A/N: Double update day! This, and another story!
Holidays are running me ragged, so please forgive the lack of length.
With my fifteen year anniversary on this site finally here, I find myself reflecting on the little things in life. What was once a lazy pastime meant for me and a few friends really grew and evolved over time. There are days when I look back on the last fifteen years here and I wonder if anyone will remember me; if I made an impact, despite never making a single cent on any of these stories. Some days were happier than others, and some stories I enjoyed writing WAY too much; to the point where I'd stay up all night working on them.
And of course, there are times when I look to the future and wonder what will become of things when I'm gone.
Of course, I try not to dwell on the latter overmuch; I'm still alive and still writing. In an ideal world, I'd like to keep doing so for as long as I can. But old age is catching up to me and these days, the world is filled with so much madness and death. All this insanity around the world serves as a terrible example. Even before that, so many friends and fellow writers I once knew are gone, now. Will I still be here in twenty years? Ten? Five? Its a chilling thought. But for now, I'm still here, still writing.
No questions this time. More stories to update. Busy, busy, busy.
Sorry, just an old man ranting. Alright, I think I've kept you waiting long enough.
As ever, I own no quotes, references, themes, or memes. Not a wit or a one! They're tributes to legends far greater than I.
In keeping with traditions, each chapter title stems from "Rains of Castamere" and ohhhh does it fit in this chapter. To a T some might say.
Some shots are taken at Season 7-8 here, but lets face it, everyone's still raking those two over the coals these days...
"Good, you're learning.
But that arrogance is still a problem.
Don't worry, I've juuust the tool to fix that...
~A discussion.
And Mine Are Long
Her hindquarters ached.
But there was no time to rest.
Daenerys landed on her rear with a yelp.
Naruto tutted softly and walked past her, shaking his head. "You weren't ready. Again."
Tyrion took a long drink from his goblet and settled into watch. Jorah and Daario were of no help here, and Barristan even less so. No one came to help her. No one spoke up in her defense. No one tried to save her. Not a one. Instead they all watched her stumbled about the yard and get pummeled within an inch of her life. Once again, her borrowed blunted blade fall from her fingers as she made a complete and utter arse of herself. She had only just begun her training, she knew, and thus couldn't be trusted to use live steel, she knew.
Alas, the same couldn't be said for her opponent.
Oh dear, here he comes again...
Slow! Sloppy! Sad!
He delivered three quick blows, swayed out of her path when she tried to strike back and drove a fist into her...what had he called it earlier? Solar Plexus? She was no Maseter. Didn't matter. He nailed her in the stomach regardless and she dropped to her knees, clutching her torso, retching for air that simply refused to come. Oh gods, the pain. She'd never felt anything like this before. Was this what it felt like to be in a fight? She never wanted to feel this again.
"Dead." He tapped the back of her head ever so gently with the flat of Dark Sister and walked by. It galled her that he wasn't using both blades.
She surged to her feet and struck at his.
"No need to rush." a smack to the shoulders knocked her back down. "You could learn some humility down there."
From a purely logical standpoint she could see where he was coming from; but her anger was burning bright; or so it was until he dumped a pail of water on her head. Where had he even gotten it from?!
"A true Targaryen does not kneel-ack?!"
"Nonsense." He swept her legs and knocked her flat on her back, leaving her glaring up at the sun. "We kneeled all the time in my day."
...I don't believe you."
"Whether you believe it or not is immaterial." Valyrian steel tickled her throat, causing her to freeze for a moment. "The past is the past. It happened. Now accept it and move on. Or do you think strength will save you? No." A quick slap to the knee knocked her down again. "You are loved here, that much is true, but across the sea your name is synonymous with madness. That attitude of yours doesn't help."
Anger sparked beneath her breast. "I am not my father!"
"You are not." He took his sword frrom her throat and granted her a grave nod as she found her feet again. "If you were, I would've hit you with a Rasengan, lopped off that pretty head of yours, and left your body for the buzzards.
He would, too. She could see it in his eyes.
"Even so, you might become your father someday."
For a wild moment Daenerys pictured it, a shriveled old crone, aged and worn cackling upon the Iron Throne. She shoved it away with a shudder.
"You're already walking the same path he did; thinking himself right, just, above it all." his other sword swept in, forcing her to tumble aside or take a lasting wound. "The difference being you don't know when to stop. Keep it up and I might just let your enemies kill you. You're brash, bold and brave...and you have a temper. Violence is often your first instinct, isn't it?
She growled at him, refusing to rise to the bait.
"Don't make that face," he deflected her sweep, parried now, and sent her sprawling with a lazy kick. "I was much the same at your age. Always rushing headlong into danger," She struck at him, only for him to parry again and deliver a second stinging smack to her flank with the flat of his blade as he passed her by. "I picked fights I had no business winning and I barely scraped by through seat of my pants. If it weren't for luck, and people looking out for me, I would've died a dozen times, no a hundred times.
Here at last, her temper slipped its leash. "Then why help me at all?! What's the point?! What's the difference?!"
"The difference is that I learned my lesson and could actually fight back after a fashion. You have yet to do either." He shook his head and sighed. "Who are you?"
"I beg your pardon?"
The man who just might be great great great granduncle-or more!-rolled his eyes. "Take away your dragons, your advisors, your armies, and who are you?"
Was this some sort of trick question? It must be
...Daenerys Targaryen?"
