Work Text:
“I’ve stopped that girl from beating you three times now, which means I’ve probably missed many more of your ‘lessons’, at this point I think it’s time you leave here and get your sight back. Yes, you clearly weren’t born blind if you’re still giving me that look – you think I wouldn’t be curious enough to follow that girl to the House of Black and White? You’re a failed initiate, but you can fight, and I know someone who may reverse the methods of the Faceless Men.”
“How?” Arya was now familiar with the female voice talking to her, but as they’ve only met after she lost her eyesight she didn’t know much except that one of the times she came she had been accompanied by one of the Iron Bank representatives, who had been discussing her decision to leave Braavos.
“You know what the Faceless Men are capable of, let’s just leave it as ‘magic’. Accompany me on this trip, and if we meet him well, he should be able to return your sight.”
-
Beneath the grand city of Meereen, the master screamed as the chained dragons burned him alive, while the rest of them cowered on the ground. Only Hizdahr zo Loraq stood, shaking, and Daenerys rested a hand on his back, as if about to push him forward to the dragons. As she watched, he closed his eyes, mouthing “Valar Morghulis.”
From the flickering flames and shadows, a hand reached out in response, resting over Hizdahr’s own. The person stepping into the light did not dress as well as the other grand masters, but though she did not outwardly react Daenerys did a double-take at the pale skin and flaming red hair. Hizdahr’s eyes opened to look at the stranger, who smiled as he dropped his hand.
“I am more,” he whispered to Hizdahr, before moving between him and the dragon. Hizdahr looked even more alarmed.
“Ross, what are you…”
“Ron,” the stranger corrected, staring only at the dragon, “My real name is Ron.”
Viserion leaned forward, his snout close to the redhead. Ron’s hands shook, but he stared back at the dragon with steady blue eyes. Quietly, Daenerys heard him speak, “I swear, if Harry thinks this is some character-developing exercise, I’m hexing him.”
Half amused and half intrigued, Daenerys looked between the two men who dared stand in front of her dragons, and at the rest of them cowering on the floor. She withdrew her hand, and could hear Hizdahr gasp in relief as she decided not to overfeed her children. At least not tonight, she mildly added as the Unsullied moved to take the masters to the dungeons.
But she was curious, and moments later she went to the dungeons. Torches flickered and moved more than the Unsullied guards, who stood unnaturally still in shadow and light. One of them directed her to the last cell some ways away from even the other masters. “He makes them nervous.”
Daario nodded, “The Second Sons say he practices the faith in the Lord of Light R’hllor, if he isn’t a red priest himself.”
Ron didn’t look like a red priest, the redhead was already standing when Daenerys approached, and bowed without prompting, “Your Grace.”
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Daenerys couldn’t help noticing that Ron didn’t look at all uncomfortable in the dungeons.
“You mean, you’ll remember someone who doesn’t quite look Meereenese being a master. As it is, I currently have no slaves, and I was not present when Your Grace first arrived to this city. I was already returning here when news of your conquests reached me, and by the time I arrived you had already taken the city.”
“And yet, you persisted in coming?”
“A dear friend of mine is a master, I like to think a kind one, I decided against staying away.”
“Your dear friend, Hizdahr zo Loraq? And yet, he knew you by a false name.”
“The whole of Meereen knew me as Ross,” Ron admitted. He stared at Daenerys before shrugging, “Eh, why not, you already heard me and I guess the Mother of Dragons is as good as listener I could hope for the truth. The stories I heard of you say you were at Qarth, surely you saw some things there that cannot be easily explained? I am much older than I look, Your Grace, so once in a while identities need to be changed, and with them my name. Unfortunately I grew…complacent, and stayed long enough for others to notice.”
“Ron is your real name?”
“Short for Ronald, the name my mother gave me, may she and the rest of my family rest in peace. I don’t think you’re interested in that part of my history so – No, I haven’t had slaves for some time. Yes, I did have a few, in Slavers Bay you are either Master or Slave and I refused to become the latter. Yes, I lied to get arrested with the Grand Masters, I heard what was happening and figured it was the best way to find Hizdahr. Yes, I am the last of my bloodline so no great families for you to consider. No, I had nothing to do with the Sons of the Harpy. In case you haven’t heard people here tend to view me with some suspicion, no one would trust me with rebellion.”
The casual way he spoke, but still deferential to her, almost made Daenerys smile. She did want to believe him, that he was not her enemy, but if he was speaking the truth then she ought to be concerned with what magic he might be wielding. He knew of Qarth, would he attempt what they did? Her dragons were bigger, but one was out of control and the other two were already imprisoned. Speaking of her dragons, when he had faced them earlier…
“Harry,” the name rolled off her tongue and Ron straightened, “You thought he was responsible, who is he?”
“Someone I have not seen for a long time,” he hesitated. “Someone who, if you told me he had been responsible for bringing the Dragon Queen herself here, I would believe you. I don’t think he is in Meereen, but if someone decides to redesign the whole place or burn it to the ground, I will believe him equally capable of both…just as you are.”
