Into the Fire – Daenerys GOT ASOIAF SI
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I've spent most of a year now living in the temple.
Slaves tended to my every need (my unspoken opinion on that was to remain unspoken for a while yet) and I was learning more and more about the geopolitical situation every lesson I had.
I was even starting to learn the fire magics of the Red Priests, among many others who were rediscovering it themselves, amazement was not hard to find amongst people who could barely summon sparks before, even from those who were already powerful suddenly finding themselves able to produce great swaths of flame, so much so that rumor were already beginning to spread.
Currently I was sat with my juvenile dragon during a lesson from one of those self-same fire spewers, a surprisingly bland looking man named Bor, clad in simple red robes yet as he sat before me lotus style a roaring fire was held in his hands.
In fact, he was struggling from just how much fire there was.
Crying out, he splayed his hands apart and frantically tried to dissipate the flames, and without him trying to keep them going they found no fuel to feed them and they faded.
"Are you alright?" I asked, slightly concerned.
He waved a reddened hand, a small line of blood flowing from where he'd cut it beforehand.
"I'll be fine, it's not the worst I've had." He said, even while nursing his hands close to his chest with a twitching mouth.
"It's not just the outwards magics that have grown powerful Blessed, even the many poultices we have knowledge of have been found to be somewhat more effective than before. With some adjustment, we are able to treat such minor burns easily enough."
Bor leaned back, then grinned at me.
"As we near the end of your theoretical study I am very excited to see how the fires settle into you my lady, you need not fear the flame, no matter how hot or how fierce." He seemed to get a distant look in his eyes, and I sighed.
"Go get yourself treated Bor, I'm needing to go to the meeting soon anyway."
He blinked, before looking out the clear window of the study we were sat in, noting the sun's position.
"Ah, suppose that is true. Go on then, leave this old man to his own follies."
I giggled a bit, he's not nearly old enough to be saying such things.
Padding across the temple grounds, I noted the scrabbling sounds of Ash as she followed me along the halls.
I glanced over her. She was slightly long than a man is tall now, with wings capable of hour long flights. Not nearly ride-able yet.
From whatever dragonlore I had managed to obtain access to, if Ash had been given as much food and freedom as possible she's be about twice her size by now.
But, as much as I may want to be able to ride a freakin' dragon as soon as possible, I'd been taking extra care to make sure she was bonded to me, and would obey my every command.
She was certainly fond of me at least.
Still, if I wanted to be absolutely sure, I'd need to gain access to more dragon lore…. And the old blood of Volantis weren't being cooperative on that front.
I sighed, before looking to my other companion.
Orys was one of the Temple's thousand slave soldiers (never more, never less) called the Fiery Hand. Flames were tattooed heavily across every inch of his body that was shown, even then most of it was covered with high quality lamellar armor.
Looking over him, he seemed to resemble a Chinese heavy infantry unit more than what I'd expect from ASOIAF, but what few sellswords I've seen in this life did seem to have a wide variety of armor types, as long as they were covered in metal most seemed happy, though full plate was only for the richest of them.
Underneath the armor was red cloth, with the strings holding everything together similarly dyed.
He wielded a bronze plated wooden round shield, which would normally have the fiery hand symbol imprinted on it with red paint, but instead he had the red three headed dragon of my house on it it showcase his status as my bodyguard.
Finally, a shortsword at his waist and a spear with a flame styled spearhead rested on his shoulder.
Orys was loyal enough, he'd already kept me safe from lone attackers and such, yet he was very unimaginative and didn't talk much.
Also, he wasn't my only bodyguard, just my only permanent one who would accompany me at all times, and other Hands would be added as needed.
Turning away from my observations, I finally entered the council chambers.
The Temple of the Lord of Light in Volantis had a large council devoted to the management of the Faith's resources throughout Volantis and a few other "towns" (Two of them being larger than King's Landing, that was a ridiculous name for them) in Volantis' control, though not all of them. From what I've come to understand, the Faith wasn't a truly international organization.
Instead it was more like a sort of confederacy, all bound by their faith in their god, yet at the same time different Sects could have very differing opinions on certain practices or how they interpreted the will of R'hllor.
