All you could smell was smoke, your home burning to ash right in front of your eyes. The whole city was being lit up as it burned, and the men who were tearing it down on their horses were mere shadows thrown by the flames. There were tears running down your face and your eyes stung but you weren't sure whether it was due to the fear of these savage men, or from the smoke in the air. You could see other people starting to be dragged away by them, your neighbours being murdered and raped around you as you watched the flames growing higher.
You were suddenly grabbed by the arm, a large man dragging you over to a pile of hay. You knew his intentions, he would fuck and then enslave you like he had with many other women since the evening had begun. You found yourself unable to fight back, your breath catching in your throat as you imagined your father seeing you now, so different from the girl he had once known.
The man pushed you down, tearing at your clothes as you cried silently, not fighting anymore. It was then that you felt the man still, moving away as another man scolded him. "She is not yours, I will have her," you heard a deep Dothraki voice growl, the man looked as though he wanted to argue, but soon enough gave in, stalking away to find another woman to fuck. "Come," the other man grunted at you and you quickly scrambled to your feet, trying to cover your body where your dress had been ripped. He watched you, your face tear streaked and scared as you tried to avoid his eyes. "My wife does not like to see women harmed," he grunted, pointing over to a group gathered a little way away. "Go to the Khaleesi," he added as he pointed towards the white haired woman sitting atop the equally white horse. You didn't hesitate, walking hastily towards her.
"Do you speak the common tongue?" she started as you reached her, her smile soft and gentle, almost comforting. She had a kind look to her, much less scary than the men standing around her. You gave her a small nod, not wanting to look at her for too long you lowered your eyes to the ground. "Good, you shall come with me, I could use someone to teach me some more Dothraki," she told you before turning to the man beside her, "Jorah, give her your cloak, it is not decent for her to walk around in a torn dress." He nodded before dismounting from his own horse. Your body flinched away on instinct as he came towards you, moving so fast you almost forgot what the Khaleesi had told him. He stopped, seeing the fear in your eyes and held the cloak forward, not coming any closer to you. You took it from him, and draped it around your shoulders. You could hear the Dothraki men muttering about the Khaleesi, about how she was weak and that the Khal was stupid for listening to her.
"You should not speak of your Khaleesi that way," you finally spoke, in your broken Dothraki, and the men glared at you as the Khaleesi watched you in wonderment. One of the men grunted, slipping from his horse and pulling out a knife before pointing it in your direction.
"You will not hurt her," the Khaleesi yelped moving to your side, still on her horse. Jorah quickly relayed the message to the men, who continued to glare at you both. All of a sudden, they gave in and started to move away, leaving you with the Khaleesi and her sworn guard. "What did you say to them?" she finally asked you.
"I told them not to speak badly of you. They think you are weak; I can already see that what they say is not true," you murmured and she smiled down at you.
"What is your name?" she asked you, climbing off of her horse to greet you in the proper Dothraki way.
"Y/N," you quickly uttered, and she smiled as she grasped your arm in hers and she nodded her welcome. "You want to take the Seven Kingdoms," you told her, watching as he brow furrowed in confusion. "Rumours spread fast here, Khaleesi. They say that your brother wanted a crown but that he was not deserving, because you are the true Queen."
"You are not Dothraki are you?" she asked you, a smile spreading across her face as you nodded. "Where are you from?" she asked, her curiosity had been growing since she had first seen you, you did not look like a Dothraki, and you stuck out like a sore thumb among them.
"I was born in Westeros," you muttered, hoping that the subject would quickly be dropped.
"And what house were you born to?" Your eyes shot up to look at her, wide with surprise. No one was supposed to know who you were, and yet, she had figured it out within minutes of meeting you. "You do not hold yourself like a common woman," she added, smiling, "you stand like a proper Lady," she told you, a smile playing at her lips.
"My father is Balon Greyjoy," you murmured, attempting to keep your voice as low as you could in such a crowded space.
"You are very far from the Iron Islands," she uttered, more to herself than to you, as she glanced around at the city. "What are you doing here?" she continued and your lips pursed as you attempted to find a good answer. "Believe me when I say, that I understand the need to leave Westeros," she chuckled to herself and you smiled at her.
"My Father was foolish enough to attempt a rebellion. Two of my brothers were killed and the other was packed off to live with the Starks. My sister and I, on the other hand, were made to stay in Pyke," you paused for a moment, shrugging slightly. "My father was bitter and angry, and he made life absolutely miserable. Eventually, I decided to leave, and I just kept travelling until I found somewhere I liked," you told her, watching as a smile spread across her face.
"You will stay with me, and I will ensure that you are kept well. If your father is willing to support my claim to the throne you may be a very powerful ally."
"Khaleesi, can I have a moment of your time?" Jorah uttered, drawing your attention to him for a moment. She nodded, following him a little way from you. "This may not be a wise decision," he told her softly, a frown etched onto his lips.
"What do you know?" she asked in a low voice, looking over at you where you were stroking her horses soft white mane. You seemed harmless, if a little closed-off.
"Y/N Greyjoy was called 'The Blade' when I was in Westeros. When she was still a child, she fought alongside her father with just a dagger and came out of a battle completely unscathed. She could be dangerous," he told her, the worry on his face quite obvious as his brow pulled together, showing off his wrinkles.
"She sounds like she would make a fantastic ally," Daenerys told him softly, a small smile playing on her lips. Jorah gave a short nod, though it was clear he didn't quite agree. The Khaleesi returned to you, smiling as she ran her hand over her horses nose. "My guard tells me you were quite a good warrior when you were younger, is that still the case?" She asked and you tensed slightly beside her.
"I haven't had to use a weapon in a long time," you told her, "but I'm sure I would be able to pick it up again in no time."
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