Breaker, Broken | Jorah Mormont

Chapter 4

Daenerys hated that a horrible, awful thought jumped into her head. What if Saera died? What if this was her one and only battle? What if she no longer had a sister to compete with after today?

She didn't dare voice the thought to anyone. She didn't want them to know how afraid she was that Saera would take any power she grasped away from her.

She remained with Ser Barristan in her tent, her three children beside her, while Daario, Ser Jorah, and Grey Worm snuck ahead with Daario.

Saera followed soon after on foot, red and black paint smeared on her face, the Unsullied and Dothraki behind her, marching as quietly as possible. She had two knives and an arakh at her belt, a sword strapped to her back, and a spear in her hand, no shortage of weapons but no shield and only her Dornish armor.

She meant to test every skill she had.

As soon as the gate opened, she pointed her spear forward, calling the Unsullied, "Naejot vīlībāzma!" (T: To battle.) As they marched in, she called the Dothraki, "Tat vilajero!" (T: To battle!)

She joined them, soldiers already coming out to meet them; clearly the others had made enough noise to alert the entire city of their arrival. Saera rushed up ahead as far as she could, cutting down anyone who came near her, spear whirling over her head and smashing into helmets, cutting into chests, slicing across necks. When it was knocked out of her hands in the commotion, she turned to her sword, repeating the process and retrieving her spear once the soldiers surrendered; slaves didn't want to fight longer than necessary to prevent their own freedom. They couldn't win, and they knew it.

They made their way out of Yunkai, back to their camp in the hills. Saera walked ahead with Ser Jorah and Grey Worm, all of them covered in blood. Daenerys was waiting eagerly, and perked up immediately when she heard them arrive.

"It was just as you said," announced Ser Jorah. "They did not believe until it was too late. Their slaves soldiers threw down their spears and surrendered."

Daenerys smiled proudly. "And Daario Naharis?"

He walked up from behind, offering the bloody banner of Yunkai. "The city is yours, my Queen."

Saera found it hard to sleep. The Dothraki were energetic, and Jhiqui invited her to sit with her and a few of the Dothraki men who'd also gone into battle, all of them making gestures at Saera's face the instant they saw her.

"What are they saying?" asked Saera, unsure whether she should laugh along with them or be offended that they were pointing at her so much. "I am well-aware I need a bath, but–"

Jhiqui laughed. "They see the blood," she slid a bit of the blood mixed with red and black paint onto her finger to show her, "they say you are destroyer. The Red Serpent: Jin Virzeth Tyvar."

Saera tried to repeat, "Jin Virzeth Tyvar."

She clapped enthusiastically. "Yes. Face and hair, all red. Do not look Targaryen. Look like Red Priestess from Asshai."

She grinned. "That red? I need a bath more badly than I realized."

"Bath, yes, then braid. You have earned."

"I have?"

"You won battle. Fought bravely, great warrior, strong general. No more... this–" she gestured, unsure what to call the strange ponytail Saera had made. She tied it every few inches, creating bumps that were almost circular. "Braid is better."

"Thank you," said Saera, hoping Jhiqui would translate and convey her gratitude for their admiration. "It was an honor to fight with you."

Daenerys's hands trembled when Jhiqui happened to mention this new nickname the following morning.