under him. Daenerys felt a great respect for these people as they had never been on a ship and they did for her. "Don't mock them," she told him. "They're the first Dothraki who have ever been on a ship. They followed me across the poison water. If they'll do it, others will, and with a true khalasar "

"The Dothraki follow strength above all, Khaleesi. You'll have a true khalasar when you prove yourself strong. And not before."

( slaver's bay, balerion )

Night was falling, the clouds were tinted orange and the sky was getting darker, a light breeze brushed against Dany's pale skin, her sights set on the land of Astapor straight ahead.

( astapor )

The master of the Unsullied spoke to Daenerys in Valyrian and she understood every word he said, but he did not know that, so he had one of his translators, a slave by the name of Missandei, repeat what he said in the common tongue, he, Dany, Missandei, and Jorah walking along a path that led to where the Unsullied were waiting. Master Kraznyz mo Nakloz held a whip with a golden harpy at the top, the leather thongs stopped right at his shin, his knee continuously hitting it as they walked. "The Unsullied have stood here for a day and a night with no food or water," Missandei translates, the men clad in black armor looking at them with no emotion in their eyes, spears, and shields in hand. Kraznys speaks again, Dany looking at him as they walked into the small fortress, "They all stand until they drop." The master speaks again. "Such is their obedience." The middle row of the Unsullied move away, turning sideways to let a pathway appear between them to let Kraznys, Dany, Missandei, and Jorah walk past without bumping into them, or their master would publicly whip them for touching a highborn person. "They may suit my needs," Daenerys says. "Tell me of their training."

"J'abra Vesterozia las kreni, y ivetras dori rije vaghoma gidhmilas qova j'odre," she tells him. "Ebas gimigho skokydho mazmedhis bodmari." (The Westerosi woman is pleased with them, but speaks no praise to keep the price down. She wishes to know how they are trained.)

"Ivetra zer skure ebilas si adhirikydho," he retorts, the four stepping up to a platform so they could see the little bit of Unsullied that were chosen to show off. "Ji tovi las bani." (Tell her what she would know and be quick about it. The day is hot.) They look down at them, Dany wearing sympathy in her eyes as she sees all these men wearing dark leather stand in the hot sun, most likely sweating underneath their armor, but no one complained. It was what they did. "They begin their training at five. Every day they drill from dawn to dusk until they have mastered the shortsword, the shield, and the three spears. Only one boy in four survives this rigorous training." The master says something else, Dany turning to him. "Their discipline and loyalty are absolute. They fear nothing."

"Even the bravest man fear death," Jorah counteracts, all turning to him as Missandei begins to translate for him, and Kraznys tells her to tell him he smells of piss, and her eyes widen a little. "Zvagizi aeske?" She asks, and he snaps at her. (Truly, Master?) "Do zvagizi! Ska tala ja hubre pindagho kuno masino?" He returns, hurting the young girl's feelings. (No, no truly! Are you a girl or a goat to ask such a thing?)

"My master says the Unsullied are not men," Missandei says, bowing her head. "Death means nothing to them. "He begs you attend to this carefully, Your Grace." Kraznys marches to a slave-soldier, Missandei taking his place beside Daenerys, and the Khaleesi notices that she's not wearing any shoes, and she keeps moving her toes to stop her feet from burning on the hot stones. Kraznys mo Nakloz orders one of the soldiers to come forward, and the man does, letting his master move his shield and spear away from his body, take his dagger from the sheath, and unbutton a small flap on the right shoulder, exposing a brown nipple. "Tell the good master there is no need —"

Kraznys interrupts her, digging the edge into the man's chest and begins to cut around the dust rose-colored bud, Daenerys looking away as blood began to pour out, little by little, and the master says something about how they've castrated the boys. "My master points out that men don't need nipples," Missandei says. The soldier begins to say as to how he was pleased to serve his master and joins his brothers, Kraznys turning towards Dany and begins to speak. "To win his shield, an Unsullied must go to the slave-mart with a silver mark, find a newborn, and kill it before its mother's eyes." Newborn killers, Dany thought as she looked all around, seeing the blank faces of the men under the masks. "This way, my master says," Missandei continues, "we make certain there is no weakness left in them."

"You take a babe from its mother's arms, kill it as she watches, and pay for her pain with a silver coin?" As someone who had a miscarriage, Dany wasn't taking this lightly, and Missandei translates about how she was offended.

"My master would like you to know that the silver is paid to the baby's owner, not the mother."

Kraznys watches Dany with a sadistic smile, awaiting her reaction to the new information. "How many do you have to sell?" With eight fingers, he silently tells Missandei the number.

"Eight thousand." Eight thousand, Dany thought. If she could get more Dothraki to follow her, and her dragons grew bigger, she would be perfectly fine to take back the Iron Throne. "Master Kraznys asks that you please hurry: many other buyers are interested." The Unsullied move out of the way for their master, creating an empty path down the middle for him and rejoining once he gets out of the way.

( some time later, astapor )

"Eight thousand dead babies," Daenerys says again when she walks beside Jorah, and the older man already has words coming out of his mouth; that's what Daenerys liked about him. He always had something to say as soon as she said another thing.

"The Unsullied are a means to an end," he responds, his hand on the hilt of his sword. Seagulls squark in the background, diving into the salty water of the sea to catch their meals.

"Once I own them, these men —"

"They're not men, not anymore," a seagull dives right above their heads, missing Jorah by a few inches. The come to a stop above the courtyard, where enslaved men, women, and children worked or played, masters keeping them at bay by standing around the edge. "Once I own an army of slaves, what will I be?" She continues on, pretending as if she did not hear Jorah's remark.

"Do you think these slaves will have better lives serving Kraznys and men like him or serving you?" He asks her, and they watch a young girl with pale skin and blond hair play with a small sphere, throwing it up in the air then catching it in her small hands. The question makes Dany think real hard as she watches her. She certainly wouldn't want to treat others the way her brother treated her all her life. They move towards the stairs and the little girl runs away. A black hooded figure walks behind them, their head down to avoid attracting any attention to themselves. "You'll be fair to them. You won't mutilate them to make a point. You won't order them to murder babies. You'll see them properly fed and sheltered. A great injustice has been done to them. Closing your eyes will not undo it."

They finally catch up to the young girl, who holds out the sphere to Dany like a prized possession, and when she knows that she has the Targaryen's full attention, she rolls it over. Dany reaches down and picks it up, looking back at the girl, who motions her to unscrew its top. Daenerys chuckles and goes to open it, but the hooded figure hits her arm, causing her to drop it, and the girl runs off and Dany lets out a cry when she falls with the sphere.

Jorah has the man by the neck, his sword at the neck. The orb opens and a creature crawls out, and Dany is paralyzed in fear. It charges towards her, but a dagger comes down on the thing and immediately kills it. He charges towards the girl, but she jumps over a ledge and disappears out of thin air. He sheaths his dagger and turns back to the foreigners. "The warlocks," Daenerys says to Jorah once he helps her up, then she walks towards the stranger. "I owe you my life, ser."

"The honor is mine," his hands come up and removes his hood to reveal an old man with white hair and a wrinkled face, "My Queen."

"You know this man?"

"I know him," Jorah nods, "as one of the greatest fighters the Seven Kingdoms has ever seen and as the Lord Commander of Robert Baratheon's Kingsguard."

"King Robert is dead," the man moves towards them. "I've been searching for you, Daenerys Stormborn, to ask your forgiveness. I was sworn to protect your family. I failed him." He kneels, his eyes still locked on hers. "I am Barristan Selmy, Kingsguard to your father. Allow me to join your Queensguard. And I will not fail you again." He bows his head.

[edxnwood]

MHYSA ▹L. LAUFEYSON [3]

❝ People learn to love their chains. ❞

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COPYRIGHT © EDXNWOOD 2018

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. NO PART OF THIS PUBLICATION MAY BE REPRODUCED, DISTRIBUTED, OR TRANSMITTED BY ANY FORM OR BY ANY MEANS, INCLUDING PHOTOCOPYING, REWRITING, HE OR OTHER ELECTRONIC OR MECHANICAL METHODS, WITHOUT THE PRIOR WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE PUBLISHER, EXCEPT IN THE CASE OF BRIEF QUOTATIONS EMBODIED IN CRITICAL REVIEWS AND CERTAIN OTHER NONCOMMERCIAL USES PERMITTED BY COPYRIGHT LAW. I DO NOT OWN DAENERYS, THE GAME OF THRONES PLOT, BESIDES THE PLOTS THAT I MAKE UP ALONG THE WAY, AND I DO NOT OWN LOKI AND THE THOR MOVIES.

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WARNING: THIS BOOK MIGHT FEATURE STRONG CONTENT MEANT FOR MATURE AUDIENCES.

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BOOK THREE OF THE DRAGON MOTHER SERIES.

FEATURES:

GAME OF THRONES SEASON 3

[edxnwood]

9. EPILOGUE

( odin's chambers, asgard )

LAUFEY STANDS BEFORE THE SLEEPING ODIN, "It's said you can still see and hear what transpires around you, even in this state. I hope it's true, so that you may know your death came by the hand of Laufey." He raises his blade above Odin's body when a burst of energy hits him from behind. As the Jotun King falls to the ground, it is not Thor standing behind him, but Loki, who was holding Gungnir in his hands. "And your death came by the son of Odin."

Laufey dies as the other two shocked Jotuns move towards him, but the trickster fires the staff again, hitting one in the chest and he flies into a wall, but the other Brute is still heading towards him. He is nearly upon him when he stops, eyes wide, then falls to the ground. Frigga was standing behind him, a sword stuck into the Frost Giant's back. She looks at Loki, then takes him into her arms, "I swear to you, mother, they will pay for what they've done today. I will end the Jotun threat, now and forever!" He looks at Odin. "And I will make you proud." Loki savors the moment, but it's shortlived as Thor bursts in. He's thrown by the scene before him -- Odin safe, Laufey and two Jotuns dead, Frigga regarding Loki with pride and respect. Stunned and delighted to see her oldest son, the mother beams. "Thor!" She moves to him and hugs him, but the god of thunder's eyes remain fixed on his brother, and the darker sibling looks down at Mjolnir in his hand.

"Found its way back to you, did it?"

"No thanks to you," Frigga picks up on the tension between the two, but this time it was more menacing than the tension they both had as kids when one took either a weapon from Thor's hands or a book out of Loki's. "What?"

