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The commander of the Lion’s Teeth sellsword company stood tall as he waited to see who this Queen of Mereen was, having only paid a little mind to the rumors. Jaime no longer went by the name of Lannister, the name gave no weight in Essos and those that knew it only knew of his uncle’s fools errand to go to the Doom. No, Jaime was just known in Essos as The Lion, not the Lion of Lannister as he had been before his exile when he was seventeen. He had killed his king, yes, but Robert had tried to fully pardon him when he took the throne. He dare not allow that, not when he had broken sacred oaths, even if for a good reason.

Jaime went pale when he looked up at the woman as she walked in, it was like looking at a younger Queen Rhaella. That meant the Queen of Mereen he had been hearing whispers of could only be a Targaryen. He drops to one knee, bowing his head and feeling panic that she would not care why he’d killed her father. “Your grace, I came to offer the service of the Lion’s Teeth.”

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Willas stood beside his grandmother, as straight as his bad leg would allow him. This whole situation still felt surreal to him, his sister and brothers gone, father too. Chased from Highgarden itself from Ironborn, his people left to fend for themselves by the Lannisters, even the one person he could confide in was gone. It felt like it was all a part of a bad nightmare, and he prayed that if it was that he would wake up soon. As it stood, their last hope stood before them. He was a boy when his family had last sided with the Targaryens, but they had sided with them until the end of the Rebellion.

“Your grace, we have come to pledge Highgarden’s support for your retaking of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Queen Daenerys‌:

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@neithergodsnormen​

╣❦╠ ƈօռզʊɛʀɨռɢ ֆȶօʀʍ ❧

The city was bustling with trade even as the last of the slaver ships sank beneath the waves and her new Dothraki army’s massive  encampment had messengers riding south to tell the slavers of Volantis, Astapor, and Yunkai that their broken treaty would be rewarded with fire and blood. Daenerys had the Meereen Council handling court now, but Missandei alerted her to a new mercenary Captain’s desire for an audience so she agreed to see him in the private library on the top floor of the pyramid. When Daenerys stepped into the library, she was surprised to find her guest already waiting.

One eyebrow arched as he went to one knee so quickly, without any announcement of her presence, but she had caught a glimpse of his face, noting his handsome features. “The Lion’s Teeth? Your reputation precedes you,” she commented with clear surprise. The one of the biggest mercenary army in Essos with an impeccable record of tactical cunning. “Rise, Commander, and tell me what you want in return. Surely, you did not turn down a contract with Volantis and travel all the way to Meereen out of belief in my cause or the goodness of your hearts,” Daenerys commanded, the tiny, silver bells braided into her long silver hair chiming softly with the tilt of her head.

Jaime had prided himself in how he'd run his company since he'd left the Seven Kingdoms. He'd started with just a handful of gold and his golden armor. Now, he lead one of the largest sellsword companies in all of Essos, a peer of the famous Golden Company. The Lion had come into his own, not overshadowed by his father or his family name. He had Tywin's lessons as well as his own cunning and honor. His men fought with honor and pride, and they followed him loyally, even when he turned down the higher paying offers. As he had with Volantis. 'We will not fight on behalf of slavers.' the men had agreed with him after he'd told the Triarchs to, for all intents and purposes, fuck off. It had been after that that The Lion's Teeth had turned their eyes on Meereen and it's young Queen. Not listening closely to the rumors, not having heard her name, he was now completely unprepared.

Seeing the Queen's Targaryen features, he was thrown right back to when he had first seen Queen Rhaella. He and Cersei had just turned ten, and it was one of the rare times that Aerys had let his wife leave the Red Keep. Rhaegar had been her only surviving child at the time and it wouldn't be until several months later that Viserys would have been born. Rhaella had always had a look on her face that the girl was mirroring, strength mixed with the shadow that loss cast. Daenerys, he remembered, having heard little of her until recently. He should have paid more attention, and part of him felt nothing but shame, now. Killing Aerys had not freed him of his oath, he was still a White Brother, he felt shame for not have come to her side before. 'We are supposed to protect her as well,' his own words echoed in his mind, spoken so long ago about her mother. The boy he had been that day would never have left Rhaella's children to fend for themselves.

He rose as she'd bidden, determination now in all of his body language. Rhaegar, Elia and her children, Rhaella... he still saw them in his dreams, he'd failed them. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could make this right. Perhaps, he would find some redemption for his sullied soul in the last Targaryen. "My men and I turned down Volantis for a simple reason, your Grace, none of my men will serve under those who hold slaves." He looked at her, raising emerald Lannister eyes to meet purple Targaryen for the first time in over two decades. "My men will want gold and an honorable cause, I came for the same reason. Now, for myself I just ask for a chance at redemption." He takes a deep breath, praying to the Seven that she was more Rhaella as he hoped. Even still, he took his time before he continued. "My name is Ser Jaime, your Grace."

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Jon looked up at the sound of someone coming to visit the former fighters from Daznak’s Pit. He and Ghost had been fighting for the Masters for the last year, ever since he’d been sent away from Winterfell and ended up in the belly of a Slaver ship. For a good while he’d wished that he’d taken the offer to become a member of the Night’s Watch, that he hadn’t sought a way to seek glory for his name on his own. Had he not done so, he would not have found his way to Essos, only to be snatched when the ship he was on was raided. He didn’t know what the initial plan for him and his direwolf had been, but it was put to rest when he’d gotten into a fight with another captive.

Jon was good a fighting, having been trained by a master-at-arms, a man who had seen two wars and did not see it useful to teach someone who was like to not be in a tourney how to fight fair. As such... Jon did not always fight fair, and fighting with a wolf that matched his movements was not what one would see as fair. The coordination of fighting with Ghost at his side, the dirty tactics, and the ferocious nature of the fight had drawn the attention of the overseers. Once they had hit Meereen, he’d been taken straight to the Fighting Pits. He didn’t know how many fights he had been in, the days had all started to blur together, but he knew that the crowd had cheered any time that he and Ghost had walked into the sands of the pit.

Then the Dragon Queen had arrived in Meereen, and the pits were shut down. The slave’s collars had all been removed, and one hundred and sixty-three masters had been crucified in Daznak’s Pit. Jon had learned that morality was grey, not black and white, while in the pits, and he found himself wondering why the Dragon Queen had chosen such a specific number. Daenerys Targaryen had been the only thing the former slaves had been talking about of late. A number thought that Jon was mad, when he expressed a desire to see the dragons that the girl was said to have. Dragons... they had always fascinated him, and once upon a time he had hoped to one day be like The Young Dragon, Daeron the First, to make his name known for his skill in battle. In a way, he had managed that in the pits, he supposed.

Grey eyes widened as he was taken from his thoughts as a young girl, no older than his sister Arya should be now, began to recite titles. Daenerys Stormborn. The words rang in his ears and he looked up at her in awe, and the realization that she was younger than himself hit like a punch to the gut. I once aspired to be like the Young Dragon, he thought to himself, but this girl is managing it. Remembering his courtesies, he took to his knee and lowered his head in respect, even before the titles were finished.