There were two babes in the Tower of Joy.
Two babes tied so closely to their parents, Ned had to make the decision.
One with hair like raven feathers, eyes as grey as steel, and a face of a true Stark. The other, with hair like moonlight, eyes lik...
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"That was reckless what you did yesterday, you endangered yourself and your plan could have failed." Ser Barristan spoke with a clear tone, his disappointment strong in his eyes. Rhaenar nodded, swallowing the thickness in her throat as she faced him and Ser Jorah.
"I understand that Ser Barristan, but we needed the Unsullied and that was the only way we were going to get them. Admittedly, I should have let you know my intentions; but I wasn't going to put you all at risk like that." Rhaenar uttered, sincerity lacing her voice as she looked between the two of them. "I have to prove my worth to these people, they need hope and I want to be that. I want to give them a better opportunity that they've never had in their life - and they can either choose to take it or leave it."
She hadn't given the masters of Astapor a choice, and that was her downfall; their deaths weighing heavy on her shoulders. "What happened in Astapor won't happen again, I assure you of that."
Ser Jorah stepped forward, his hand resting on his sword. "You feel regret over killing the masters." He stated.
Rhaenar nodded. "Though they kept slaves, they deserved the choice of offering fair employment. I slaughtered thousands without giving it thought, I've left children orphaned. I don't wish to repeat that."
"They were cruel men, Rhaenar. You should never feel sorry for killing cruel men." Daenerys uttered, her violet eyes hard. How wrong her sister was, did she have no conscience? Daenerys remained on her horse as she left, shooting her sister a look. Rhaenar swallowed, shaking her head. A single braid had been added to the white, draping down from the crown where a bell had been entwined; her Dothraki traditions meant the world to her. Her Khalasar had classed it as her first battle where she was victorious; the few women that remained more than happy to insist doing the braid as the men cheered.
She smiled at the thought. They had been on the move for days now, no respite from the heat that continued to bath their skin in heat. The Dothraki, though they were used to it - and were riding; she didn't feel the same about her Unsullied. She was sure they'd need more rest but none of them offered any complaints. "Where is Missandei?" She asked, looking at the party.
Missandei hovered at the back, moving her horse to the side for Rhaenar to see. They smiled at one another, Rhaenar motioning her to come closer. "Jorah, Ser Barristan; tell the men to halt. We'll rest here for a bit." They nodded, leaving.
"Your Grace." Missandei said softly, her voice gentle as she approached the Khaleesi.
