Thunder's Child | Game of Thrones Fanfic

CHAPTER I : The Red Comet

It was a very special day in the central parts of Yunkai. Three of the great masters had sought out to watch the performance of the crowd favorite; the Thunder's Child.

A girl barely at the age of sixteen, who has won every single pit fight she's been put into. Dahrzo Laq, the slaver who bought the girl, would not speak much about how he had gotten her, but for a girl with striking gold eyes and beautiful silver hair. One would not easily mistake her for a slave.

Dahrzo busied himself with the preparations needed to make today's fighting pit unforgettable. He has been anticipating their coming after all. A messenger came a few days ago, telling of the master's Jurik Tyr, Gador Loch, and Valk Pir's visit to watch his prized slave in the fighting pits. And of course, it would have been an honor.

Beneath the fighting pits was the basement, where Dahrzo kept his slaves. Before he went down, he called for his guards, four newly bought unsullied to follow him below.

Dahrzo brought his walking stick towards the metal bars, hitting them with much gusto, he stopped and began yelling.

"Wake up ya filthy pit fighters!" he laughed, eying the slaves who hid with fear. He walked past the long hallway of cells, stopping at the far end of the basement.

"Goodmorning, little girl." he said with a sweet voice, which was accompanied by a vile smile.

In front of him was the girl who brought him gold, his best investment, and his prized possession.

Dahrzo would always come to check on her, and the girl would never say anything. Truth be told, she's been silent ever since she came here, and he has never once heard a single word from her.

"You've become so famous, that even the master's of Yunkai have sought you out."

He chuckled softly, "A great feat, for a slave of your calibre." his fingers traced the metal bars, never averting his gaze on the girl who sat still, staring back at him with eyes that gleamed like gold when hit by the light that came from the torches hanging by the faded walls.

Dahrzo gave her one last look, "You know I'll never let you go."

He left immediately after saying those words, and he left without ever hearing her reply:

"Valar morghulis."

...

The slaves were now lined up near the entrance leading towards the fighting pits, each one clutching a weapon of their choice, and each one busying themselves with battle strategies that would help them win another day to live.

Tharo leaned himself on a wall, carefully observing the sword he chose from the options given by Dahrzo's men. He kept a watchful eye on the Thunder's child, who sat near the entrance of the pits. It was the first time he had ever seen her look interested on something.

The girl was looking at the sky, and he knew what it was what kept her pre-occupied.

Tharo came from Astapor, and he had been lucky enough to survive a few weeks in the fighting pits. Most of the slaves knew that surviving that long enough, was a blessing.

But the little girl.

The little girl has lived longer.

He had never seen her fight, but he's heard tales from those who were quite lucky like him. Nobody knew her real name, or where she came from, but they did call her the Thunder's child, a name which she earned a few year's back.

"The red comet."

Tharo walked towards the Thunder's child, pointing his index finger at the sky. She looked at him, and he could feel himself being drawn to her eyes.