"Why don't you tell her?" Thor asks Loki. "How you sent the Destroyer to kill our friends? To kill me?" The goddess of love looks at her adoptive son, alarmed and confused. She knew Loki could be somewhat rude, but not to this extent. "Or what about your wife? The little girl from Westeros?" Frigga looked back at Thor. "She was only thirteen when she was sold to you, and you raped her endlessly for weeks on end." Frigga's heart drops, seeing that her son wasn't the innocent little boy he used to be.

"It must have been enforcing Father's last command."

"You're a talented liar, brother. Always have been."

Loki smiles, "It's good to have you back." Then he became serious, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to destroy Jotunheim." He suddenly raises Gungnir, fires it point-blank at Thor, who goes flying backward, smashing through the chamber walls, into. . .

( odin's palace, asgard )

 Thor flies from the blast through another wall on the opposite side of the corridor, to. . .

( palace grounds, asgard )

 Thor plummets from the palace and crashes into the reflecting pools below.

( rainbow bridge, asgard )

Loki speeds on horseback down the Rainbow Bridge, then quickly dismounts and enters the Observatory.

( observatory, asgard )

Loki operates the Observatory's controls. The massive turret spins, pointing at the general direction of Jotunheim.

( palace grounds, asgard )

Thor awakens to the sound of the Bifrost. He stands, sees the Observatory firing the Bifrost energy into space. He looks to where the Bifrost is aimed. "Jotunheim," he whispers.

( rainbow bridge, asgard )

Thor soars on the winds above the Rainbow Bridge, the Bifrost energy roaring through it, feeding into the Observatory. He lands before the huge doorway.

( observatory, asgard )

Thor enters, shielding his eyes from the brilliant light of the Bifrost energy blasting towards Jotunheim. He looks over to the controls, seeing that they're frozen in an enormous block of ice, meaning that either the Jotuns froze it, or Loki used the Casket of Ancient Winters. The trickster stands atop it. "All these years and no one's ever dared to use it as a weapon." Thor hurries to the ice, raises his hammer to smash through it to get to the controls frozen within, but before he can, Loki fires Gungnir. The blast hits the ice in front of Thor, sending him back across the floor. Loki steps down from the ice as the thunder god staggers to his feet. " You can't stop it. The Bifrost will build until it rips Jotunheim apart."

"Why have you done this?"

"To do what Father never could. To destroy their kind forever. When he awakens, he'll see the wisdom of what I've done." That was one of the things Loki has ever wanted: pleasing his father and becoming Thor's equal. He knew he wasn't an equal to him as his hair was a lot shorter, even shorter than Volstagg's! Short hair in the Norse custom meant someone was either a slave or a lower status and seeing that he was from Jotunheim. . . Odin wouldn't want anyone to think he was his successor.

"He won't!" Thor yelled back. "You can't kill an entire race."

"What is this newfound love for the Frost Giants? You, who would have killed them all with your bare hands."

"I've changed."

"So have I," he hits Thor across the face with Odin's spear. "Fight me." He swings Gungnir at Thor again. His brother catches it in his hand, rears back his hammer as if ready to return the blow, but instead takes to the air and flies past Loki, back towards the frozen controls. The trickster spins around, aims the spear, and fires a blast which immobilizes Thor in the air. He hangs there, suspended. "Is the throne really worth what you've done? What you would become?"

"I never wanted the throne. I only wanted to be your equal. Now fight me!" With a gesture of Gungnir, he flings Thor to the ground, who rises to his feet, turning to Loki. "I will not fight you, brother," Thor refuses.

"I am not your brother, never was."

"Loki, this is madness. . ."

Loki grins, "Is it?" He fires Gungnir at him. Thor dodges the blast, rolling to his feet. "What happened to you on earth that turned you so soft? Don't tell me it was a woman." Loki laughs when Thor doesn't answer, realizing that he's right. "It was. Perhaps when we're finished here I'll pay her a little visit myself."That did it. Loki and Thor rush at each other. They and their weapons collide. The two battle ― Loki unleashing years of pent-up rage and jealousy, Thor has no choice but to defend himself. Thor and Loki battle savagely. Loki fires Gungnir, sending Thor sliding across the floor and knocking Mjolnir from his hand, the hammer flies into the Bifrost towards Jotunheim. Thor raises his hand towards his hammer, tries to summon it back to him, to keep it in this Realm, but the Bifrost is too powerful. Mjolnir disappears into the maelstrom as he himself slides towards the Bifrost. "If you care so much for the Jotuns, then die with them."

The Bifrost stretches every cell of Thor's body, trying to drag him away. He's nearly swallowed by the vortex, when he concentrates, mustering his will; He reaches out his hand towards the Bifrost. Mjolnir flies back through the vortex into Thor's hand, pulling him free. Loki tries to fire off another blast at him, but Thor takes to the air, speeding towards his brother. They come crashing through the Observatory dome and land hard, rolling across the Rainbow Bridge. As Thor gets to his feet, he sees Loki dangling off the Bridge's edge. "Thor!" He calls out. "Help me! Please!"  Thor steps over to the side of the Bridge, sees Loki looking up at him desperately. "Please. . ."

Loki's fingers start to slip. Thor reaches down to grab his brother's wrist, but his hand passes through Loki's. Just then, the real Loki materializes behind him. Thor whirls around as he stabs him in the chest with Gungnir. Loki lifts Thor into the air, impaled on the spear, and hurls him across the bridge. Thor, bleeding, rises to his knees. Loki strides up behind him to finish him off when Thor swings his hammer around. It passes through him. Instantly, another Loki appears next to him, the god of thunder swings his hammer, but that too is an illusion. Loki after Loki appears, Thor futilely swinging at each one, never making contact. The blonde falls back to his knees. The Lokis grin as their raises their spears, encircling him. "I was always more clever than you."

"Yet still not clever enough," With that, Thor raises his hammer, rising into the air, summoning lightning. A massive bolt strikes Mjolnir, then channels outwards, splitting up, striking each one of the Lokis. All of them dissipate into nothingness, save one -- the real Loki -- who's sent flying back across the Bridge, Gungnir knocked from his grasp. Thor steps over to his fallen brother, lying dazed on his back. Loki winces, prepares for the worst, when Thor steps away. The trickster opens his eyes, tries to stand, but can't. He looks confused, then sees what the problem is ― Mjolnir rests atop his chest. Struggle as he may, Loki can't lift it off. He's pinned to the ground. Thor looks about him desperately ― at the Bifrost firing towards Jotunheim, gaining in strength, at the surge of energy moving through the Bridge. He's at a loss of what to do. Loki watches him smugly. "Look at you, the Mighty Thor. With all your strength, what good does it do you now?" Thor knows Loki's right. He's powerless to stop what's happening. He looks down at the Bridge beneath his feet, vibrating from the force and speed of the Bifrost energy feeding into the Observatory. Then he gets an idea. He realizes what he must do ― and what he must sacrifice. Thor extends his hand towards Loki, summoning Mjolnir. The hammer goes flying to his grasp. Loki looks confused.

Thor raises Mjolnir in the air. Clouds form above him, thunder rumbling. Lightning arcs off of his hammer, as he channels the power of the storm into it, then he strikes Mjolnir down upon the Rainbow Bridge. The blow is massive, causing a rumbling along the whole bridge, shaking the Observatory itself like an earthquake. A crack appears where the blow struck. Loki rises to his feet. "Stop! What are you doing?" Thor lifts the hammer again, brings it down harder. The crack grows bigger. The Bifrost energy starts to stream out from it. Loki thinks fast. "If you destroy the Bridge, you'll never see her again!" He grabs Gungnir, runs towards him, ready to pierce Thor through the back. "Forgive me," summoning every bit of strength he has left, Thor raises Mjolnir one last time, drawing lightning to it from all sides, and brings it down with a final, terrible blow ― The Bifrost shatters, rainbow energy exploding out of it. Both Loki and Thor are hurled into the air by the force of the blast. A wave of destruction moves forward along the Bridge towards the Observatory, breaking it apart as it goes. The Observatory rips itself apart. As Loki and Thor fall together, Thor grabs hold of one end of Gungnir, while Loki still clutches the other. They both fall towards the massive wave of Bifrost energy which spews out from the broken Bridge. They're an instant from being blasted by the destructive force of the energy, carried away by the current, pulverized by the debris when a powerful hand catches Thor's leg, and he dangles there, holding the spear as Loki hangs on the other end. He looks up to see Odin standing on the edge of the broken Bridge, awakened from the Odinsleep, restored to his full strength. He searches his father's face, looking for some kind of approval, some kind of redemption, but all he sees is disappointment and regret. Loki lets go. "No!"

But it's too late. Odin and Thor can only watch as Loki falls into the rushing torrent of Bifrost energy. It carries him away, along with the debris of the Bridge and the Observatory, disappearing out of sight. Odin pulls Thor up onto the Bridge. Drained, he falls back into his father's arms. "It is over."

( xaro's chambers, qarth )

Xaro was asleep in his plush bed, his large arm thrown back as his fingers rub against the gold bedpost, and it could have been either real gold or pyrite, also known as fool's gold. Doreah was sleeping next to him, both of them naked after a night of tryst, her hand coming up to move her dark hair over her shoulder, and over them stood the few remaining Dothraki, one of them taking his crooked sword and quickly snatching the amulet from Xaro's neck, waking him up. He jumps at the sight of them, Dany coming closer with her baby dragons sitting on her arms. They're all looking at him with angry eyes, sensing that their mother was angry, beyond furious, at the man and woman she thought she could trust. Doreah perks up, holding the sheets up to her bare chest, "Khaleesi, please. He said you'd never leave Qarth alive. I ―"

"Come," was the only thing the Targaryen said before walking away, Drogon letting out an angry cry at the ex-handmaiden. When Xaro threw his bedsheet aside, Jorah immediately points his sword at him, giving him a look that told him to not try anything funny.

( xaro's strongbox, qarth )

The amulet is placed into the matching notch on the safe's door, turned clockwise and when a loud click is heard, they stop, letting them know that it was opened. They pull the door out, ready to see gold and money inside, but when Dany steps closer, it was empty, just a barren room. "Nothing," she purses her lips, then turns to face Xaro. "Thank you, Xaro Xhoan Daxos. Thank you for teaching me this lesson." She nods at two of her bloodriders, who take the prisoners by the arms and begin ushering them into the empty room. "I am King of Qarth," Xaro begins to speak as Dany steps down from the edge. "I can help you now. Truly help you. We can take the Iron Throne. I'll bring you a thousand ships."

