(This chapter is dedicated to all those who are alone for Christmas and have nothing better to do 👍🏻)
Daeron was currently sitting at the table on Daenerys balcony, it had passed sunset and they were enjoying the night air while sharing a drink. They had massively enjoyed each other's company while in the city so they decided they should just pick up from where they left off, except now Daenerys wholeheartedly believed in all the adventures that Daeron had been on.
Daenerys couldn't stop the laughter from coming out when Daeron told her of his and Arthur's trek towards the Starry Mountains in Sothoryos "I must say I am quite surprised that you and Arthur managed to make it there alive with the amount of bad luck you seemed to have" she said as she smiled towards him.
Daeron chuckled as well "I am unsure as well, though I'm sure a great part of it was luck so it evened out in the end" he said as she took a sip from his cup.
He then looked towards Daenerys "Tell me of your life Aunt, it can't have been easy" he asked and Daenerys nodded slightly.
"Please call me Daenerys or Dany, Aunt makes me feel old," she said with a small laugh "It was difficult, we nearly lost Mother after she gave birth to me but we were lucky to have a skilled maester willing to make the journey across the narrow sea to Braavos" she explained.
"After Ser Darry died and the assassins found us we realised we couldn't stay in Braavos much longer, so we went on the run from city to city" she told him as she looked at the table.
Daeron frowned "That must've been difficult" he said with sympathy in his voice.
"If we had not had Viserys with us I shudder to think what might've become of us, he did everything he could to keep us safe and fed. Whether it was working manual jobs or stealing food he did anything to keep us happy" she said her voice trembling slightly as she wiped her eyes.
Daeron placed his hand on Daenerys' "You have a noble brother, something we both have in common, I'll be glad to get to know him" he said trying to comfort her.
Daenerys nodded as she smiled "He certainly is, I just hope he'll recover soon, it hurts knowing he is injured because of me"
Daeron shook his head "It is not your fault Dany, he fought knowing what would likely happen, the one at fault is Illyrio for setting up this damn betrothal, but don't worry by noon tomorrow it'll be over" he said reassuringly.
Daenerys stood up from her seat and walked over to Daeron before embracing him "Thank you..." she whispered into his ear before withdrawing and kissing him on the cheek "I think I'll retire for the night, today has been quite eventful"
Daeron nodded and stood up "I believe I'll retire as well, it has been quite a long day for the both of us" he said as he kissed her on the cheek before leaving her room.
Daeron walked through the lavishly decorated corridors of Illyrio's manse, he couldn't help but appreciate how beautiful it was 'Perhaps when this is all over I could build myself a manse like this' he thought to himself as he turned into the guest wing where his room was.
As he entered his room he sighed and slumped his shoulders, he'd only arrived a short time ago and yet so much had happened, he was starting to feel like he'd never get a moment of peace. His mind was drawn back to Old Town and the time he spent there with Margaery helping out at the orphanage, he had to admit that was some of the best moments of his life, a simple life like that suited him well.
Daeron took off his sword belt and undressed himself getting completely naked before walking carefully to the bed to not make any noise. He slipped into his bed and under the blanket, he felt himself harden as he saw the naked form of Ashara, he wondered if she had even asked for her quarters or if he'd told his Grandmother she'd be sharing his but either way Daeron was content. He slipped behind her spooning her from behind, she instinctively snuggled into him and he wrapped his arm around her, she wiggled her backside against Daeron which made him tense slightly, but he quickly found himself drifting off as he held her.
———————————————————-
*DONG*
*DONG*
Daeron woke up startled as he heard the bells of the city ring out through the city "Daeron? What's going on" Ashara asked in a sleepy voice as she turned around to face him.
Daeron frowned as he slipped out of bed walked over to the doors to the balcony and opened them, the sounds of screaming immediately assaulted his ears. Parts of the city were on fire and it was slowly encroaching on the manse, Daeron immediately ran back inside "Get dressed now! We need to leave" he said firmly before quickly putting on his clothing, he attached his sword to his belt "Daeron! What's happening" Ashara asked as she removed the blanket from herself.
"The city is under attack by the Dothraki, I'm sure you can guess what they're after," Daeron said before putting on his boots "Get dressed and grab anything you need to have, we will meet by the entrance" he said her to which she nodded and got out of bed.
"What will you be doing?" She asked as she put on her small clothes. Daeron who was already halfway out the door turned around "I need to get everyone up and out, we don't have much time" he told her before disappearing out of her room. Daeron ran down the corridors of the manse and as he turned a corner he ran into Arthur.
"Daeron!"
"Arthur!"
They both shouted at each other "The Dothraki are attacking the city it won't be long until they reach here" Arthur told him with a severe look on his face. Daeron nodded "Is everyone awake?" He asked and Arthur nodded in return.