There was also the Great Council, which was held and hosted by the Volantene Temple, yet supposedly all Great Temples were equal there, which in reality the true power was held by the Temples with the most wealth and followers under their control.
Notably, the temple in Asshai, while powerful enough, was barely equal to Braavos' Temple, which said a lot about the state of that temple.
Anyway, I'm getting distracted.
Benerro stood up at my entering the chamber, alongside everybody else in the room. Over the course of the year me and Benerro had been working hard to establish myself as at least a figurehead for the temple, and it was working well.
But the proceedings of this meeting would thoroughly establish my power in the faith.
Ash mewled from beside me as I settled into a seat next to Benerro, and the meeting began.
"So, about our plans, they are coming close yes?" Asked Benerro to an armored figure across the table.
The man stood up and nodded, he was Vaenos, commander of the Fiery Hand.
"Yes, the Hand is prepared to act at any time." Benerro nodded, and turned to me.
"And you are sure you do not want to wait?" He asked, looking to Ash.
I sighed and brought a finger down to scratch her chin.
"It will be a few years yet for her to be capable of battle, but the sooner we do this, the better. I have many plans that require time with resources to bring to fruition."
He closed his eyes and nodded, then turned to everybody else with a grin.
"All right then, then we shall begin in a week's time."
"We shall set a flame so powerful nothing will stand in it's way."
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Taemys
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"Master, the council will convene in another hour." Taemys said, making his master sigh before gesturing his hand towards his companion.
"Oh the call of station, I shall have to continue our discussion later Gaema, duty never ends."
The silver haired Old Blood nodded and got up from her cushion, taking one last grape before walking away.
Taemys' Master looked to him.
"Before I forget, have a bath prepared for after the meeting."
Then with a tap on the palanquin he sat in, he was carried out of the elaborate tea-house the master enjoyed spending his off time in.
Taemys followed until his master was brought before an elephant outside, decorated elaborately with golden filigree and silken banners all over, the beast performed as the Triarchs' standard mode of transportation outside of buildings.
Many of them complained quietly about the rule that a Triarch cannot touch the ground for their entire tenure in office, but this was one of the few things that they always loved, to parade through the city with everybody giving their respects as they passed.
Taemys himself grabbed a reigns of a fine red horse that he had been assigned long ago. He could just about keep up with his master without one, but it would be unseemly for a house slave like him to work up such a sweat.
It was halfway through their commute that several riders came riding in like ghosts were chasing them.
"Grand Triarch! Hurry, we must get you to safety!"
His master leaned out of his mahogany elephant house with a raised brow.
"What? Surely you haven't let a riot break out?"
A riot in Volantis? The guards were far to professional to let such a thing happen during such a long stretch of peace.
"No, there is an army marching on the eastern wall!"
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Observing from a tall tower within the Black Walls, Taemys watched as three separate formations slowed down their march.
He wasn't much of an expert on anything military, but even he could see that each wore vastly differing arms and armor.
He made a guess that they were three separate forces, sellswords?
In front of each army rose a figure dressed in fine metal armor on a horse.
His master snorted.
"Sellswords of course, Mayhaps Myr or Lys are making a play, we haven't had much aggression from either in a while."
Another looked up, the silver haired Triarch.
"How did they manage to cross the Rhoyne without our knowing? Surely one of the patrols would have noticed, and neither city has attempted invading from such an ambitious angle, we should probably look to see if this is simply a distraction from the western territories."
His Master grunted.
"It doesn't matter either way, those sellswords will be endangering the eastern farms, we'll be seen as weak if we allow them to burn and pillage just the same as if we let Dothraki do so."
He grinned and gestured to an armored figure in the room, Rhaegal, grand commander of the armies of Volantis and a prominent member of the Tiger party.
"Rhaegal, be a good dear and get rid of them, though I admit I'm curious how you'll do so."
Rhaegal bowed his head.
"The solution is simple Triarch, a Bombardment with our scorpions before we sally out and destroy them. They are sellswords, no need to parlay with them."
His master nodded.
"Then it will be so."
Before his all could get to their duties, something caught Taemys' eye.
Tilting his head to look out from the balcony, he spotted that several towers throughout the city had smoke coming from them.