"Please, Khaleesi," Doreah begins to plead. "I beg you."

"All that you have dreamed is within your reach!"

"I beg you, Khaleesi! Please, please, please!" Doreah's cries and screams fill the air, and Xaro continues to babble about how he can give Dany everything she's ever dreamed of. The safe is locked behind them and their pleads are cut off.

( xaro's chambers, qarth )

The Dothraki are placing all of the fake gold bowls, cups, and decorations in bags, Jorah overseeing everything to make sure they didn't take any for themselves, but seeing as they were followers of Daenerys, they wouldn't dare cross the dragon mother. "It's all a lie," he says to her when she walks up beside him. They look around them, "Looks real enough to me." Dany takes a gold bowl in her hands. "Real enough to buy a ship?" She raises an eyebrow at him, and he nods.

"Aye. A small ship," he takes it in his hands. Daenerys walks away, Jorah yelling at everyone to take all the gold and jewels, to which everyone cheers, raising the things in their hands in the air. Dany walks past her followers with her dragons in hand, Drogon at her shoulder and Viserion and Rhaegal on her arms, and she nuzzles her forehead to Drogon's neck, and he rubs it to her skin in an affectionate way. She smirks and Drogon lets out a small cry at one of the Dothraki, who was used to it by now.

They were going to go towards Astapor to gain more supporters.

[edxnwood]

8. HOUSE OF THE UNDYING

Again, the quote at the bottom is from the book, so credits to GRRM.

( unknown place, qarth )

DANY LOOKED OUT OF THE broken slats of wood, her violet eyes scanning for any source of Pyat, surrounded by a few trees and broken stones, "Careful, Khaleesi." She looks back at Jorah. "Xaro owns this city and the warlocks have a thousand eyes watching for you." She walks away from the wood, stepping down to the ground from the short staircase she once stood on, her feet leading her beside Jorah as they walked away. "I found one," Dany was confused. "A ship with a good captain. She leaves for Astapor tomorrow."

"Astapor?" Dany asks, stopping.

"We cannot stay here."

"They have my dragons. A mother does not flee without her children." She shakes her head as Jorah places his hands on his hips. "They're not your children," he whispers to her. "I know they call you the Mother of Dragons and I know you love them, but you didn't grow them in your womb. They didn't suckle at your breast. They are dragons, Khaleesi. And if we stay in Qarth, we'll die"

"You should sail to Astapor," Dany retorts, "I'm sure you'll be safe there." She turns around, pausing once she got to the nearest tree.

"You know I would die for you," Jorah responded, making Daenerys' heart stop: She didn't want anyone else to die for her. "I will never abandon you. I'm sworn to protect you, to serve." She faces him again, "Then serve me. If my dragons are in the House of the Undying, then take me there."

"That's what the warlock wants. He told you so himself. If you enter that place, you will never leave again. His magic is strong," he shakes his head at her and Dany already has another question for him. "And what of my magic?" She asks. "You saw me step into the fire. You watched the witch burn. What did the flames do to me? Do you remember?" He nods as he silently replies, "Until my last breath, I will remember. After I have forgotten my mother's face."

Dany gives him a soft look, gloom spreading in her heart for both her and her dragons and Jorah's confession. He was older than her, much older, so it could be a few years before he forgets his mother's face, and she knew how it felt like to never be able to see it. She places a soothing hand on his stubbly cheek, her thumb rubbing against his cheekbone. "They are my children," she whispers. "And they are the only children I will ever have." She looks down before removing her hand from his face, Jorah giving her a sad look after her confession. She still believed the witch's words. "Take me to them."

He only agrees.

( palace grounds, asgard )

Loki stands with Gungnir, surveying his kingdom, when an Einherjar Guard quickly approaches him, out of breath. "My liege, the Warriors Three and the Lady Sif have gone missing." Loki reacts: He knows who's responsible.

( house of the undying, qarth )

Dany walked through the dark corridor of the House of the Undying, her torch lighting the way to wherever she went, her footsteps echoing off the walls. She heard the high pitched screeches of her dragons, the sound coming from the right of the stairwell, at the very top. A gold and wood door stood in her way, and it swung easily when she just put her hand on the knob, a stone pedestal in the center of the barren room. Many corridors circled the room, and she walked to the middle, where a metal gate was on the floor, a whole underneath it, but she couldn't see anything, it was too dark. She heard her dragons again, one long cry for her coming from one of the passages.

She turned in a circle, wondering which one it came out of, and heard them again. It came from one passage to another, and she was beginning to become even more confused and worried, letting out a heavy breath. Where it came from the loudest, she walked over, another wood and gold door standing in her way again, opening as smoothly as the last. A large room was in front of her, one that was even larger than Illyrio Mopatis' house in Pentos, columns with spikes protruding from the bottom decorating the room, stained glass windows making some of the light coming in yellow, snow covering the ground. The wind howled into her ear.

She stepped down the stairs, the fire from her torch flickering, and once she reaches the center of the room she puts it down on the snow. She lifts her hand above her face as she looked up, pale blue light shining in from the broken rooftop, and she lets her hand fall to her side once her eyes got used to the light. She notices the Iron Throne standing in all its glory at the nearest end of the room, and she makes her way over, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She reaches out a hand, ready to touch the cool metal of the molten swords, her fingers uncurling from her palm, but before she could touch it, she heard her children once more, looking away for a second before turning back. She lets her hand drop: her dragons were more important to her than a throne at the moment. She walks away, walking towards the spot where the cries are louder, high pitched and clear as day. A door opens, the stone gate moving upwards to let her out into the winter day, but it isn't cold, which was weird as she read that snow was cold. Her hair whips behind her as the winds of winter picked up, the air thick with the white flurries, not letting her see far ahead, but close instead, her arm shielding her eyes from the stinging little things. Her skin and hair matched the snow, the brown leather bodice was a shade darker and the tunic was two shades darker.

A speck in the distance catches her eye, dropping her arm as she began walking over to it. Her feet left tracks towards the door, and as she got nearer she noticed it was a Dothraki tent with a harpy statuettes holding up the entrance, the leather stirring in the wind. The cold didn't reach the inside, though, when she stepped in and saw that the tent was, in fact, her tent from Vaes Dothrak, her and Loki's belongings still in the place they last had them in, and the sunlight was pouring in in yellow streaks, not blue like the outside. A baby coughed and cooed, catching her attention again, and when she moved forward, she saw Loki with a small dark-haired baby in his arms. His green eyes look up at her when he noticed her presence, "Jalan atthirari anni." (Moon of my life.)

Dany doesn't reply as she walks closer, her eyes wide as she saw her husband well and perfectly fine, carrying their child in his arms. The baby had his hair and slightly darker skin while sporting her violet eyes, cooing again as he moved his arm, moving the blanket up to chew on it. "Jini athmovezar qoyi ven athmovezar fini fich yera anhoon — fini fich yera anhoon hatif. . ." she did not want to believe that he was really here. The warlock was possibly putting a spell on her. (This is dark magic, like the magic that took you from me. Took you from before I could even. . .) "Ishish anha drivak vosma anha ray nesok mae vos. Ishish anha ma yeroon she Rhaeshi Ajjalani." ( Maybe I am dead and I just don't know it yet. Maybe I am with you in the Night Lands.)

"Ma ishish anha zajje emralat Rhaeshis Ajjalani oma yeroon. Ishish anha ast Vezhofaan memé jifo hilee ma anha jad jinnaan haji ayolat yera." (Or maybe I refused to enter the Night Lands without you. Maybe I told the Great Stallion to go fuck himself and came back here to wait for you.)

She chuckled at her husband's words, standing close to him, tears stinging her eyes. "Jini vena tikh meyer jif ti." (That sounds like something you would do.)

He beckoned her to sit down beside him, letting her place her small hands on her son's face. This was always the way she imagined him to look like while he was still in her womb.

"Ma ishish me atthirarido. Atthirarido che yeri che anni. . . Anha vo nesok. Jini qafe ha mahrazhea ville ma qorasoa reddi. Yer jalan atthirari anni. Haz nesak anha disse, ma anha zigerok nesat vos alikh. Ma hash jini atthirarido, hash anha vaddrivak mahrazhes fin kis vallatha anna." (Or maybe it is a dream. Your dream, my dream... I do not know. These are questions for wise men with skinny arms. You are the Moon of my Life. That is all I know, and all I need to know. And if this is a dream, I will kill the man who tries to wake me.) She hoped that as well, their foreheads pressed against one another, his finger touching her chin softly, and she looked down at Rhaego for a moment, seeing his smile up at her softly like a baby would. Slobber shone on his small chin. She sniffed once and placed her forehead on his again, her hand taking his soft cheek in her palm. "Until the sun rises in the west and sets in the east until the rivers run dry and the mountains blow in the wind like leaves." Her other hand took his bare cheek in her palm as well, dragging her nails softly against the skin before letting him go, her head turning away from his, Rhaego taking her index finger into his mouth, trying to bite it with his gums. She pushes herself off the bed, her husband's eyes casting down and her baby reaching out to her. She doesn't turn back to him as she walks off.

If I look back, I am lost, she reminded herself as she opened the entrance, and instead of the snow, she's back inside the House of the Undying. Her dragons were chained to the column, crying out for her as she came closer, the black and red one flapping his winds softly. She reaches out a hand, ready to touch them, but Pyat's voice calls out to her. "They miss their mother," she whips around quickly. "They want to be with you."

"Do you want to be with them?" Another calls out behind her, spooking the young girl around, and she turns around again when the real Pyat adds, "You will be." He is walking around the edge of the room, as well as his clone. "When your dragons were born, our magic was born again. It is strongest in their presence. And theirs' strongest in yours. You will be with them. Through winter, summer, winter again. Through a thousand, thousand seasons." Cold metal is wrapped around Dany's wrist, and she lifts them up to see cuffs around them, the chains being tightened into the large circular metal rings on the wall, spreading her arms out. "And we will be with you until time comes to an end. Welcome home, Daenerys Stormborn."

"This is not my home," she replies. "My home is across the sea where my people are waiting for me."

"They will be waiting a long time." Dany tilts her head back, thinking up a plan, then looks back at her dragons, who are still chattering their teeth together. They look at her expectantly and Pyat bends at the knees to look at them with his eyebrows drawn in. Dany turns her head to him, and says, "Dracarys." When the black dragon obeys, a small smoke ring only comes out, and Pyat finds it funny, though he says and does nothing, just steps back a little. The black one tries again, successfully, and Pyat's arm sleeve catches fire, and he is quick to try to put it out, but the dragons are quicker, all three letting out balls of fire at him, but the black one was letting out one long stream, clearly better at it than his brothers. Pyat growls in pain, Dany's eyes staring him down as his screams pierce her ears, his whole body on fire as he drops to the ground, rolling and waving his arms in an attempt to put it out.