"You and Ashara are the last ones I was coming to wake, truth be told I'd thought you'd wake up sooner" Arthur replied.
Daeron sighed "It was a long day yesterday, how is Viserys can he walk?"
Arthur nodded "He has a bit of a limp but he'll be able to manage, we need to make it to the Docks, there will be plenty of ships there we can take one"
Daeron nodded in agreement "Get everyone ready and out front, including any servants and guards who want to join us, we'll take the ship we came here on" Arthur nodded and quickly followed his orders running back where he came.
Daeron continued to jog down the corridors heading deeper into the manse, this was the home of one of the richest merchants in Pentos, he'd be stupid to at least not take a look around.
———————————————————-
"Daeron what were you doing? We need to leave now" Arthur shouted as he saw Daeron leave the manse and enter the courtyard,
Daeron smiled sheepishly as he gave Ashara a bag that he was carrying "Just had to have a look around but I'm here now" Daeron replied, he looked around at all of the servants and guards that had taken the offer to join him, truth be told it was more than he thought but that was a good thing as it increased their chances of escaping "Guards form a perimeter around us, Arthur you take the front and lead them towards the Docks I'll protect the rear" he commanded, while the guards were quite unsure of taking orders from someone so young as soon as they saw Arthur obey they did as well.
Both Arthur and Daeron unsheathed their swords as their party left the manse and moved through the city. As Daeron and his companions manoeuvred through the besieged city, they found themselves fending off relentless waves of Dothraki assailants. The chaotic sounds of the battle reverberated all around them, accompanied by the desperate shouts of the residents attempting to flee. Daeron kept a close eye out as they moved through the streets, they tried to keep to the alleyways and stay away from the main roads but often a Dothraki Screamer would find them.
In the midst of the tumult, Daeron's focus remained sharp. He swiftly intercepted a Dothraki screamer who had attempted to flank their group, his Valyrian steel sword meeting the curved arakh with a resounding clash. With a skillful parry, Daeron neutralized the screamer's attack before launching a swift counterstrike that sent the warrior's head rolling off his body "Maintain a tight formation, don't let any of them through" Daeron commanded
*Clang*
Daeron looked to the front of their group to see Arthur had run into a group of Dothraki, he was tempted to go and help his friend but he knew he couldn't leave the rear exposed for not so long as a second. But he needn't have worried anyway, even if he was older and not as in practice as he used to be, Arthur was still the Sword of the Morning. Arthur's movements were deadly, each step calculated and precise. As the first Dothraki charged, Arthur sidestepped, allowing the arakh to graze his armour. With a lightning-fast riposte, Dawn plunged into the warrior's exposed side, slicing through flesh and bone with a sickening crunch, a gush of crimson marking the violent end.
Arthur evaded the combined assault of the two other Dothraki, his feet gliding across the ground with remarkable agility. With a fluid manoeuvre, he disarmed one combatant and pivoted, delivering a crushing pommel strike to the man's temple, sending him crashing to the dirt, dazed and defeated. Meanwhile, the second warrior met the lethal arc of Dawn, which sliced effortlessly through his defences, carving a deep gash across his chest, a bloom of scarlet staining his sun-darkened skin.
The next opponent lunged recklessly, but Arthur's keen reflexes allowed him to evade the strike. Taking advantage of the opening, Arthur swiftly beheaded the charging warrior in a single powerful stroke, the man's head rolling across the blood-soaked ground, eyes frozen in an eternal gaze of shock and horror.
Two more Dothraki warriors closed in, their eyes fixed on Arthur with a fervent determination. Arthur met their charge head-on, the clash of steel ringing through the chaos of the battlefield. With a skilful manoeuvre, he parried a brutal strike before delivering a vicious counterattack that opened the belly of one of the assailants, spilling his innards onto the ground in a gruesome display.
The last Dothraki, eyes wide with fear, hesitated for a moment, realizing the fate that awaited him. Before he could react, Arthur's blade sliced through the air with lethal accuracy, separating the warrior's head from his body in a spray of blood and sinew, the lifeless corpse crumpling to the ground in a heap. Daeron couldn't help but chuckle to himself 'As if there was ever any doubt' he thought to himself.
Daeron focused back on protecting the rear when a Dothraki came rushing round the corner on horseback, acting quickly Daeron pushed himself off the wall and dragged the man off the horse, they rolled both fell to the ground and quickly got up on their feet where Daeron found himself being grabbed and thrown nearly 10 feet back. When he got up he looked at the Dothraki who had thrown him 'Fuck' he thought to himself as he saw the Dothraki before him.
Daeron grabbed the closest guard "Tell Arthur to keep going towards the docks and I'll meet him there" he said before pushing him away. He didn't take his eyes off the Dothraki in front of him for even a second as the man in front of him was none other than Khal Drogo 'I'm starting to believe Dany was right about me having bad luck' he thought to himself as he held his sword in front of him.
