**Arren's Perspective**
The fires of Astapor had long since died down, but the city still smelled of smoke and scorched earth. The cries of battle and rebellion had been replaced with a different kind of noise—the bustling of freed men and women trying to find their place in a world that had just been upended. Arren moved through the streets of the newly liberated city, blindfolded as always, yet he felt every vibration in the ground, every shift in the air around him.
Astapor had been a city built on cruelty, and now, it was Daenerys Targaryen's responsibility to turn it into something else—something better. Arren had been by her side every step of the way, offering counsel and ensuring her safety, but this task was unlike anything they had faced before. Conquering the city had been one thing, but ruling it? That was an entirely different challenge.
Daenerys had freed the slaves, and with their freedom came chaos. Thousands of men, women, and children who had lived their whole lives under the yoke of the Masters now found themselves without direction, without purpose. The Masters were dead, their grip on the city broken, but the slaves were still unsure how to live without chains.
Arren stood at the center of the city square, listening to the murmurs of the freedmen as they gathered in groups, some discussing their future, others lost in confusion. They had spent their entire lives being told what to do, and now they had to learn how to make choices for themselves.
Daenerys had tasked Arren with helping to organize the city, to set up a structure that would allow it to function while she moved on. She couldn't stay in Astapor forever, not with so many challenges ahead. But she didn't want to leave the city to fall back into chaos either. They needed a government, a structure that could keep the peace and provide for the people in her absence.
Arren, standing at the edge of the city square, could hear Daenerys giving orders nearby. She was working tirelessly to bring some form of order to the city, to give the freed slaves a system of governance. But the weight of leadership was heavy on her. Arren had spent enough time with her to know that this wasn't what she had wanted. She had wanted to free the people, yes, but ruling them? That had never been her plan.
She was learning, though. And Arren was there to guide her.
"You're trying to do the impossible," Arren had told her earlier that day when they had sat down to discuss the future of Astapor.
"I freed them," Daenerys had replied, her voice firm but laced with uncertainty. "I cannot just leave them without a future."
Arren had nodded. "Then you need to build one for them. A council, perhaps. People they trust, people who can lead in your name."
And so, Daenerys had begun organizing a council of former slaves, men and women who could represent the different groups within the city. It was a start, but there was still so much work to be done. Arren moved among the crowds, listening, offering advice where it was needed, but he knew that this was a slow, painstaking process. The foundations of the city were being rebuilt from the ground up, and it would take time before it could stand on its own.
As he walked through the streets, Arren felt the familiar weight of his sword at his side. The battles were not over, but for now, they were fighting a different kind of war—one of governance, of diplomacy, of leadership.
And in the back of his mind, the words still echoed. *"You're not ready for the pit, but you're getting closer."*
The pit had been a place where strength ruled, where only the strongest survived. And now, as he watched Daenerys build something new, something better, Arren couldn't help but feel that this, too, was a pit in its own way. A different kind of test. But one that Daenerys would face with the same determination she had shown on the battlefield.
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**Grey Worm's Perspective**
The streets of Astapor were filled with the sounds of rebellion and freedom. The city had been taken, the Masters overthrown, and the Unsullied now stood as protectors, not slaves. Grey Worm marched through the streets with his fellow Unsullied, their spears at the ready, but there was no need for battle now. The Masters were dead or fleeing, and the city belonged to Daenerys Targaryen.
Grey Worm had never known freedom before. He had been taken as a child, trained as an Unsullied, and had lived his entire life under the control of the Masters. But Daenerys had freed him—freed all of them—and now, for the first time, he had a choice.
As he led his men through the streets, Grey Worm's thoughts returned to the day the city had fallen. The Masters had whipped them, beaten them, treated them as nothing more than tools for their own gain. But now, those same Masters were being hunted down, their power shattered.
Grey Worm had taken personal satisfaction in the deaths of some of the Masters who had overseen his training. One of them had whipped him until his back bled for dropping his spear in training. That same Master had begged for mercy before Grey Worm had driven his spear through the man's chest.
But as they moved deeper into the city, Grey Worm saw something unexpected. Some of the Masters were already dead, not by the hands of the Unsullied, but by their own slaves. A revolt had begun, and the people were rising up against their former oppressors.
He stopped by one such scene—a Master's body, bloodied and broken, lying in the street. A group of former slaves stood around him, their faces hard, their hands still stained with his blood. Grey Worm felt no pity for the dead man. This was justice. But there was more to it than that.
The Unsullied were part of something larger now. They were not just soldiers—they were the beginning of a new era for Astapor. Grey Worm knew that the men who followed Daenerys would do so not because they were forced to, but because they believed in her. She had shown them something no one else had: respect. She had freed them, and she had not asked for their loyalty in return. She had simply earned it.
Grey Worm looked up at the towering walls of the city. Astapor was theirs now, and he would defend it with his life. He would follow Daenerys Targaryen wherever she led, not because she held the whip, but because she was the only one who had ever cared about the Unsullied as more than soldiers.
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