His actions cease and tell Daenerys that he's dead, burned alive, and she looks back at her children with pride. The chains wither away, leaving ashes of them on the ground, and she tilts her head back.

I would name them all for those the gods have taken. The green one shall be Rhaegal, for my valiant brother who died on the green banks of the Trident. The cream-and-gold I call Viserion. Viserys was cruel and weak and frightened, yet he was my brother still. His dragon will do what he could not. And the black beast? The black is Drogon.

[edxnwood]

7. LOST DRAGONS

The quote about how many people in her life have been killed is from ASOIAF, but I changed Drogo's name it Loki's.

( staircase to dany's chambers, qarth )

"THE SPICE KING REFUSES me because I'm a bad investment," Dany rants to Xaro as they walk through the middle of a garden that led to the staircase near her chambers, anger pulsing through her veins. "The silk king won't support me because of his business with the Lannisters ― why offend his best customer? And the copper king offers me a single ship, on the condition I lie with him for a night. Does he think I would whore myself for a boat?" Xaro takes a moment to think about what to say, and of course, he had to retell the story of how he came to Qarth as a poor man.

"When I came to this city," Dany's head turns to him, already knowing the following words, "I had nothing. Truly: nothing." They turn right to the stone stairs. "I slept by the docks, and when I could find work loading the ships, I would eat. If not, I dreamed of food. Today, I am the richest man in Qarth." Dany internally rolls her violet eyes at him; he just had to keep reminding her of how wealthy he is despite the many times she's told him no. "Do you think the path from poverty to wealth is always pure and honorable? I have done many things, Khaleesi, that a righteous man would condemn. And here I am, with no regrets." He gestures to the city and then walks over to a door, opening it to the small girl, and they are greeted with the sight of Qartheen guards lying around, dead, throats slit open as blood poured from them. The haunting blue eyes of one stared up at her, and Daenerys took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart as she looked up to where her chambers were, worrying for her children. Her feet are quick to carry her over, the sound of Xaro calling out to her was muddled, almost as if she were listening to him through cotton and a glass wall, one of her Dothraki guards running behind her to make sure she was safe; at first, he would have protected her because Khal Loki commanded it, but now he did it because he believed in her. Daenerys rushed up the stairs to her room, passing a dead guard as she placed her hand on the banister, her dragons' cages left open and empty.

"Where are they?" She panicked. Irri laid on the ground, arms spread wide open in a T formation, her legs closed as no signs of life showed from where Dany stood. The Targaryen rushed over, putting her hand on her handmaiden's body, feeling the cold feeling of death even though the bodice of the Dothraki garb was stopping her skin from touching hers. She was on her knees, her head bent over Irri's, searching any signs of life, but none were shown. She was dead. Dany picked up her head and yelled out, "Where are my dragons?" Tears stung her eyes, ready to fall as Xaro came in, a fake apologetic look on his face, and Dany noticed it.

She kept that in her head for future references.

It has either been a few hours or a few days since what has happened ― Dany forgot the time ― and she paced her room, looking down at the empty dragon cages. She changed into a violet version of her blue tunic with the brown skirt, and this time, instead of using intricate gold as the upper bodice, it was a simple brown leather. Jorah runs up the stairs, the soft clanging his sword made inside the sheath alerted Dany of another presence in the room, and she turned around, seeing Jorah breathing heavily. "You came back," she says with slight relief and slight stress.

"As soon as I heard," he said wearily. "Do you know anything?" Daenerys shook her head, tears stinging her eyes again as she took a few steps to him. "Irri is dead," she tells him.

"I know. She was a go―"

"She's dead," Dany says with more emotion, her words wavering slightly in the air. "She died alone, she died for me, and I couldn't protect her." Jorah nods softly, "Doreah?"

"We can't find her," Dany walks over to the banister, taking in a broken breath, a lump in her throat growing as she thought of another one of her friends dying. Her father had been slain before she was born, and her splendid brother Rhaegar as well. Her mother had died bringing her into the world while the storm screamed outside. Gentle Ser Willem Darry, who must have loved her after a fashion, had been taken by a wasting sickness when she was very young. Khal Loki who was her sun and stars, even her unborn son. The Gods claimed them all. She was going to add Irri and quite possibly Doreah to the list if they find her dead body. . . when they find her dead body. "She must be dead, too. I led my people out of the Red Waste and into the slaughterhouse." She puts her hand on the limestone.

"I should have been here," her advisor told her, taking a few steps to her.

"You went to find me a ship," she looked up at him. Jorah shakes his head, "My place is by your side. I shouldn't have left you alone with these people."

"These people?"

"They are not to be trusted," he shakes his head again.

"And who is to be trusted?" She turns her whole body to him. "Who are my people? The Targaryens? I only knew one ― my brother ― and he would have let a thousand men rape me if it had got him the crown. The Dothraki? Most of them turned on me the day Khal Loki fell from his horse."

"Your people are in Westeros―"

"People in Westeros don't know I'm alive," she interrupts him. Jorah just raises his eyebrows at her like a father would to his small child, his head tilting a little towards her, "They will soon enough." Dany's voice wavered a little as she replied, "And then what? They'll pray for my return, they'll wave dragon banners and shout my name. It's what my brother believed and he was a fool." She walks away, her fluffy hair fluttering in the wind that passed her, Jorah stepping up behind her.

"You are not your brother. Trust me, Khaleesi."

"There it is," Daenerys crosses her pale arms over her violet clothed chest. "Trust me. And it's you I should trust, Ser Jorah? Only you? I don't need trust any longer. I don't want it and I don't have room for it." She shakes her head, not knowing that her advisor was silently walking up to her, his arm stretching out to put it on her shoulder. "You're too young to be so ―"

"And you are too familiar," she snaps back, turning her head towards him, stopping his hand in its tracks, his eyebrows raising again, but this time it's in a shocked manner. Dany looks away from him again. His head drops, "Forgive me, Khaleesi. No one could survive in this world without help. No one. Let me help you. Please. Tell me how." She looks at him again, "Find my dragons." He marches off, the Khaleesi's head turning back to face forward again, hearing Ser Jorah's footsteps down the staircase.

( heimdall's observatory, asgard )

Loki emerges out of the BiFrost as Heimdall steps away from the controls, the GateKeeper glaring at the god of mischief and he notices. "What troubles you, GateKeeper?" Heimdall answers quickly but slowly, "I turned my gaze upon you in Jotunheim, but could neither see nor hear you. You were shrouded from me, like the Frost Giants who entered this Realm."

"Perhaps your senses have weakened after your many years of service."

" Or perhaps someone has found a way to hide that which he does not wish me to see." Loki sizes him up then smiles. "You have great power, Heimdall. Tell me, did Odin ever fear you?"

"No."

"And why is that?"

"Because he is my King, and I am sworn to obey him." Loki nods softly, a smile still on his lips as he asks, "Exactly. Just as you're sworn to obey me now. Yes?" A moment of silence passes between them.

"Yes."

"Good. Then you will open the Bifrost to no one until I have undone what my brother has started." He walks out of the Observatory while Heimdall watches after him.

( dany's chambers, qarth )

After Quaithe's confession about how the thief that goes against Dany is with her now, he ran all the way to her chambers, ready to protect her against anything. Daenerys runs up the stairs inside her chambers, her breath heavy and her silver hair flying behind her, Pyat Pree standing in the doorway with a haunting smile. One of her Dothraki bloodriders pushes her behind him, his crooked sword in front of him, ready to kill the man that threatened his Khaleesi. Jorah pushes a dagger into his back, the bloodied tip protruding out of the man's stomach, but he continues to smile. "A mother should be with her children," he says in a merry tone. He disappears in thin air, his robes falling to the ground while all three stare down at them. Where will you run to, Daenerys Stormborn?" He is right by the window, healthy as a horse. "Your dragons wait for you in the House of the Undying. Come see them."

Jorah pulls Dany by her arm, rushing her out of the room, away from the threat that seems to be immortal.

[edxnwood]

6. BANISHED

( heimdall's observatory, asgard )

HEIMDALL STANDS AT THE OBSERVATORY'S CONTROLS, Odin pulling his sword out of the command panel and throws it to him, making the Gate Keeper back away. "Why did you bring us back?" Thor was furious at his father for not letting him complete his mission, wanting an explanation as to why he did, glaring at him with a fury. "Do you realize what you've done? What you've started?"

"I was protecting my home!"

"You cannot protect your friends. How can you hope to protect a kingdom?" He turns to the others. "Get him to the healing room! Sif, Volstagg, and Hogun hurry to help Fandral out of the room." It wasn't a good enough answer for his son, who just yells back, "There won't be a kingdom to protect if you're afraid to act!" Odin stares at him with his blue eye, a subtle glare in it, Loki standing by awkwardly and watching the commotion going on. "Whatever the cost, the world must know that the new King of Asgard will not be held in contempt."

"That's pride and vanity that talks! Not leadership! Have you forgotten everything I've taught you? What of a warrior's patience, cunning?"

"While you wait and be patient, the Nine Realms laugh at us! The old ways are done. You'd stand giving speeches while Asgard falls!" Thor shouts back, his voice sounding like thunder cracked down from the sky, loud and booming. "You're a vain, greedy, cruel boy!" Odin bellows, and Thor already has something to say. "And you're an old man and a fool!"The whole world seems to stop at Thor's words. Odin falls quiet. When he speaks again, there's something terrifying beneath the calmness of his words. "A fool, yes," he nods down at him. "I was a fool to think you were ready." Loki steps forward, "Father ―"

"Hey!" Odin growls at him, stopping him in his tracks. "Thor Odinson. . . You have disobeyed the express command of your King. Through your arrogance and stupidity, you have opened these peaceful Realms and innocent lives to the horrors of war." The Allfather plunges Gun"gnir into Observatory's control panel. The turret turns, the Bifrost energy building along with Odin's rage, and it fires, as the Bifrost opens at the end of the platform, creating a portal behind Thor. Odin turns angrily to his son. "You are unworthy of this Realm. . ." He rips off a disk from Thor's chest plate. "Unworthy of your title. . ." He rips off the bright crimson cloak. "Unworthy of the loved ones you've betrayed. I hereby take from you your powers." Odin extends his hand towards his son, Mjolnir goes flying from Thor's grasp and into Odin's hand. "In the name of my father. . ." A finger of lightning flies out of the hammer and into Thor's chest, disintegrating the right arm of his armor and part of the chest plate. "And of his father before. . ." Another strike disintegrates the remainder of Thor's armor, including the cape and torn-away disc on the floor. "I cast you out!"

