The sunset bathed Slaver's Bay in a serene and golden glow.
Under the vast sky, four small ships sailed northward, dwarfed by the endless ocean.
Playful dolphins leaped around the ship's wake, their joyful cries echoing through the calm evening air.
On the deck of one of the ships, Cleopatra the white dragon sprawled lazily, its immense weight causing the opposite end of the ship to lift slightly out of the water.
When Cleopatra first attempted to land, the old captain's face turned as pale as a corpse pulled from the sea. Thankfully, the ship had just enough capacity to bear the dragon's weight without capsizing. Nevertheless, the captain immediately ordered the crew to redistribute the cargo to balance the vessel.
Daenerys Targaryen couldn't hide her amazement at the white dragon, circling it repeatedly, running her hands over its scales, patting its tail, and peppering Samwell with questions about how he had raised it to such an enormous size.
Samwell's answer was the same as always: "It eats a lot."
Daenerys wasn't entirely convinced but had no better explanation.
Her three dragons were equally curious about this massive kin. Viserion and Rhaegal clambered over Cleopatra's back, only to be swatted away by its tail. Undeterred, they kept trying to climb back on.
Drogon, the black dragon, displayed a more composed demeanor, perching near Cleopatra's neck and hissing softly as if attempting to communicate. Cleopatra, however, seemed wholly uninterested.
Daenerys ordered her handmaids to bring fresh meat. Taking a chunk herself, she held it aloft and waved it teasingly.
Her three dragons fixated on the meat, hungry and alert, while Cleopatra remained indifferent, seemingly unimpressed by the offering.
"Dracarys," Daenerys commanded before tossing the meat into the air.
Drogon lunged with lightning speed, roaring as a mixture of red and orange flames engulfed the meat, charring it mid-air.
Viserion and Rhaegal darted in, each grabbing an end and tearing into the sizzling chunk, snarling as they fought over it.
"That means 'dragonfire' in High Valyrian," Daenerys explained to Samwell. "I've been training them to respond to commands using words no one else would accidentally say. Does your dragon have a command word?"
"Yes," Samwell replied with a wry smile, "but I'd rather not say it out loud. If Cleopatra breathed fire here, this entire ship would go up in flames."
Daenerys chuckled, then tossed the remaining meat to her dragons. This time, Cleopatra joined in, snatching the largest piece with ease.
"Your dragon doesn't eat much," Daenerys observed, curious.
"It already ate its fill on the way here—caught a few large fish," Samwell said, scratching Cleopatra under its chin. The dragon closed its eyes in apparent contentment.
Daenerys reached out to touch the dragon's scales, the gentle sea breeze lifting her silver hair and carrying a scent of orchids and exotic spices.
"I've loved the sea since I was a child," she said, gazing at the shimmering golden waves. "I once dreamed of becoming a sailor."
"Because you're 'Stormborn,'" Samwell quipped.
He knew Daenerys had been born on Dragonstone during a fierce storm that destroyed the Targaryen fleet and their last hope of reclaiming the Iron Throne.
"Yes." Daenerys chuckled, scratching Drogon's chin as he leaned in. "When I told my brother Viserys, he yanked my hair and shouted, 'You're a true dragon, not some stinking fish!'"
"Sounds like you had a temperamental brother."
"Temperamental, cruel, and foolish," Daenerys admitted, her expression turning somber. "But he was also a victim of our reality. As a child, he was kind and gentle. He used to tell me stories about the Seven Kingdoms and promised to marry me and make me his queen once we reclaimed the Iron Throne.
"Reality drove him mad. The assassins sent by the usurper forced us to flee constantly, moving from one city to the next, always welcomed initially, but abandoned when we asked for aid.
"They called him the Beggar King."
"No king ever claimed a throne through begging," Samwell said bluntly. "Help offered freely can just as easily be taken away. The only power you can truly rely on is your own."
"You're right." Daenerys nodded solemnly, recalling the struggles and betrayals she had faced.
If she had a strong army or three fully grown dragons, she wouldn't have endured such hardships.
Dragons took time to mature, but an army…
Daenerys thought of Jorah's suggestion: the Unsullied of Astapor, the famed slave soldiers.
"Samwell, your knight mentioned you have a gift for me in Astapor?"
"Yes."
"Can I ask what it is?"
"Have you heard of the Unsullied?"
"Of course." Daenerys nodded. "They've handed the Dothraki some of their most humiliating defeats. Are you planning to buy the Unsullied for me?"
"For us," Samwell corrected, "and not buy—I don't have enough gold to purchase that many."
"Not buy?" Daenerys tilted her head. "Then how will you gift them?"
"We'll take them," Samwell said, a predatory smile playing on his lips.
"Take them? Do you have an army with you?"
"No. I only brought one dragon."
"You think Cleopatra alone can conquer Astapor?" Daenerys frowned, starting to doubt his boldness.
Samwell laughed heartily. "Of course not. We'll use a bit of cunning."
"What's the plan?"
"When we reach Astapor, tell the slavers you'll trade one of your dragons for their Unsullied."
"One of my dragons?" Daenerys exclaimed, horrified. "I'd never sell them!"
"You're not really selling a dragon," Samwell explained. "Dragons aren't slaves—they can't be sold. This is just a ruse to get the slavers to hand over command of the Unsullied.
"I suggest using one of your smaller dragons to avoid suspicion. Once they transfer command of the Unsullied, you say the command word—burn them.
"Then your dragon is still yours, and the Unsullied army and Astapor are ours."
Daenerys stared at Samwell, her heart racing. It took her a moment to respond:
"But how can you be sure the Unsullied will obey us after we violate the deal? Isn't that a risk?"
"Technically, the deal will have been completed. The Unsullied will be ours, conditioned by years of brutal training to follow commands without question.
"And then we give them something their masters never did: freedom."
"Freedom?"
"Yes. Slavery is a crime under Westerosi law. We'll be delivering justice to the slavers and granting the Unsullied their liberty. They'll fight for us as free men."
"This… could work?" Daenerys was stunned by the audacity of his plan.
"Of course," Samwell said confidently.
Inwardly, he marveled at the irony of explaining to Daenerys the very plan she had originally devised. To see her surprised by her own strategy felt strangely surreal.
"And even if something goes wrong, Cleopatra ensures we can retreat safely," Samwell added.
Daenerys gazed at him, admiring his boldness and resourcefulness. A thought crossed her mind: If my brother Viserys had this kind of wisdom and courage, perhaps he would already be ruling Westeros.
"Fine!" she declared, her determination set. "We'll do it your way. Together, we'll liberate Astapor!"
(End of Chapter)