The Khal stared at him as he unhooked his Arakh "Yer zhorre anna khalessi anha zala mae irge (You have my future Queen I want her back)" he said in a deep rumbling voice.
Daeron smirked at him "Yeri khalessi ajjin ray anni (Your Queen is already mine)" he said making the Khal scowl. They both stared each other down as the city burned around them, the screaming had yet to stop and Daeron couldn't help but feel nervous, he had no magic to bail him out so he had to rely on his skill 'I have to kill him quickly and get to the ship' he thought to himself as he clenched his hands around the blade.
Their blades clashed with a deafening resonance, the metallic tang of blood permeating the air. Daeron and Khal Drogo circled each other with lethal intent, the intensity of their gazes matching the relentless pace of their strikes. The clash of their weapons sent sparks flying, and each blow met with fierce retaliation. The flames licked at the periphery of their battleground, casting an eerie glow over the chaotic scene.
Amid the chaos, Daeron's sword sliced through the air, his movements swift. Khal Drogo's brutal strikes were met with deft parries and ripostes, as Daeron expertly manoeuvred to exploit any weakness in his opponent's defence. Drogo lunged forward, his arakh whistling through the smoky haze. Daeron sidestepped, countering with a sweeping arc that met Drogo's weapon in a clash of sparks. The heat of the flames seemed to intensify as the fighters' efforts surged, the rhythm of their combat driving them both to the edge of exhaustion. Drogo's ferocity pushed Daeron back, testing his resolve as each parry threatened to drain his strength.
Khal Drogo's Arakh sliced through the space, its lethal edge aiming for Daeron's throat. In a quick counter, Daeron managed to block the blow, his sword meeting the Arakh with a resounding clang. The force of the strike caused Daeron to stagger, his grip on the sword nearly slipping from his fingers. With a sudden twist of his body, he evaded the kick launched by the Khal, the momentum carrying him to the side just in time.
Recovering swiftly, Daeron shifted his sword to his other hand, his eyes fixed on Drogo's movements. Seizing the opportunity, he lunged forward with a lethal thrust, his blade aimed at the Khal's neck. Drogo's instincts kicked in, and he leaned back, the blade barely grazing the hairs on his chin. The Khal growled as he then stepped forward and counterattacked, Drogo's Arakh scraped along Daeron's arm, leaving a deep gash that began to seep blood, while Daeron's sword managed to find purchase on Drogo's shoulder, drawing a line of crimson across his tanned skin.
Drogo's ferocity was matched only by Daeron's tenacity, each blow exchanged with calculated precision and raw power. Drogo's Arakh slashed through the air once more, aiming for Daeron's midsection, but Daeron managed to twist aside at the last moment, narrowly evading the fatal strike. In response, Daeron launched a fierce series of quick slashes, each one finding its mark on Drogo's chest and arms, drawing fresh rivulets of blood. Daeron was having a difficult time ending this fight as the Khal wasn't like other enemies he'd faced before, he was strong but he was almost nearly as fast as he was. He was used to always being faster than his opponents but here his advantage seemed to be useless.
Daeron avoided another swing by the Khal but couldn't avoid the fist that was thrown his way which managed to connect with his face and send him reeling, with his vision momentarily useless he listened out for the Khal's footsteps and the sound of his sword. He heard him get closer to him while Daeron was still nursing his face, he didn't want to win this way but he didn't have time to waste, so he'd trick the Khal into letting his guard down by making him think he couldn't defend himself.
The Khal walked over to Daeron with a smirk as he brought up his Arakh to kill Daeron, but as he brought it down Daeron quickly brought his sword up. With a sudden spin, he redirected the Khal's arcing strike, causing Drogo's Arakh to clash violently with the side of Daeron's sword, forming a temporary lock that jarred the larger man's grip. Seizing the moment, Daeron shifted his weight, pivoting low to the ground, and then sprung upward, leveraging the momentum to disarm the Khal with a swift upward thrust that sent the Arakh spiralling away.
The Khal looked completely shocked at the turn of events as he looked at his hands no longer seeing his weapon there. Though he quickly snapped himself out of it when he saw Daeron go in for the kill, he roared and charged at Daeron who had brought his sword up high to slay him, Drogo grabbed him and they both smashed into the wooden building behind them that was already engulfed in flames. Khal Drogo stopped charging allowing Daeron to roll across the floor with his own sword being flung out of his arms.
Daeron pushed himself up as he saw the Khal stand before him, they were both unarmed and Daeron knew he wouldn't stand a chance in a fistfight against him, he wasn't nearly as experienced in that field. He looked over to see his sword on the other side of the room, the Khal noticed this as well and smirked at him, Daeron quickly rushed towards his sword trying to get there before the Khal reached him. Khal Drogo's powerful frame lunged forward, his thickly corded muscles propelling him into the fray with intense fervour. Daeron braced himself as the Khal's massive fist swung towards him, the force of the blow knocking him back against a charred wall. Daeron gritted his teeth, pushing himself off the wall, only to receive another heavy blow that sent him crashing to the floor.