Odin thrusts Mjolnir before him and ― with a crack of thunder ― Thor is hurled back into the open Bifrost and disappears in the vortex. Odin holds Mjolnir in his hand, stares at it bitterly. He closes his eyes, lost in contemplation, whispers something quietly, "Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor." Runes appear on the side of the hammer as if carved into its smooth surface. They linger for but a moment, then disappear. Suddenly, Odin turns and hurls the hammer into the Bifrost.

( daenerys' chambers, qarth )

"If you cross the sea with an army you bought―"

"The Seven Kingdoms are at war with one another," she and Jorah argued, the older man wanting Daenerys to stay here for a little longer until the war over in  Westeros died out, then she could go in with her dragons and a large army to fight for her rightful throne, but the young girl wanted to get it overwith; she waited for fourteen years for her throne. "Four false kings destroying the country."

"To win Westeros you need support from Westeros."

"The Usurper is dead," Dany rolls down the side of one of her dragon's cages, the small creature whining as darkness covered him. "The Starks fight the Lannisters and Baratheons fight each other." She shakes her head, Jorah straightening his back. "According to your new friend who earned your trust by cutting his hand?" He fought back, raising his eyebrows at her. "The time to strike is now," she ties off the covering. "We need to find ships and an army or we'll spend the rest of our lives rotting away at the edge of the world."

"Rich men do not become rich by giving more than they get. They'll give you ships and soldiers and they'll own you forever," he walks forward, using his hands as emphasis. "Moving carefully is the hard way, but it is the right way."

"And if I'd listen to that advice outside the gates of Qarth, we'd all be dead by now." When Jorah sighs, one of the dragons growls, their mother turning her head to him. "I know the opportunity before you seem like the last you'll ever have, but you must ―"

"Do not speak to me like a child," says the fourteen-year-old girl, walking past Jorah, his head following her as she moved to the other side of the room, his body following close after. "I only want ―"

"What do you want?" She whips her head around, "Tell me."

"To see you on the Iron Throne," he answers.

"Why?"

"You have a good claim," he says. "A title. A birthright. But you have something more than that." He steps forward. "You may cover it up and hide it, but you have a gentle heart. You would not only be respected and feared, you would be loved." Dany looks away as she pretends to be annoyed, but she was happy; no one has told her that before, and then turns her head back to her advisor. "Someone who can rule and should rule. Centuries come and go without a person like that coming into the world. There are times when I look at you and I still can't believe you're real." Dany's turns away, a gasp leaving her lips as her eyebrows come closer, tears coming into her eyes. "So what do you have me do, as my advisor?"

"Make your own way," he remarks. "Find your own ship, you only need one. The allies we need are in Westeros, not Qarth." He shakes his head.

"And how do I get this ship?"

"I'll find it for you. A sound ship with a good captain." Dany turns to face him, "I look forward to meeting him." Jorah bows at the waist, "Khaleesi." He walks off, Dany walking back to her dragons after taking a breath out, hearing them let out small whines as they hate their confines, but they must stay there until they get out of Qarth; they don't know if there could be traitors around.

( healing room, asgard )

Sif, Loki, and the Warriors three, battered and shell-shocked, still reeling from the day's events, sit before a roaring central fire. Hogun reaches into the flames, pulls out some fragile healing stones, and neither the fire nor the stones burn him. As he carefully places the stones over the wounds of his comrades, the stones begin to glow. He crushes them to a powder. His comrades' injuries heal up at the glowing powder's touch, Fandral winces in pain asHogun heals his gaping wound, and Volstagg looks at the skin on his arm ― healing, but still blackened from the necrotizing touch of the Frost Giant. Loki watches him, then stares at his own arm, where the Giant's touch turned his skin blue. It's undamaged, back to its normal color. "We never should have let him go," Volstagg shakes his head.

"There was no stopping him," Sif replies, knowing that Thor was prideful and somewhat egotistic. "At least he's only banished, not dead," Fandral said. "Which is what we'd all be if that guard hadn't told Odin where we'd gone." Everyone agreed, but Volstagg was the only one who questioned it. "How did the guard even know?" Loki stares at his arm in silent shock, not wanting the others to see what he was feeling; he was meant to be the God of Mischief and Lies, so he was supposed to be stone-cold. "I told him," he says.

"What?"

"I told him to go to Odin after we'd left. Though he should be flogged for taking so long."

"You told the guard?" Volstagg asks.

"I saved our lives! And Thor's. I had no idea Father would banish him for what he did." He begins picking at the cuticle of one of his fingers, taking it back just enough to keep it looking good and neat; he had an image to uphold to Asgard. Though he may be a man, he had to keep his image fresh, elegant, and smart, even if it was something as minuscule as a cuticle ― the maids could see it if they were to come near him. "Loki," Sif starts, "you're the only one who can help Thor now. You must go to the Allfather and convince him to change his mind!" If Loki were with his wife, she wouldn't be giving him this much shit. "And if I do, then what?" He questions her. "I love Thor more dearly than any of you, but you know what he is. He's arrogant. He's reckless. He's dangerous. You saw how he was today. Is that what Asgard needs from its King?" Everyone looks at each other, torn. Loki had a point. He leaves the room, leaving them all to question who the traitor in the House of Odin was, and they began to think it was Loki; he loved Thor, yes, but he was always jealous of him.

( odin's vault, asgard )

Loki heads into the Vault, sees the Casket of Ancient Winters sitting on its stand, walking over to it slowly, reaches out, lifts it between his forearms off its pedestal. As he does, a blueness spreads from his arms, across his body. The blueness was spreading further, consuming his whole body. Until he was one of them. "Stop!" Loki hears Odin hurrying into the room. Odin eyes Loki with dismay. "Am I cursed?" The god of mischief asks.

"No," Odin denies, shaking his white head. Loki sets the Casket back on its pedestal, "What am I?"

"You're my son," Odin responds, Loki turning around, letting the Allfather see his blue skin and red eyes, the etching of the drawings Jotuns had on their skin. The color recedes back into his collar, "What more than that?" Odin doesn't answer; he looks suddenly weary, burdened. Loki sizes him up, realizing the truth that his apparent father was hiding from him. "The Casket wasn't the only thing you took from Jotunheim that day, was it?"

The Allfather cannot hide it anymore. "No." He pauses, choosing his next words carefully as he looks ready to faint. "In the aftermath of the battle, I went into the Temple, and I found a baby. Small for a giant's offspring ― abandoned, suffering, left to die. Laufey's son." Loki is sent reeling at this information, hating the fact that he was not of Asgard, but of the Giants he was sworn to protect Asgard from; he fought against his real people. "Laufey's son. . ." he repeats softly, struggling to make sense of it. "Why? You were knee-deep in Jotun blood. Why would you take me?"

"You were an innocent child."

"You took me for a purpose, what was it?" Odin doesn't answer. "Tell me!"

"I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance, bring about a permanent peace. . . through you." He doesn't want to believe what he's hearing. "What?" He asks softly. "But those plans no longer matter." Odin couldn't bear to see his adopted son crying, the blue eyes he took from Frigga shining with tears, not with whatever adoration he saw only when he was looking at his mother; whenever he looked at his father it was blank, and when he looked at Thor it was full of jealousy and in recent times. . . it looked like he knew he finally had something that his brother didn't. "So I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up here until you might have use of me."

"Why do you twist my words?"

"You could have told me what I was from the beginning. Why didn't you?"

"You are my son," Odin counters, but it wasn't enough for Loki. "I wanted only to protect you from the truth." The Trickster did not want to be saved from the truth; he wanted to have been told many years earlier so all this pain he felt could have been overwith, so he didn't have to have the want, the need, to run into his wife's arms, crying. "Because I. . . I. . . I am the monster parents tell their children about at night?" Loki asks, hearing that Odin's words had no feeling to them, they seemed practiced, like he knew this day was going to come, stood in front of a mirror and said those very lines many times until he had it down perfectly. "It all makes sense now. Why you favored Thor all these years." Odin sits down on the staircase in pain. "Because no matter how much you came to love me,   you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the Throne of Asgard!" The Allfather's body begins to shake, lifting his hand, moving out of sync temporarily, leaving a trail, the Odinsleep coming into effect. Loki doesn't notice it as he tries to fight it off. His hand drops as he falls asleep.

The God of Mischief gets on his knees, his hands hesitating to even touch Odin, his deft fingers resting atop the old man's hand, his thumb encasing the bottom of it, "Guards! Guards, please help!" The emotional strain of Loki's confrontation made the Odinsleep come faster than normal, and the Einherjar guards come in in their golden armor, beginning to pick their King up to bring him to his chamber.

( spice king's palace, qarth )

"He shouldn't make me wait," Dany paced the floor impatiently, her blue dress switched for a blue tunic, a gold cage-like necklace coming down below her breasts, Dothraki skirts in favor for the fine silk she wore the previous day. "The Spice King is the second wealthiest man in Qarth," Xaro replies, putting an emphasis on second to show that he was the first wealthiest man in Qarth, as he always did. "He makes everyone wait. Of course, you could have avoided this embarrassment if you married the wealthiest man in Qarth."

"I already have a husband," she seethes, already getting annoyed by his constant pushing to marry him; it seemed like he just wanted a woman to bed forever, not someone to love and hold dearly. "Khal Loki is gone, Khaleesi," he adds weight on the word gone, making Dany's heart hurt. It couldn't possibly be, she thought. He's a god. Gods are harder to kill than a simple pillow smothered over their heads. "You are far too young to remain a widow forever and far too beautiful."

"You are far too smart to think that I will succumb to flattery," Dany chuckles dryly, continuing her pace.

"I have traveled very far in my life," Xaro monotoned, "and met many women, but none that are immune to flattery." Well, Dany thought, perhaps when someone compliments you many times and each time they do, they take your weakness and use it against you again, you'll understand. "The Mother of Dragons!" A voice booms from the top of the grand staircase, breathing heavily as he walked down it, his fat body making it hard for him to even take a few steps without tiring himself out. "Forgive me," he bows to her. "I had terrible dreams last night, terrible dreams! I could not sleep until the sun was shining and the birds were singing. Look, what a beauty you are, now that the Red Waste has been washed off you. I am sorry for all that. . . unpleasantness. The silver hair of a true Targaryen! Xaro Xhoan Daxos, she is far too lovely for a glorified dockworker like yourself!"