Yes, that is your name, but what is a name?" He stabbed Dark Sister into the ground and laid both hands upon her hilt. "You cannot defend yourself, you can't fight, only command. All you have is that fire in your belly. Amusing as it is, that won't protect you. An assassin could slip into your quarters in the dead of night and you wouldn't be able to do a damn thing. What happens when you go to Westeros as you are now?"
She had a feeling it was a rhetorical question. Nevertheless, she felt compelled to respond. "I intend to rule-
"WRONG ANSWER!" Another smack swept in, but she was able to dodge it by the skin of her teeth. Not so the follow up. Hie locked blades with her, forcing her down. "With reflexes like that, you'd be lucky to even glimpse the Iron Throne, much less touch it before someone plants a knife in your heart.
...that's oddly specific.
"Its fate." He parried her and delivered a stinging headbutt to leave her reeling. "Your fate." A fist caught the collar of her dress and reeled her into a bruising punch. "And you're barreling headlong toward it, certain that everyone will bow, that everything will work out for you, because you're a Targaryen. Naive!
She snarled and struck his leg.
"Better." He chided her. "Again.
She tried again. He flipped her over his shoulder and into the dirt. How shameful. She couldn't even ask anyone to fight in her stead. The Man of Many faces had already trounced Ser Barristan and Jorah was too indebted to him to even consider fighting him. Greyworm was no match for him and he'd already best Daario this morning. No, she was alone in this...and did it have to hurt so much?!
Seething, she glared up at her ancestor, eyes full of fire and blood.
"Careful, now." he chided her. "Don't make me spank you again."
Daenerys clammed right up.
(.0.0.0.)
"How are we doing?"
Tyrion looked up as Naruto slid down into the seat beside him.
He snatched up a flagon of ale and knocked it back with a hearty guffaw. "Too damn old for this is how I'm doing."
The dwarf looked back to where Daenerys lay, sprawled in the yard, wasted and gasping for air. Judging by the swears she was spitting she'd be back at it again soon enough. "Well, a dragon does have her fire, just a lion has his claws...
"I told you, you're not a lion. I don't like repeating myself."
There it was, that riddle again. Or was it the truth?
Shunting such thoughts aside, he looked back to the Man of Many Faces. "Then why help her?"
"I owe her this." his face settled into a steely mask. "As far as I know, she's the last Targaryen in the world, the last of my blood. And a Targaryen alone in the world is a terrible thing."
"I should hope not!"
"She's my descendant." a slim shoulder shrugged. "I'm not interested in her that way."
"Who are you, really?"
"You already know my name." the blond smiled at him. "You've heard it so many times now. Its why every man, woman and child knows my name years after my "death".
His eyes widened. "You're...?!
"Shhh." A finger pressed to his lips. "Quietly."
"Does she know?"
She suspects." Naruto winked his way. "Let the little dragon figure it out on her own. It'll be more amusing." his peace said, he rose from the table. "I'll see you tonight."
"Where will you go?"
His bodyguard chuckled ruefully. "To wrap up some loose ends, spur things along and send a letter.
"Should I ask what said letter might contain?"
Probably best you don't know. Plausible deniability and all that
A sudden gust of wind swept across the veranda, forcing Tyrion to close his eyes.
When he looked back, Naruto was long gone.
"How does he do that...
(.0.0.0.)
It was a simple thing to write the letter and find a courier.
From there...well, well, well.
He need only wait.
(.0.0.0.)
Cersei read the letter. Her eyes widened.
And so the shrieking began.
Damnitall!
(.0.0.0.)
The wise master were not so wise.
The next day, Astapor and Yunkai marched on them, spurred by a certainssomeone.
But in their foolishness they walked into the dragon's jaws.
They would all of them burn.
As planned.
(.0.0.0.)
Cersei read the letter. Her eyes widened.
And so the shrieking began.
Damnitall!
(.0.0.0.)
"Come back to bed, my lion...
"I don't think that's wise."
He felt Shae drape herself across his back as she watched the Master's fleet burn in the bay below. Dragons were devastating creatures. The Man of Many Faces even moreso. He had no idea when or how he'd conjured that giant golden beast and frankly, he had no desire to no. It waded into the water and well...the rest as they say, was history.
He almost pitied the Dothraki when they found them.
Westeros would be worse.
A/N: Aaaand there we go.
Next chapter title: And Sharp, My Lord.
Once more, we're sticking with the "Embers" rule for this story, and others. Meaning folks don't like this, it won't be continued. If the story itself ain't popular/well-received...well, I won't be able to continue it. I'm working two jobs, holidays are here too, meaning I barely have time to write; as such, I cannot afford to write something folks don't enjoy.
By all means, speak up! Your voice matters! Make yourself heard! As ever, reviews are the fuel that sustain me. Without them I cannot write a single word. Simple as that. Working nearly all hours of the day keep me absurdly busy, and I can't bring myself to write something folks don't like.
So In the Immortal Words of Atlas... ...Revieeew, Would Ya Kindly?
Next time: And Mine are Long
And a warning!
WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!
SPOILERS LAY AHEAD!
YE BE WARNED~!
(Previews)
An arrow whistled through the air. The Man of Many Faces caught it in his fist.
"They never learn."
"You're going to be a father? Congratulations!"
"Easy for you to say!" he poured himself another glass of wine. "You've been one before. I haven't."
R&R~!
=D