The Unsullied marched in endless lines across the dusty plain, spears rising and falling like a single breath. Daenerys rode at the head on her white horse, blue dress catching the golden light that showered down from the horizon. Her gaze drifted to the dark silhouette of Meereen, towering pyramids rising against the sky, the city that had waited for her.
After a time, the army halted. The Unsullied formed ranks in perfect order before the gates, bronze shields locked, spears upright. More Unsullied poured down from the flanks, completing the crescent that faced the city.
Dany rode closer. The massive gates loomed ahead, flanked by two towering statues of harpy women, wings spread, faces carved in cruel beauty.
From above, the people of Meereen watched, masters in their fine tokars, slaves pressed against the stone ledge. Thousands of Unsullied stood silent below, and at their center the silver queen on her white horse.
Dany dismounted. She gazed up at the towering walls, the gates, the faces peering down.
A creak of chains echoed. One gate groaned open slowly, deliberate.
Dany watched. Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan just behind her. "Are they attacking?" she asked curiously.
Jorah shook his head. "A single rider. A champion of Meereen. They want you to send your own champion against him."
From the walls came distant cheers, masters and their followers roaring for their man.
Dany watched the rider gallop through the open gate, then dismount. He stood alone on the open ground, armored and proud.
Dany walked a little closer, Jorah and Barristan following. Rhaego watched from the side with Missandei, arms crossed, smirking.
The champion shouted in a Valyrian voice carrying far, mocking and prideful.
Dany frowned. "What is he doing?"
Barristan began, "I believe he means to—"
Before he could finish, the champion reached down, pulled out his cock, and pissed on the ground in front of him a deliberate, mocking gesture.
The city erupted in laughter and cheers.
Dany narrowed her eyes and sighed.
The champion kept shouting. Missandei stepped closer to translate, voice steady despite the words.
"He says we are an army of men without man parts… He claims you are no woman at all, but a man who…" She hesitated, then continued, "…hides his cock in his own asshole."
Rhaego's tail flicked sharply behind him once, in frustration.
Barristan spoke calmly. "Ignore him, Your Grace. These are meaningless words."
Jorah scoffed. "They're not meaningless if half the city you intend to take is listening to them."
Dany said nothing. She turned her head to the walls, to the people watching. "I have something to say to the people of Meereen," she said.
She turned back to the champion, pointing. "First, I will need this one to be quiet."
She faced her advisors. "Do I have a champion?"
Grey Worm stepped forward from the front rank, voice ringing clear in Valyrian. "Allow me this honor, Mother of Dragons. I will not disappoint you."
Dany shook her head. "You are the commander of the Unsullied. I cannot risk you."
Grey Worm bowed his head and stepped back.
Barristan leaned in. "Your Grace, I have won more single combats than any man alive."
Dany did not hesitate. "Which is why you must remain by my side."
Jorah stepped closer. "I have been by your side longer than any of them, Khaleesi. Let me stand for you today as well."
Dany stepped toward him, voice soft but firm. "You are my most trusted advisor, my most valued general, and my dearest friend. I will not gamble with your life."
Silence fell. Then Rhaego stepped forward calmly, confident.
"I can take him," he said.
Dany turned to her son. Her eyes widened. "Rhaego, no."
He met her gaze steady, unafraid. "I am your son, Mother. The Stallion of our people. I cannot just wait and watch forever. I want to prove to you I am capable."
Dany's hand rose, hesitant, protective. "You are my only blood," she said quietly. "My son. I lost you once in my belly… I will not lose you again to a man with a spear and a mocking tongue."
Rhaego stepped closer, close enough that they were almost eye to eye. "I will not be bested by a man, Mother. After all… I am not a man. I am a dragon."
He smiled small and sharp, full of that fierce confidence she both loved and feared.
Dany's breath caught. She looked at him, really looked. He was so tall now. The boy who once fit in her arms now stood nearly level with her. Her hand finally moved, cupping his cheek, thumb brushing the faint scales along his jaw.
"You are still so young," she whispered. "I still see the child I carried through the ashes."