"Very true!" Xaro mused, pointing up at the heavy man on the stairs. "And yet they say that your grandfather, who sold pepper off the back of a wagon, married a lady far lovelier and higher born than himself." As if Xaro had a chance, Dany fumed in her head. "Every lady alive was lovelier and higher born than my grandfather," the Spice King commented, the people behind him laughing softly while Xaro had a dry laugh, pretending to be enjoying his company. "Did my servants not offer you something to eat, to drink? I'll have them flogged in the square!"

"Thank you, my Lord, you are a gracious host," Dany stops him, stepping up to him, the tips of her boots hitting against the bottom step. "But there is no servant alive that can give me what I want."

"Ah, she has a talent for drama, this one," Xaro gives a sullen nod behind Dany's back, agreeing with the Spice King for once. "So, my little princess, what is it you want?"

"My birthright, the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros."

"I fear I'm no better than a servant in this regard," he shakes his bald head at her, mocking the young Khaleesi. "I cannot give you what I do not have." Dany sighs deeply, "I'm not asking you fo the Kingdoms. I'm asking you for ships. I need to cross the Narrow Sea."

"I need my ships as well," he begins to truly mock Dany as if she were a stupid girl. "I use them, you see, to bring spices from one port to another!"

"Whatever you grant me now, will be repaid three times over when I retake the Iron Throne," Dany stated, and the man's bushy eyebrows come up in the air, ready to say something else. "Retake?" He queried. "Did you once sit on the Iron Throne?"

"My father sat there before he was murdered."

"But if you did not sit on it yourself," the King asks, "would it not be correct to say take the Iron Throne?" Dany's had enough, and she snaps, replying, "I didn't come here to argue grammar!" He shakes his head down at her like a man would to his little puppy, if he ever had one. "Of course not," he piped. "You came to take my ships. So let me explain my position, little princess." He walks down the stairs, hand running down the banister as his left held up his skirts. "Unlike you, I do not have exalted ancestors. I make my living by trade, and I judge every trade on its merits. You ask for ships, you say I shall be repaid triple, I do not doubt your honesty or your intentions, but before you repay your debts, you must seize the Seven Kingdoms! Do you have an army?"

"Not yet."

"You do not have an army. Do you have powerful allies in Westeros?"

"There are many there to support my claim."

"When were you there last?"

"I left when I was a baby."

"So, in truth, you have no allies," he straightens up. "The people will rise to fight for their rightful queen when I return."

"Ah," he juts a fat finger at her, and Dany wants nothing more than to reach over and break it in half, perhaps even rip it off its socket. "Forgive me, little princess, but I cannot make an investment on wishes and dreams! Now, if you'll pardon me." He begins walking up the stairs.

"Do you know Illyrio Mopatis, Magister of Pentos?" This makes him turn around from his walk, "Yes, we've met. A shrewd man."

"For my wedding, he gave me three petrified dragon eggs," Dany begins telling her story when she was just thirteen years old. Now she was a girl of fourteen, her breasts were no longer as full as they were from when she was pregnant and the skin around her nipples dried, cracked, and peeled off to reveal new pink buds. "He believed, the world believed, that the ages have turned them to stone. How many centuries has it been since dragons roamed the skies? But I dreamt that if I carried those eggs into a great fire, they would hatch. When I stepped into the fire, my own people thought I was mad. But when the fire burned out, I was unhurt, the Mother of Dragons." A moment of silence passes before them, Daenerys stepping up onto the staircase, "Do you understand? I'm no ordinary women. My dreams come true."

The Spice King nods at her and steps down, "I admire your passion. But in business, I trust in logic, not passion. I'm sorry, little princess."

"I'm not your little princess. I am Daenerys Stormborn of the blood of the Old Valyria, and I will take what is mine. With fire and blood, I will take it."

"Yes, My Lady! But not with my ships!"

[edxnwood]

5. JOTUN

( jotunheim, bifrost landing site )

A HOLE IN THE SKY RIPS OPEN, and the Bifrost comes shooting out of it, snow flurries up when the Bifrost hits, as Thor and his band touch down, runes from the Bifrost are imprinted on the ice around them. Volstagg loses his footing, falling backward. Thor quickly grabs him by the belt.  The warrior dangling precariously on the edge of a sheer cliff on the planet's inner ring, opening up to the black abyss of space beyond. " Come on, big fella. Up. . .!" With an effort, Thor pulls the burly warrior back onto the ice and, tremendously relieved, Volstagg proclaims: "This belt! This belt is now my lucky belt! I will never remove it! Even when bathing!"

"You bathe?" Fandral responds, Volstagg sending him a glare. Thor and the others turn and stare out in horror and wonder at the frozen alien wasteland before them. The whole planet is a massive flattened ring of jagged ice, slowly breaking apart. Huge chunks of ice calving away from its outer edges and float off into space. The planet's icy surface cracks and melts as far as the eye can see. The ruins of a Jotun city lies in the distance. "We shouldn't be here," Hogun says what Volstagg was thinking, but was too scared to say. "Too late now," Thor replies.

"Actually, it's not. We could turn right around, hop back to Asgard, share a mug by the fire. Could be nice."

Thor ignores him, marching off, while Loki looks around, anxious at something. "Perhaps we should wait." Thor turns back to his brother, "For what?" Thor wasn't thinking it out, Loki could tell, he was just running on rage and hatred to the Jotuns and he wanted them dead. That was Thor's fault when fighting: his anger. "To survey the enemy. To gauge their strengths and weaknesses from a distance."

"We know all we must. It's time to act." He walks off, and reluctantly, the others follow. Loki was trailing behind farther than the others, knowing that he had a wife and son to get back to. How did his son look like? Was he like his mother with her silver hair and violet eyes, or like him, with black hair and green eyes? Or was he like both of them? "He's just got to swing his hammer. . ." Lady Sif whispers.

( qarth )

"So, tell me, how long has your manservant been in love with you?" Xaro asks the petite Khaleesi next to him, walking out in the cover of moonlight, candles being lit to give them more light, and Dany shakes her head at him. "He's not my manservant and he's not in love with me," a woman sees that Dany's soft legs can be seen through the fabric of her dress, shapely and perfect. "He's my advisor, my friend."

"Unlikely," he answers to her, looking up at the sky while Dany looked up at him. "I could almost always tell what a man wants."

"And what about what a woman wants?" Dany was curious, to say the least.

"Much more complicated," of course. Women were always complicated, from what she's heard from other men. Women want something one day and the next she doesn't want it anymore, already bored out of her mind with it; she hoped she wasn't like that. "You, for example, what do you want?" Daenerys already had an answer, "To cross the Narrow Sea and take back the Iron Throne."

"Why?"

Why? Because it was her birthright, she promised her people that she'll get it back with them, for them, and she was going to avenge her family's death. But what if she was the cause of death for her mother? What would she avenge then? "Because I promised my khalasar I'd protect them and find them a safe home." Xaro lets out a rich chuckle, almost like rich the rich dark chocolate she had one time back in Braavos, and the man says, "You want to conquer the Seven Kingdoms for the Dothraki?" He turns around to face her, seeing her black khol-lined eyes stare up at him with a mixture of determination and anger.

"I won them because they are mine by right," she retorts, seeing him falter a bit but regained his composure, a weary look coming over his face as he watched her. "The Iron Throne is mine and I will take it." This makes Xaro hum low, nodding to himself, "A conqueror."

"And how did you get all this?" She asks, gesturing with her head to the beautiful things around them. "Did someone give it to you?"

"No. I come from nothing. I hit the docks like a piece of cargo, except someone normally cares what happens to cargo." This adds more to Dany's argument, wanting to use it to fuel it, but she knew that Xaro would have something else to say; he always did. "So you wanted more than you had and you took it," she says, adding a bit more to the end. "You're a conqueror, too, you're just. . ." she sighs, "less ambitious." This makes him laugh, Dany smiling up at him as a parrot squawked nearby, then her smile faded as a question popped into her mind. "What do you want, Xaro Xhoan Daxos? At the gates of the city, you bled for me. Why?"

"I will show you why," he holds up his hand, palm facing the sky, and Dany takes his fingers in hers softly, his thumb coming down to press against hers, leading her away from the plaza. While they walked, he spoke, a small strike of metal coming from Xaro striking it with what seemed to be a thin dagger. "The door and the vault is made from Valyrian stone. The hardest steel does not make a mark. I offered the greatest locksmiths in Qarth their weight in gold if they could break into it," Dany comes closer to the door leading into the vault. "I made the same offer to the greatest thieves. They all went home empty-handed. The only thing that could open this door," he holds the pendant of his necklace up, "is this key." It looked like it was made of gold and emeralds, Dany taking a liking to the look of it.

"And behind the door?" Xaro chuckles, Daenerys facing the vault again, cocking her head to the left as she spoke. "And it could all be mine?"

"All?" He asks her. "Let us say half." A greedy man, she notices, knowing that he could have more somewhere else, somewhere far away, but will only give her enough to get home. "More than enough to buy horses, ships, armies," he explains. "Enough to go home." She knew there was going to be a contingency to it, "All I have to do?"

"Is marry me," he says without hesitation, making Daenerys snicker up at him, shaking her head. "That was a romantic proposal," she teases, while the dark-skinned man does not smile or laugh, just looks down at her as he replies seriously. "I've already married once for love, but the gods stole her from me. I come from nothing," he walks around her. "My mother and father never owned a pair of shoes. But marry me, and I will give you the Seven Kingdoms, and our children will be princes and princesses." Dany thinks of Loki, wondering what he would think about the marriage proposal, but realizes that he wouldn't like it, and she erases him from her mind; he was dead and will stay dead. "See? I have more ambition than you thought. The time is right, Daenerys Targaryen, First of Your Name. Robert Baratheon is dead." Rhaegar's spirit has come revenge, it seems.

( jotunheim, central plaza )

The party reaches the plaza, sensing the Frost Giants in the shadows and crevices, surrounding them now on all sides. 31. The Asgardians reach for the hilts of their weapons. A jotun sentry calls to him. "What is your business here, Asgardian?" HIs voice itself sounds like cracking ice. "I speak only to your King," Thor replied. "Not to his foot soldiers."