Struggling to regain his footing, Daeron rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a powerful stomp from the Khal. Daeron quickly pushed himself up and sprang forward, delivering a swift series of jabs and hooks to the Khal's midsection, each strike landing with a satisfying thud. The Khal grunted, clearly affected, but swiftly countered with a kick that caught Daeron off guard, knocking him across the room.
Undeterred, Daeron staggered back up, the taste of blood in his mouth as he fixed his gaze on the relentless Khal. He sidestepped another wild swing, launching a flurry of rapid strikes aimed at the Khal's face, catching him off balance. The Khal grunted and stumbled backwards, allowing Daeron to rush past him trying to escape. Daeron's heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted up the smouldering staircase, the crackling flames roaring behind him. However, The Khal's iron grip closed around his ankle, jerking him back with a sudden jolt. Daeron's instincts took over, and he lashed out with a swift kick, connecting solidly with the Khal's face. The Khal grunted, momentarily stunned, allowing Daeron to wrench his leg free and propel himself up the stairs. However, the Khal's pursuit didn't abate as he stormed up the stairs, his heavy footfalls echoing through the flaming corridors. Daeron, still reeling from the effects of the battle, attempted to defend himself, but the Khal's powerful strikes found their mark time and again. Blow after bone-shattering blow rained down on him, leaving Daeron battered and bruised.
Daeron's vision blurred, and the world around him seemed to waver as he struggled to stay upright. The Khal's massive fists slammed into his torso and face with unrelenting force, sending him careening backwards with each impact. His ribs protested with agonizing pain, and he tasted the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. Despite his valiant efforts, Daeron found himself unable to counter the Khal's overwhelming assault.
The burning building seemed to sway around them, the crackling flames painting an otherworldly dance of light and shadow. Daeron's desperation grew, and with a last surge of energy, he managed to land a few punches, eliciting grunts of surprise from the Khal. Yet, his efforts were met with a renewed onslaught, and the Khal's brutal pummeling continued.
With a sharp intake of breath, Daeron evaded the Khal's next attack, managing to land a well-aimed kick to his knee. The Khal's bellow of pain was music to Daeron's ears as he followed up with a swift headbutt to the nose, eliciting a growl of frustration. As the Khal regained his footing, Daeron knew he had to act swiftly.
Summoning every last bit of his strength, he braced himself against the bannister, waiting for the Khal's next move. With a thunderous roar, the Khal lunged forward, aiming to send Daeron hurtling into the flames below. But Daeron was ready. Anticipating the Khal's assault, he propelled himself off the second-floor balcony, vaulting through the air with a practised grace. His outstretched hands found purchase on the chandelier, and he swung away from the Khal's reach, watching with a mixture of relief and grim satisfaction as the Khal plummeted into the fire below them.
Daeron breathed a sigh of relief as he smiled at the sound of the Khal screaming, he allowed himself to fall into the fires below. He walked through the flames to the Khal who was being burned alive "Tat vo lajat anna she vorsa (You chose the wrong place to fight me)" he said with a smile as he stood up and picked up his sword before leaving the burning building, his leather jerkin was steaming and his breeches were burnt but he was fine.
Daeron rushed through the streets heading towards the docks when he saw a group of Dothraki harassing the guards who had formed a shield wall to hold them off, further inside he could see Arthur quickly trying to untie the ship. Daeron acted quickly and attacked the group from behind, killing one Dothraki after the other, the Guards who were emboldened by his return switched from fighting defensively to being offensive and breaking formation to kill the Dothraki.
With the surprise attack from behind the small group was quickly dispatched and Daeron quickly ran up to Arthur "Are we ready to depart?" He asked as he breathed heavily.
Arthur looked up at Daeron's burnt and bruised form raising an eyebrow "Did you get him?" He asked.
"Barely, if he hadn't made a mistake I probably would've been beaten to death, I really need to find a teacher for unarmed combat" Daeron replied.
Arthur chuckled "Get onboard and take the wheel, I had to kill most of the crew that remained" Daeron nodded and went aboard the ship, after the ship was untied they lowered the sails and were quickly moving away from the burning city. After a while, Daeron gave the wheel to someone else and quickly went inside one of the cabins and passed out.
(AN: So yeah now we can time skip and see what the others are up to, and Jon and co's trip to Valyria is finally getting close. But this is not the last we've seen of the Dothraki, hope you enjoyed the chapter)
If you like my stuff consider supporting me
Patreon.com/Captainalfie78Works