Rhaego's smile softened. "I know. But I am also the dragon you raised. Let me show them.. show you, what that means."
Dany's eyes shimmered with pride, terror, and love all at once.
For a long moment she said nothing. Then, reluctantly she nodded.
"Very well," she whispered. "But if he so much as scratches you…"
Rhaego's grin returned bright, fierce. "He won't."
He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers for a heartbeat a quiet promise.
Dany's hand lingered on his cheek a second longer.
Then she turned to the champion and to the city watching from the walls. The city watched from the walls, masters in their tokars, slaves pressed against the stone, thousands of eyes fixed on the silver queen and her small champion.
Missandei stood beside Dany, hands folded, voice low.
"You have quite an audience watching you, my son." Dany's gaze drifted upward to the walls, the towers, the faces peering down.
Missandei continued softly, "It seems your son is very fierce, like you, Your Grace."
Dany smiled small, wistful. "Yes… I sometimes worry about that."
She looked back at Rhaego, standing alone in the open ground, tail swaying lazily behind him, arms stretching, shoulders rolling as though shaking off sleep.
"Win or lose," Dany murmured, "as long as the whole city is watching…"
She let the words hang, eyes fixed on the distant champion mounted now, lance leveled, horse stamping.
Missandei leaned closer, voice almost a whisper. "Do you think he will lose, Your Grace?"
Dany's gaze never left her son. "No," she said quietly. "If he believes in himself, he can win. I have no choice but to have faith in my son's strength."
In the distance the champion on his horse, lance steady, armor gleaming. The masters' cheers rolled down from the walls like distant thunder.
Rhaego waited, calm, tail flicking once. Dany walked forward. She stopped beside him.
"You sure you don't want a horse?" she asked, voice low, worried.
Rhaego kept stretching, gaze locked on the champion.
"Why would I want a horse?"
Dany glanced at the champion's mount, powerful, fast.
"Horses are faster than men."
Rhaego turned to her then a wide, confident smile spreading across his face.
"Well… I'm faster than a horse."
Dany laughed.. soft, surprised and for a moment the tension eased. Silence settled between them.
She reached up, brushing a stray lock of silver hair from his brow, fingers lingering near one of his curved horns.
Then she stepped back. Rhaego watched her go, smile still in place. Dany retreated to her place among the advisors, Jorah and Barristan on either side, Grey Worm a pace behind, Missandei close.
The champion's horse thundered closer.
Rhaego tilted his head once more, tail swaying, eyes narrowing.
And the silver queen waited, hand resting lightly on her side, watching her son standing and unmoving to meet the champion of Meereen.
The champion spurred his horse forward, lance leveled, armor gleaming under the sun. The masters roared from the walls, a wave of cheers rolling down like thunder.
Rhaego didn't move from his spot. His tail swayed lazily, confident, almost bored.
Dany's breath caught. She watched the rider charge closer, faster heart hammering against her ribs.
Rhaego glanced back once. His violet eyes found hers. He smiled small, reassuring then turned to face the oncoming lance.
In his mind, "I've been practicing with my flame breath. Let's see how it works on a man."
His breath was different from the others, pure blue, hotter than red or green. With his modern knowledge, he knew blue burned fiercest.
Rhaego did not move.
Not yet.
His tail swayed once behind him, slow… deliberate.
Rhaego shifted.
Not a panicked scramble but a sharp, sudden step to the side, faster than the eye could easily follow. The lance tore past him, close enough that the wind of it brushed his cheek, grazing a strand of silver hair.
Gasps rippled from the walls.
The champion yanked hard on the reins, trying to turn for another pass. The horse reared, screaming, hooves lashing the air.
Rhaego crouched low, eyes narrowing.
Fast.
The rider came again, circling now, more cautious. The lance dipped and rose, searching for an opening. Dust kicked up around them, swirling in the hot air.
Rhaego's muscles coiled.
He could feel it.
Not just his own strength but something deeper. Heat gathering in his chest, rising with every breath. Strange. Powerful.
Unfamiliar.
He inhaled.