"Then speak," a different voice said. Thor turns towards the source in a balcony of the temple, where Laufey sits, veiled in shadow, behind a cascading waterfall. The Jotun King is ancient, noble, powerful ― too proud to reveal even a hint of the years of suffering he and his people have endured. "I am Laufey, King of this realm," he says, and Thor begins to state his name and titles. "And I am ―"

"We know who you are, Odinson. Why have you brought the stench of your blood into my world?" He demands, cocking his head to the right, but not that any of the Asgardians can see. He senses something else from Loki, something much different from the others, a mix of two races, and the one that stands out the most was the Jotun half. But how could a Jotun turn out to be so small and normal looking? "I demand answers!" Laufey stands, sizing Thor up, trying to piece everything together. "You demand?" He simply asks.

"How did your people get into Asgard?"

"The House of Odin is full of traitors," his red eyes land on Loki, Sif and the Warriors Three exchanging a puzzled look at the Jotun King's choice of words. "Do not dishonor my father's name with your lies!" Thor fires back, but Laufey already has a remark to make. "Your father is a murderer and a thief," he states, growing angrier by the second. "He stole what was ours, and left our world in ruins. We have the right to reclaim the Casket."

"Not when you'd use it to make war against other Realms," Laufey laughs cold, mockingly at him. "And why have you come here? To make peace? You long for battle. You crave it. I see you for what you are, Thor Odinson. Nothing but a boy, trying to prove himself a man."

"This boy has grown tired of your mockery." Thor takes a step towards Laufey, the other Jotuns step in front of Thor, blocking his path. They finally see the Frost Giants now ― terrifying, blue-skinned, standing eight feet tall, and Loki moves next to his brother and quietly implores him. "Thor, stop and think. Look around you. We are outnumbered."

"Know your place, brother. . ." Right, the words Loki so hatefully dreaded. Know your place. It made him remember that he was still in Thor's shadow, that he was in a lower state than him. Yes, he might have Frigga's love, but Thor did too, as well as Odin's love and pride, but Loki never had that; Odin always seemed to overlook him, and the only times he never did were when he got into trouble. "You should listen to his counsel. You know not what your actions would unleash," Laufey stepped out of the shadows. "But I do. Go now, while I still allow it." Thor simmers and Loki speaks up. "We will accept your most gracious offer." The others look to Thor imploringly, Thor staring Laufey down a beat ― then relents. He turns to leave. His comrades breathe a sigh of relief and follow when a Frost Giant nearby mutters under his breath, "Run back home, little princess."

Thor stops in his tracks, Loki going white as a ghost, already knowing what was to come. "Damn," he mutters low. In one quick move, Thor pulls Mjolnir, swings it, and knocks the Jotun clear across the plaza. The Asgardians reluctantly draw their weapons, gathering into a circle around Thor, and Volstagg looks around at the angry Jotuns approaching them. "Silly hammer!" He yells. "Has a mind of its own!"

Ice forms on the Jotuns' bodies, creating a frozen armor around them, extending off the ends of their arms like swords. One Giant does so directly in front of Fandral. "I'm hoping that's just decorative," Thor leaves the circle of Asgardians, swinging at another Frost Giant while his comrades form another circle around him, separating him from the Jotuns, as he whirls his hammer around once and catches it with a cocky grin. He's enjoying this. "Next!" Fandral calls to Volstagg and Hogun, "Well, what move, do you think?"

"I say we use the Norn's Revenge."

"At this close range? I'd think the Alfheim Lunge is a better move."

"Maybe if they were three feet tall! No! How about The Randy Valkyrie?"

"Shut up!" Thor takes out yet another Frost Giant, then all hell breaks loose as the Asgardians and Jotuns begin to battle. A Jotun backs Hogun up against a wall of ice. As the Giant hurls an ice blade fist at him, the grim warrior swings his mace over his head, embedding it into the ice wall, and hoists himself up, dodging the Giant's blow and leaping over him. He takes out a second approaching Frost Giant, spins back, dodges a swing from the first, then pounds the Jotun with his club. Nearby, Sif expertly stabs one Jotun after another with her double-bladed staff. One knocks her viciously to the ground. "If you don't treat me like a lady, I won't act like a lady!" She takes out the Jotun. Loki backs away from an approaching Jotun, finding himself at the edge of a deep crevasse. The Giant sees he's vulnerable, swiping at him, but the Jotun's arm passes right through him. The Giant stands there, confused when the real Loki comes out from behind a structure and shoves the Giant into the crevasse below. The false one dissipates into nothingness. "Pathetic." He turns back to the battle. Two Jotuns come at him from either side. He lets two daggers fly, felling both Giants at once. Laufey nods to one of his guards ― a massive Jotun brute. The barbarian leaps down from the balcony, icing himself up, then punches his giant fist into the ice beneath his feet. It's a long-range attack, causing pillars of ice to explode out in front of Hogun, sending the grim warrior flying back. Across the plaza, Thor easily dispatches some Jotuns.

This goes on for a while, remarks coming from the Asgardians as they fought against their enemies, Loki's arm had turned blue from where the Frost Giant touched him, but it never hurt him; he felt power surge through him when it did.

A hole in the sky opens up, and the Bifrost blasts down onto the inner edge of the planet. Out of the maelstrom comes the sound of thundering hooves, and, to the shock of all, tearing across the frozen wasteland comes Odin Allfather, astride his powerful, eight-legged steed Sleipnir. He's clad in battle armor, Gungnir in his hand ― an imposing sight. The Giants part in fear as he thunders into their ranks, stopping before Laufey and the Asgardians. Laufey slams his fists into the ground, and the ice beneath his feet raises him towards Odin. The Asgardians start to react, thinking it's an attack, but Laufey just stands face-to-face with Odin. Asgardian and Jotun alike look on uneasily, unsure what's about to happen, Laufey sizes up Odin, notices that as powerful as the Allfather still is, the years have taken their toll. He's not the foe he once was. The two rulers talk quietly, out of earshot of the others. "Laufey, end this."

"Your boy sought this out."

"You're right. These are the actions of a boy. Treat them as such. You and I can stop this before there's further bloodshed." Unseen by Odin and the others, Laufey starts to form an ice blade at the end of his arm. "We are beyond diplomacy now, Allfather. He'll get what he came for ― war and death." Odin looks grim, determined. "So be it." Without warning, Laufey swings his ice blade at Odin, but Odin is quicker. The Allfather brings his spear down upon the ice. Laufey and the nearest Jotuns go falling backward in a wave, the ice cracking beneath their feet, the other Frost Giants turning tail and run. Thor watches the fleeing Jotuns with delight. "Now! We'll finish them together!"

"Silence!" Odin raises his spear. The hole in the sky opens, the Bifrost energy blasting forth from it, envelops the Asgardians, yanks them off the ground and up through the hole. The vortex closes behind them as all falls silent. Laufey stares up after them contemptuously.

[edxnwood]

4. PYATT PREE AND QUAITHE

( qarth, dany's private chambers )

DANY DROPPED A CUBE OF RAW MEAT IN FRONT OF DROGON, both her and Doreah watching him with smiles, hearing him let out a small growl, one that sounded like he clicked his teeth together more than once. "Dracarys," Dany orders, Drogon moving a little to look down at the meat directly, smelling it, and before he does anything, he looks up at his mother, confused. The two girls smile again. "Dracarys," he lets out two squeaks, the first one having a tiny puff of smoke come out while the second a small flame shot out of his mouth, cooking the red cube in front of him.

Doreah claps while Dany chuckles, happy that her son was able to eat. "He'll be able to feed himself from now on," Drogon takes it into his small mouth, standing on his hind legs as his wings tuck into his side, letting out another squeal when he saw his mother step away to her bed. Her handmaiden gets an idea and reaches for the pork, but her Khaleesi's voice stops her, "Let him sleep, Doreah."

"Yes, Khaleesi," she responds, placing her hand down on the sill, palm facing the sky, Drogon climbing on, feeling his tiny claws grip onto the soft skin of her hand. "He loves you," Dany comments, Irri looking back with jealousy, her hands still working on the bottom of the Targaryen's dirtied boot. She wanted a close friendship with her Khaleesi as the former prostitute had, but she considered herself lucky to even know Daenerys, but she wanted more, but it wasn't a killing need, more of a want that ate away at her stomach, and she looked away, her enemy carrying Drogon back to one of the tables in his cage. Irri wanted to make Daenerys proud, so she told her about what she did, holding one of the cages up. The dragons were restless and ate away at their cages when they were bored, so Irri volunteered to weave stronger material along the top, where most of the biting ensued. "Anha soqe akka jin sacchey essheyi," she showed her, then picked up the boot she had just finished. "Qisi tim, anha arrisse vemishikh jinoon akka." (I rewove this part of the top. And I fixed the heel on this one.)

"Thank you, my friend," hearing her Queen call her her friend was the best feeling ever, her shoulder burning up where Dany leaned against her softly, smiling at each other. Doreah walked back to the bed, picking up the soft blue dress as she began to speak, "Did you see the dress Xaro had made for you?" The beads tinkled against one another as they moved, Doreah moving across both arms. "They say he's the wealthiest man in Qarth."

Dany just gives her a look that said she didn't like rich men despite having married a prince of Asgard, but he didn't show her his money or give her jewels and gifts, he gave her something more powerful: he gave her her powerful voice. Besides, he had to be in his arly forties, an age too old for her, despite her late husband being five years her senior when she was the tender age of thirteen. "It is known," Irri agrees and the smile on the ex-prostitute's face falters, biting her lip as she glares at her from the curtain of the dress' skirt. And if Qarth is the wealthiest city in Essos —"

"The last time a rich man gave me a dress, he was selling me to Khal Loki," Dany interrupts, taking the silk in her hands, feeling the soft fabric with her fingers, noting how just like the color, resembled water. Irri bows her head in respect for her lost king. "Me dothralates she Rhaeshi Ajjalani ayyeyaan." (May he ride through the Night Land's forever.) Dany smiles down at her before averting her eyes to Doreah, "Xaro's our host, but we know nothing about him. Men like to talk about other men. . ." she releases the dress from her grasp, "when they're happy."