It was only once he'd noticed how thick and black it was that his eyes widened.
"Fire!" He said urgently, pointing them out.
Rhaegal immediately cursed and rushed out the room, shouting at his men and his master growled.
"Damnit! Get me somewhere the smoke cannot get me."
Hurriedly the palanquin slaves began rushing deeper into the stone palace, they should be relatively safe, wooden buildings aren't uncommon, but most of Volantis was built of stone especially in the eastern city, so as long as the army could get to work controlling the fires they should be easy enough to deal with.
Of course, the army at the gates wasn't going to help anything.
Taemys spotted a group of soldiers up ahead in full armor coming to meet them, elite warriors charged with guarding important officials, they wore full lamellar armor with luxurious tiger pelts hung over a shoulder and strapped in tight with their belts.
They specialized in the sword and had a large round shield in the other hand. The twenty man group made it obvious they were here to replace the guards they currently had, no risk could come to the Triarchs.
"My Triarch, hurry, there are riots in the streets!
His master cried outward
"What!?! how are all these things happening at-" He paused, before growling under his breath.
"Of course, I should have noticed at the fires. There is a coup! Treason!"
The soldiers tensed, before quickly circled the Triarch and assumed formation.
Taemys himself drew his dirk to aid the soldiers if it came to it, none would touch his master.
"There is a defensible room this way Triarch."
His master nodded.
The sounds of marching feet soon was the only thing that was heard.
Taemys kept a weary eye out, he had a duty to uphold.
Then as they were turning a corner, all came to a stumbling stop, the slaves holding the palanquin almost slamming into the soldiers from behind.
In front of them stood a small group of similarly armored soldiers with red cloth, bronze covered shields and flame styled spears.
Taemys paled, they were the Fiery Hand.
And the there could be only one reason they were here.
Their spears lowered from their block of 25 solders, five men abreast and five deep, forming an impassable barricade down the hall.
One spoke up.
"Surrender now and you will live."
His master straitened.
"Lower beings shall never rule this city! Attack!"
The honor guard, who twice outnumbered the religious soldiers, raised their swords and charged.
The close quarters and the prepared ranks of the Hand soldiers cut a bloody swath from the honor guard, but the heavy armor both wore allowed the Volantene soldiers to close in, many losing their shields, and begin stabbing at the red soldiers.
The fight turned into a bloody melee, and Taemys grit his teeth.
"Master, we should retreat."
His master shook his head.
"If we leave I'm defenseless, for better or worse..."
With a cry, the Fiery Hand were cut down to the last man, most hadn't been able to draw their short-swords in time to effectively fight back in the mess of wooden shafts and relative experts in swordplay.
Unfortunately, only 13 soldiers were left, 5 of those wounded.
The captain of the master's guard was also dead, so his lieutenant was forced to pick his sword up and point passed the bodies.
"The room is still this way, let's go." He said, voice now gruff and weary.
After toeing their way past the bloody corpses, they continued on their way.
Taemys continued to look behind him with worry.
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Bor
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Bor giggled to himself, just a little, not enough to alert anybody.
Dressed in stolen armor, he was distinctly uncomfortable, but even so his spirits were high.
Stretching a hand up high close to the support beams of the guard tower, he pressed a knife lightly into his hand, blood slowly trickling out.
Then with a muttered prayer and a flexing of will, his blood burst into a great conflagration, the floor above him quickly catching the flames to spread.
Quickly leaving the building, he cried and roared for everybody to run, screaming at anybody who would hear that the arsonists had run off towards the palace.
After his task was done, he found a good spot to watch the flames spread and giggle to himself again.
This, this was true ecstasy.
Truly, Daenerys was a gift from R'hllor, she had granted him the ability to burn and burn and burn!!!
He coughed, stifling his euphoria to focus on his next task.
Walking away from his spot, he grinned at the sight of all those wonderfully burnable buildings upon the Long Bridge.
It wasn't in the Plan, but the Blessed had a very noticeable love for architecture.
Surely she would love the chance to build something new from the ashes? What a lovely gift.
He giggled again under his breath as he made his way over.
A truly lovely gift for his queen.
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A/N – And so it begins.
As it where, I'm not too sure about the pacing, does this seem rushed?