The air burned going in.
Behind him, Dany stepped forward instinctively, fear flashing across her face. "Rhaego—!"
He didn't hear her or perhaps he did and chose not to listen.
The rider charged again. This time faster and angrier. The lance leveled, aimed true.
Rhaego held his ground. For a heartbeat too long.
Dany's heart lurched—
Then Rhaego moved.
He dropped low, pivoting sharply as the horse thundered past. His hand shot out not to strike but to push against the shaft of the lance, just enough to throw off its path.
The tip scraped across his side.
Cloth tore. A shallow line of red marked his skin.
Dany gasped.
Jorah stepped forward half a pace. "Khaleesi—"
But it was already too late. Rhaego straightened slowly. He glanced down at the thin line of blood along his ribs.
For a moment, he simply stared at it. Then he smiled, small and sharp.
"Alright," he murmured.
His eyes lifted to the rider turning for yet another charge.
"Let's see…"
He inhaled again, deeper this time.
The air shimmered around him. Heat gathered, visible now. A faint glow traced along his throat, pulsing beneath his skin.
The champion did not slow. The horse came on.
Rhaego's tail swayed once more.
Behind him, Dany watched nervously, hands clenched. She looked to Jorah, then back to her son. Her body was tense, uneasy.
The rider was close now, lance steady, horse thundering.
Rhaego exhaled. A bright, linear jet of blue flame shot forward fast, focused, and surgical. It struck the champion dead-center.
The horse screamed, reared, and fell. Dust exploded as rider and mount slid across the ground, tumbling to a stop just feet from Rhaego.
When the dust cleared, the horse scrambled up and bolted, riderless. The champion lay headless. The neck was charred black cauterized clean. No blood spilled.
From the walls came stunned silence then shouts of disbelief. Rhaego looked back at his mother. He smiled proud, triumphant.
Behind him, Dany let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
Her hand trembled, but her eyes… shone.
Rhaego turned.
He met her gaze across the field.
And smiled.
Dany exhaled a shaky, relieved laugh. Her doubts settled, if only for a moment. Her son had proven himself.
Suddenly arrows rained down, archers on the walls loosing at Rhaego's feet. He looked up calm, unconcerned; he spread his arms wide in a gesture of victory, then opened his wings beneath his back.
He threw his head back and spewed a bright explosion of blue flame skyward, a roaring beacon of triumph.
The Dothraki roared in cheers "Rhaego! Rhaego! Rhaego!"
Rhaego folded his wings, turned his back on the city, and walked proudly toward Missandei. He nodded to Dany. She nodded back pride shining in her eyes.
Dany stepped forward, voice carrying clear and strong in High Valyrian.
"I am Daenerys Stormborn. Your masters may have told you lies about me or they may have told you nothing. It does not matter. I have nothing to say to them. I only speak to you."
The slaves leaned forward. The masters frowned, murmuring.
"First," Dany continued, "I went to Astapor. Those who were slaves in Astapor now stand behind me, free."
The masters exchanged uneasy glances. "Next I went to Yunkai. Those who were slaves in Yunkai now stand behind me, free."
Slaves looked at each other, hope flickering. "Now I have come for Meereen."
Dany raised her voice. "I am not your enemy. Your enemy is beside you. Your enemy steals and murders your children. Your enemy has nothing for you but chains and suffering and commands. I do not bring you commands. I bring you a choice and I bring your enemies what they deserve."
She turned. "Forward!"
The Unsullied pushed four wooden catapults into line. The masters gasped. Slaves shrank back.
"Fire!"
The catapults snapped. Barrels arced through the air and crashed against the inner walls, splintering on impact.
The slaves screamed, frightened at first. But the barrels held no fire, no stones.
They burst open and collars spilled out. Hundreds of iron collars the same kind the people of Meereen wore clattered across the ground.
Slaves stared, stunned, bewildered. Masters watched in growing silence.
Dany said nothing more. The city fell quiet and the silver queen waited. Daenerys stood motionless before the gates, silver hair stirring in the wind, and waited for the city to choose its own freedom.