Irri scrubs the bottom of the shoe harder, but Dany took no notice of this, she only watched Doreah simper and place the shift back down on the cot, "You would look like a real princess in Xaro's —"

"She's not a princess, she's Khaleesi!" Irri snaps, stopping her actions, and Dany looked down at her, and her handmaiden feels her eyes on her, and once she looks up at the younger girl, she bows her head in shame. "You should wear it, Khaleesi. You're their guest. It would be rude not to." She walks off, opening the gold and marble door that held Daenerys' chambers from the others, and the young girl smiles down at her feet.

( qarth, festival )

There was a festival in town, one that not even Jorah knew why they were celebrating, and the citizens of Qarth walked around, mingling among one another as they drank wine and ate fine foods, dressed in their best clothes. Irri was talking to another Dothraki, feeling out of place with the colorfully dressed men and women, keeping their backs to their Khaleesi, but they still were keeping an eye on her. Daenerys wore a beautifully crafted cerulean dress that split at her chest and extra silk cascaded down her back like a waterfall, gold embroidery stitched into the silk, a thick belt and shoulder pads retaining it all together, and two strings of beads fell from it. Her hair was brushed and let down, two small braids interlocking at the back of her head. She smiled politely at a woman who had told her a joke, hearing her crisp, clear laugh over the crowd. "And you must visit the Night Market," she told her, using her empty hand as she talked. "The Qartheen Night Market is like no Night Market you've ever seen."

"It sounds wonderful," Dany smiles at her, seeing the gold paint spread into the woman's dark roots gleam in the sunlight, despite being in the shade. "The Meereenis believe they have a Night Market, I'll take you there myself." Dany hears the unmistakable sounds of Dothraki being spoken, and this grabs her attention, notwithstanding all her efforts of being polite to the woman. She didn't even know her name. "Please excuse me for a moment," she apologizes before making her way to where Ser Jorah and two Dothraki men were, arguing about something that involved gold and jewels. "What are they doing?" She asks, one of the men tapping the side of the golden peacock with the blunt edge of his blade, hearing the dull thud of the two metals hitting against each other.

"Malakko says the statue is too heavy to carry," Jorah answers, gesturing to an older man, who nods at Jorah's words. "Kovarro says that Malakko is an idiot. They can pry out the gems, the rest is pure gold, very soft. He can chop off as much as we can carry." Daenerys looks between the three of them, her mouth slightly agape as she comprehends what is happening: they were planning to steal. If they stole, they would be kicked out and their journey would be back on square one, but if they took the gold and gems, they would have enough money for a boat or two, but the Dothraki would never get on something that would take them across a span of water their horses cannot drink, though they didn't have many horses. "Che ivvisaki mae. Disisse," Kovarro adds, waving his dagger around as he spoke. (Or melt it. Very simple.)

"Kisha nevaki mae! Yer laz vos vefenari mae, vos tavi mae, vos ivvisi mae," Daenerys declines, but Kovarro seems to have thought it through, but not enough steps have been made. (We are his guests! You can not pry it, nor chop it, nor melt it.)

"Vosecchi, zhey Khaleesi! Kisha vayoki athezaraan kishi." (Of course not, Khaleesi! We will await our departure.)

"Kash athezar kishi vos akka," Dany wanted it to be the last of their argument, but it seems that the Dothraki man wants to go on, opening his mouth to speak as a confused look crosses his face. (During our departure, not even.) "Vos arrek? Kifindirgi?" (Not then? Why?)

"Hash idrik kishi vijazero kisha Athasaroon Virzetha hash yer zali zifichelat moon? Anha acharak vos alikh." (Our host saved us from the Red Waste and you want to steal from him? I will hear no more.) They bow their heads before walking away, Kovarro placing his knife back into its sheath, a man bending his knees softly as Kovarro takes one of the golden goblets from the platter he carried, staring at it with a blank expression before he dumps the liquid inside it and placing it inside a bag he carried. "My brother used to say to say the only thing the Dothraki knew how to do was steal things better men have built," Dany and Jorah stroll away from the peacock.

"It's not the only thing," they stop walking. "They're quite good at killing the better man." Dany takes it as a small insult to the way she ruled, but she kept her composure and replied softly. "That's not the kind of queen I'm going to be." A man calls out to her, "Mother of Dragons!" and she and Jorah turn around, facing a bald man with blue lips and sunken eyes, laugh lines around his mouth and a violet high-necked robe worn over a white tunic. He looked haunting to Dany. "On behalf of the warlocks of Qarth, I welcome you." He bows at the waist, Dany smiling at him softly and he sticks out his hand. Though Dany did not believe in magic or warlocks, she let him be.  "A demonstration?" She places her small hand in his larger one and he places a cold gemstone into her palm. "Take this gem. Look at it. . . into its depths." It was green, like Loki's eyes. "So many facets. Look closely enough and you can see yourself in them." A small flutter and a quick look over his shoulder, and he stood behind a peacock statue, but he was right in front of Dany as well. Two places in one.

But. . .

"Loki is known for his smart, cunning, mischievous ways," her brother had whispered to her the day she met her husband. Later on, a few months into the marriage, Viserys kept whispering something to her about how Loki was the God of Mischief and how he was able to be in multiple places at once, being able to replicate himself with illusions, so could he have duplicated himself and gone back to his home world to finish some royal business? She shakes her head and watches the second man. "Often more than once. Should you grow tired of Xaro's baubles and trinkets, it would be an honor to host you at the House of the Undying. You are always welcome, Mother of Dragons." Two different wars fought inside her: truth and make-believe. She knew that her husband was dead, but it could all have been an illusion, a fake Loki. The warlock and his duplicate wander away, leaving clapping spectators and a bewildered Dany.

"My apologies," Xaro makes a break in the crowd with his large stature, his hands up in the air in an apologetic gesture, making his way to his petite guest. "Pyat Pree is one of the Thirteen, it was customary of me to extend an invitation. Customs die slow deaths in Qarth."

"What is the House of the Undying?

"It is where the warlocks go to squint at dusty books and drink Shade of the Evening; it turns their lips blue and their minds soft. So soft, they actually believe their parlor tricks are magic," Dany laughs, letting Xaro take her away from the crowd, feeling his fingertips skim lightly against the small of her back. Jorah is left alone, his teeth gnawing against the skin of his fingertip, "You watch over her." A soft, alluring voice comes from behind him, and he turns around to see a woman wearing a mask covering her face, gold worked into the fabric, just like Daenerys' dress, but hers were much larger and more gold was used than the fabric.

"Do I know you?"

"I know you," she responds. "Jorah Mormont of Bear Island."

"Who are you?"

"I'm no one," she clasps her hands together and turns her gaze to Dany, who was listening to Xaro as he told a story, an older, white-haired man listening in as well. "But she is the Mother of Dragons. She needs true protectors, now more than ever. They shall come day and night to see the wonder born into the world again. And when they see, they shall lust. For dragons are fire-made flesh and fire is power." She leaves, asphalt crunching beneath her feet, Jorah turning his gaze back to where his Khaleesi was and sees that she was nowhere to be seen.

( rainbow bridge )

Wide and flat, it runs straight out from Odin's palace to the mists and black void of space beyond. In the distance far ahead, the Bridge continues on until it reaches Heimdall's Observatory.

( heimdall's observatory, outside )

The band draws near the Observatory, where Heimdall himself, Gatekeeper of Asgard, stands at his post on the Bridge before them, blocking their way, staring them down. There is something other-worldly about him, even for this Realm. He holds a massive sword in front of him, his stern, intimidating face virtually concealed by his iconic two-horned helmet, very much like Loki's, but Loki's horns were in front of him, bent back. Something glints beneath his visor, like twinkling stars. "Keep your weapons sheathed and your mouths closed. This is going to take subtlety and sincerity, not brute strength. Leave it to me," Loki dismounts and steps forward. "Good Heimdall —"

"You're not dressed warmly enough," he interrupts, making Thor, Loki and the others trade looks. Of course, Heimdall could hear them. "I'm sorry?" Loki tried to seem stupid and curious, but he knew that Heimdall knew Loki was the one who had his nose stuck in a book at all times, not Thor. "The freezing cold of Jotunheim. It will kill you all in time, even Thor," he continued. "You think you can deceive me? I, who watch all? I, who can sense the flapping of a butterfly's wings a thousand worlds away?" He fixes his eyes pointedly at Fandral. "Or can hear a cricket passing gas in Niffelheim?" Fandral is gob-smacked, "That was just a bit of a jest, really —"

"You must be mistaken, we're not —"

"Enough," Thor steps forward, all eyes falling on him. "Heimdall, may we pass?" Heimdall stares him down, making the god feel a little uncomfortable in his armor when the creepy gold eyes of Heimdall bear into him. "For ages have I guarded Asgard and kept it safe from those who would do it harm. In all that time, never has an enemy slipped by my watch — until this day. I wish to know how that happened.

"Then tell no one until we've returned." They walk past him, the Gatekeeper letting them pass, Loki frustrated that his words didn't work. As Volstagg jests, "What happened? Your silver tongue turn to lead?"

"Get me off this bridge before it cracks under your girth," Volstagg and Fandral share a laugh.

( inside, heimdall's observatory )

Thor and the others enter the Observatory, step onto a platform, while Heimdall climbs into the large control paraphernalia at the center of the room and readies the Observatory. "Be warned," Heimdall tells them. "I will honor my sworn oath to protect this Realm as its Gatekeeper. If your return threatens the safety of Asgard, Bifrost will remain closed to you. You'll be left to die in the cold wastes of Jotunheim."

"I have no plans to die today."

"None do," this sends a chill down all of their spines, but if one of them were afraid, they were doing a damn good job of hiding it, the Gatekeeper could give them that. He inserts his sword into the control panel, and the machinery of the Observatory starts up. Heimdall turns his sword in the control panel. The Observatory's giant turret swings around, aiming toward a section of space. As a final step, Heimdall plunges his sword deeper into the control panel, the great turret firing, the rainbow light of Bifrost energy blasts out of it. The Bifrost opens at the end of the platform upon which Thor and his five comrades stand. "All is ready, you may pass."

"Couldn't you just leave the bridge open for us?"

"To keep this bridge open would unleash the full power of the Bifrost and destroy Jotunheim with you upon it." This gives Loki an idea in which he would use later on, one that would destroy Jotunheim and make him the hero of Asgard, make his older brother to cast away of the family, not him. "Ah, nevermind then." Thor starts towards the BiFrost, turns back to his comrades and grins. "Come on, don't be bashful." The others join him at his side, then step towards the Bifrost. Their bodies stretch towards the maelstrom, changing shape as if every atom of their being is being elongated by the pull of it. In an instant, they're jerked off the platform and inside the vortex.