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DAARIO looked out at the ships crossing into the waters. He stood atop the Great Pyramid of Meereen, watching one of the greatest lovers of his life lead an army of boats across the seas to King's Landing. He was heartbroken, to say the least. He didn't care about Meereen. He did everything for her, but here was him, and out there was her.
"There's finally peace in Meereen." Daenerys had uttered, in her beautiful, soothing voice. "You will keep the peace while the people choose their own leaders."
Where was his say in the matter? "Fuck Meereen," he had spat. "Fuck the people."
His words reigned true. He absolutely did not care. He was there for Daenerys, but clearly, she could not be there for him – no matter how much she wanted to. Maybe she had truly never cared about him. Maybe she had, though Daario did notice how easily she was able to withdraw him on coming to King's Landing with her.
As Daario continued to watch his Queen ride away and dwell on his matters, he hadn't noticed the sound of a bird squawking to his right. Suddenly, a raven perched itself on the ledge of the pyramid, and began staring at Daario. The man finally realized this and lofted a brow as he made his way over to it. He untied the letter from the raven, watching it immediately fly back to it's sender. He unraveled the scroll, scanning the contents in disbelief.
A new King in the North? Why the fuck would anyone in Meereen care about such a thing? Perhaps Daario was still bitter about his breakup, but reading the letter meant for Daenerys made him miss her even more. She was wanted in the North – apparently – by this Lady Maia of House Sanders, whoever that was. She was needed for the Great War, he read.
What type of threat could possibly be made of winter? If it was any monster that could brave the cold on the perimeter of the Wall, having three dragons could surely help their cause.
Daario viewed back up, observing the lead ship sailing off into the distance. The sender had just missed the Queen before she rode off to King's Landing. For once, Daario hoped that this said threat would not make it's way South.
•••
With a hearty chuckle, Maia pulled back on the elastic of her bow. Though the war was over, Tormund suggested more practice on their part everyday would make both stronger. Maia took interest in the archery range Winterfell had, remembering a time when she used to fly arrows at her childhood summer camp.
"Move a little bit more to the right," Tormund advised as he watched from the side.
Maia nodded, doing as he said. Her grip on the bow tightened, while her other hand grasping the elastic pulled back farther. She squinted her eyes, making sure she was going to be precise. "Any day now," Tormund muttered.
Instantly, Maia released the elastic, watching the arrow soar directly into the middle of the target. She turned to the Wilding, a smirk plastered on her face. He scoffed, "I'm telling you: hesitation will be your downfall."
