After three weeks of waiting and countless discussions, the day had finally arrived. An army of 40,000 Unsullied was to be delivered to me. The scale of this transaction had been kept in the utmost secrecy, known only to a select few. The exchange was set to take place on an open field outside Astapor, far from the watchful eyes of the city's inhabitants.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow across the landscape, Ser Barristan Selmy and I made our way to the designated meeting point. The air was thick with anticipation, and the gravity of the moment weighed heavily upon us. This wasn't just a simple transaction; it was a turning point, a shift in power that could alter the course of history.
The field was vast, with nothing but the distant silhouette of Astapor's walls breaking the endless expanse. As we approached, the sight before us was awe-inspiring—40,000 Unsullied, standing in perfect formation, a testament to their unmatched discipline and training. They were the ultimate soldiers, bred and conditioned to obey without question, and now they awaited their new master.
Kraznys mo Nakloz was already present, surrounded by his fellow Good Masters and their guards. He wore a look of smug satisfaction as he prepared to hand over the ceremonial whip, the symbol of control over the Unsullied. His arrogance was palpable, his eyes gleaming with greed as he eyed the gold I had delivered.
As we stood before the vast ranks of Unsullied, Kraznys began his speech, extolling the virtues of the soldiers he was about to sell. But even as he droned on, I felt a strange tension in the air, as if the very atmosphere had shifted.
And then, it happened.
A shadow passed over the field, causing the Unsullied to shift uneasily. The sky darkened, not with the approach of a storm, but with something far more formidable. The distant sound of wingbeats grew louder, reverberating through the air. The Good Masters, their smug expressions faltering, looked up in confusion.
A deafening roar split the sky, and from the heavens descended Frostfyre—a dragon of terrifying beauty and power. Its icy blue and white scales gleamed in the fading light, and the cold flames that flickered from its jaws sent shivers through even the bravest hearts. The temperature around us plummeted as Frostfyre landed with a thunderous impact, its massive wings sending gusts of cold wind sweeping across the field.
Atop the mighty dragon was Daenerys Targaryen, the true Queen of Westeros. Her silver hair flowed behind her like a banner, and she exuded an aura of majesty and strength. Every eye was drawn to her, the Good Masters now trembling in fear as they realized the power she commanded.
With regal grace, Daenerys dismounted from Frostfyre, her every movement radiating authority. She strode forward, her presence commanding the attention of all who stood before her. The Unsullied, sensing the extraordinary moment, stood even straighter, their eyes fixed on the dragon queen.
Without a word, she extended her hand, and I handed her the ceremonial whip. The significance of the gesture was not lost on anyone present. Daenerys held the whip aloft, her voice ringing out clear and strong as she addressed the Unsullied.
"Blood of my blood," Daenerys began in flawless Valyrian, every word imbued with power and authority. "You have been slaves, denied freedom and dignity. Today, that changes. Today, you are no longer tools of war. You are free men!"
The Good Masters exchanged nervous glances, not fully grasping the shift in power that was occurring before them. But the Unsullied understood, and a murmur ran through their ranks.
Daenerys continued, her voice rising as she spoke. "I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, Breaker of Chains. I offer you your freedom! Will you follow me as free men, or will you remain in chains?"
The Unsullied stood silent for a moment, processing the weight of her words. Then, one by one, they began to raise their spears and strike the ground in unison. The sound grew louder and louder until it was a deafening roar, a powerful affirmation of their loyalty to Daenerys.
Kraznys, finally realizing the magnitude of his mistake, tried to protest, his voice wavering with fear. "You cannot do this! They are ours! They are slaves!"
Daenerys turned her gaze on him, her expression cold as ice. "They were slaves," she said in Valyrian, her tone deadly calm. "Now they are mine. And I do not buy slaves. I free them."
With a single command in Valyrian, Daenerys ordered Frostfyre to unleash its cold flames. The dragon reared back and released a torrent of icy blue fire that engulfed Kraznys and the other Good Masters. The flames burned with a freezing intensity, turning their screams into silence as they were consumed by the dragon's wrath.
As the fires died down, nothing remained of the Good Masters but ashes and ice. The Unsullied, now free men, turned to Daenerys and fell to one knee, pledging their loyalty to their new queen. The sight of 40,000 warriors kneeling before her was a powerful testament to her strength and leadership.
Daenerys turned to me, her expression softening slightly as she spoke. "Together, we will change the world. With the Unsullied at our side and Frostfyre in the sky, there is nothing we cannot achieve."
I nodded, feeling a deep sense of respect and admiration for the woman who had just claimed command of one of the most formidable armies in the world. The Game of Thrones had entered a new phase, and with Daenerys by my side, I was ready to see it through to the end.
Arya Stark's POV
I watched from the shadows, my heart a knot of conflicting emotions. From my vantage point, I could see everything—the disciplined ranks of the Unsullied, the smug faces of the Good Masters, and the stoic expression of the man who had brought me here. The man who now held my fate in his hands.
I was no longer Arya Stark, the girl who once dreamed of revenge and justice. I was something else entirely, shaped by the cruel hand of fate and the machinations of those more powerful than me. My thoughts were a whirlwind as I considered what was about to happen. The Unsullied were about to change hands, but would they truly be free? Or were they merely exchanging one master for another?
As I watched the events unfold, a shadow passed over the field, and I felt a shiver run down my spine. The air grew colder, and I knew something was coming—something that would change everything.
My gaze followed the eyes of the Unsullied and the Good Masters as they looked up, their expressions turning from confusion to fear. The roar that followed was unlike anything I had ever heard—a sound that seemed to shake the very earth beneath my feet. And then I saw it: Frostfyre, the most magnificent and terrifying creature I had ever laid eyes on.
The dragon's scales gleamed in the fading light, a stunning mix of icy blue and white that sent a chill through the air. Its presence was overwhelming, a force of nature that seemed to dwarf everything around it. And atop the dragon, like a conqueror descending from the heavens, was Daenerys Targaryen.
The Mother of Dragons had arrived.
I had heard tales of her—stories whispered in the alleys and taverns of cities. They spoke of a queen who would rise from the ashes and topple Westeros. But seeing her in person, commanding the very skies, was something else entirely. She was more than a queen; she was a force of nature, like the dragon she rode.
As Daenerys dismounted and began to speak, her voice carrying across the field in a language I did not understand, I felt a strange sense of awe and unease. This was no ordinary woman. This was someone who could change the world, for better or for worse.