Thunder's Child | Game of Thrones Fanfic

CHAPTER IV : The Renegade of Slaver's Bay

They whisper her name in high praise, known through out Essos as the protector whose eyes hold the color of the sun.

"Thunder's child." they say in hushed voices, travelling from one mouth to another, a living legend who was known to have burned her enemies alive with a sliver of words, only known to some.

Those who hold power over Slaver's bay have been taunted in the two year's of her rebellion, a feat worthy of the champion of slaves. It hadn't been easy for her, but two years was enough for her to secretly branch out her connections all through out Essos.

The great master's who have never known fear, face the nights with anxious hearts, as they call out her name in curses.

...

A hooded figure runs amidst the darkened alleys of Yunkai. Her hands soaked with blood, she turns to the right and swiftly enters a dim lit tavern, frequented by low ranked soldiers who call it the 'lowly crevice'.

Instantly, the man tending the establishment notices the cloaked customer. Patrons all drunk from the cheap mead pay no heed to the suspicious looking fellow. Tall and bulky, the man urges the hooded person to enter the back most part of the tavern.

With the lightest steps, no one could hardly notice the figure disappear. The man too had also faded in secrecy, carefully replaced by a man whose left eye were scarred with an 'x'

"You're wounded," said the burly man from before, his eyes fixated on the hooded figure's bleeding arms.

With a plop to a nearby chair, firm hands disrobe the battered down cloak, revealing a young woman with silver hair, partnered with the most peculiar set of eyes.

"Just a scratch on both arms, nothing too big." Alkaia chuckled, raising her eyebrows at him, a signal for the man to tend to her injuries.

The man stands with both arms crossed, face hard, as his gaze bore into the bleeding arms of his friend. He sighed, and gave into the signal. Grabbing supplies from wooden cabinet, he grabs a stool and sits beside her.

"You ought to be careful Alkaia, with the masters at high alert, the slaves wouldn't dare retaliate." he said, as he makes his way with the wounded areas.

"You're such a mom, Fergus," she laughed once more, and allowed herself to look around the room. "Strangely, the masters have been in high alert." her face begins to scrunch, "They have been ever since I came along, but this year its different."

"When you lost Tharo, they knew they gained the upper hand." he pointed out, as he wrapped the bandages on her arms. Alkaia looked away once more, "There's no point in denying that."

Alkaia clenched her teeth, "We could've done so much more if we waited— Tharo's rebellion only ended in more deaths, and it ended with his life as well."

Silence followed after, until it was broken by Fergus, whose eyes were fixated at the battered arms of his ally.

"You've saved so many people, Alkaia, your body has been painted by so many scars, no man would hav—"

"I need no man." she barked back, standing from her sitting, apparently in a bad mood, she grabbed a couple of coins from her pocket and threw it at Fergus' feet.

"My thanks." immediately, Alkaia grabbed her cloak, and once more wore it, as she slid out from the tavern.

Fergus looked at the gold coins which would've allowed him to live freely for the rest of his life.

"That idiot." he whispered to himself.

Alkaia could feel her legs giving out, but it was alright, she was near her home.

Turning to another alley, she finds the entrance, only known to her.

She enters the sewers, pocket jingling with gold, and a rucksack heavy with loot, she turns to greet her family, slaves she's yet to free, but regardless, a family she calls her own.

"Thunder's child!" they come to greet her, both children and adults alike. She comes into an embrace with people she swore to set free, their eyes lit with hope at her coming.

Surely she could not fail them.

Alkaia sat down by the fire, as she urged her friends to tell the stories of the day. She looked over at the bandages on her arm, cautiously hiding them with her cloak.

"How was your day, so far?" she probed, as they chattered on all together. Alkaia could not make up half of the conversation, but regardless, she paid attention.

They all talked about how the master's were, or how they were able to eat their fill for the day because of her support. In a moment, and in utter curiosity, her ears picked on a very interesting topic:

"There's been talk about dragons, and a queen whose hair sparkles like stardust!"

"But dragons have long been gone, that's impossible!" a woman from the crowd argued, suddenly silenced upon an addition to the rumor.

Alkaia snapped her fingers, and in an instant a small flame was conjured. The people of the sewers quieted down, as they all fixated their eyes at her magic. She snapped once more, and it dissipated into thin air.

"There are many things we cannot explain, but I do believe that dragons are real—and without a doubt, bound by magic," Alkaia paused, and looked into their kindled fire.

"Tell me more about this queen."

To Be Continued...