He had dropped the light-hearted manners once he heard Harry’s name, and if he wasn’t lying, his tone was definitely respectful of both this Harry and Daenerys herself. Daenerys would prefer they not be enemies, she had enough of those around her now. “You stood in front of Hizdahr when my dragons were about to kill you, would you do the same if Harry decides to end Meereen and all its masters?”
“I know what I said earlier, but Harry will definitely choose razing the city as a last resort, there will be no one to rule if we burn everyone and coming from the faith of the Red Temple that’s saying a lot.” In all honesty, Ron had the sense of preservation not to give Daenerys an extremist idea of how Meereen should be treated or how terribly dangerous Harry Potter on a warpath was. “I will do much for Hizdahr, he is a good friend, and I pray my leaders will not destroy kind men like him.”
“A kind man will not ask for the fighting pits to be re-opened,” Daenerys carefully watched her prisoner’s expression, and as if sensing her intentions he bowed his head.
“I do not say he’s perfect, but there is one thing I have never forgotten: If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good luck at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.”
“Men are simply possessions in the slave trade, treating possessions well don’t justify the crueler acts or their deaths in the pits.”
“No,” Ron agreed, “Let me be clear, that although I spent years here I, too, grew up in a society without the slave trade. I also grew up poor, and while I did not starve in my later years I have had that unfortunate experience. Hizdahr may not make the best choices, but he will do his best, and I have seen him criticize other masters for their treatment of slaves. They listen to him too, as you might have noticed he does have some sway with the other masters.”
“Enough sway, to give orders to the Sons of the Harpy?”
“I don’t believe he is involved.”
“You are a loyal friend,” and although he may be biased, Daenerys knew it was good to have some insight other than her own and her advisors. While she knew her instincts were not perfect, unless Ron had some other reason surely Hizdahr must have done something right to inspire such loyalty.
Few would describe Ron as eloquent, he himself knew it, so he simply remained polite and respectful, hoping his sincerity would show. She remained aloof, he wasn’t sure if he could hope that she would spare their lives yet, and when she finally left he let out a breath.
The Unsullied standing guard near his cell looked at him, “Are we still breaking out?”
“You were watching that conversation, what do you think?” Ron rolled his shoulders before looking up at the ceiling, “You can come down now.”
The girl who had been hiding in the shadows, out of sight from the Dragon Queen, dropped down with milky-eyes blinking. Just because she wasn’t able to see doesn’t mean she would not react to the dust and dryness. Feeling her way forward, she grasped the bars of the cage and managed to look at the direction of Ron’s voice, “I think, if you’ve lied to get yourself captured, you won’t leave unless with the person you were looking for.”
“Lucy, was it?”
“I call her that,” the Unsullied guard answered, “Because she says she has no name, even though she decided to leave the Faceless Men.”
Ron looked at blind eyes, and knew if this Lucy left, it was probably after the Faceless Men had punished her first. “Close your eyes, I’m going to put my hand on them, so please don’t fight.”
Arya, who had decided to keep her true name secret and accept the name given to her, did as instructed. After all, she had just heard this Ron admit that he had been going by Ross for some time now, and although her companion had introduced herself as Hermione, Arya was sure she heard other people in Braavos address her with another name. The Faceless Men taught her to take on and cast away names easily, and it seemed as if she had met other people who had done the same. Arya felt a hand rest over her eyelids, and told herself to relax. After a moment, the hand withdrew, “Open.”
A dungeon was not the first sight she wanted to see, but the stone and shadows would not have been out of place back at the House of Black and White. Arya almost felt as if she could have been back there, if not for the prison bars. She eyed the stranger in front of him with his red hair…much like her mother’s.
“Are you from Westeros?”
“What, no dramatic reaction to getting your sight back?” Ron complained.
“You have to admit it’s not flashy,” the Unsullied pointed out. Arya turned to look at guard, with the shield and spear and armoured helmet...
“I’ve heard it, the way your voice changes, but if even your appearance can be changed so convincingly…”
“I’m not a Faceless Man, and if I turn back now I won’t be able to reclaim this form, unless I manage to touch one of the Unsullied again.”
“And your time is running out, the Dragon Queen was here too long, you two have to get out before you return back to normal.” Ron shook his head when the Unsullied seemed about to speak, “I mean it, go now, before it’s the Unsullied who realize the form you’ve taken is someone they know is elsewhere. Assuming my house hasn’t been taken, you can use it as a safehouse. Until someone is going to try killing me, I’ll be fine, you can always come back another time.”
“We’ve never done well behind stone walls,” the Unsullied muttered, “Lucy, we should probably get out.”
Arya didn’t argue, and they cautiously made their way past the other guards to the outside just in time, for in front of her eyes the guard’s helmet changed to long brown hair and the clothes morphed into something more comfortable. A few more steps later, the Unsullied guard was replaced by a woman, and Arya could finally put a face to the person who had brought her from Braavos to Meereen.
“I don’t see anyone around,” Hermione looked around the street, “But that means nothing, we should probably get out of the streets.”
“Your friend said to go to his home, how will we know which one is his?”
“We had an agreement, to leave a clue at any of our current residences. A sculpture in the entryway, or a lantern, in Braavos I had a sign attached to a tree that misnamed it the Whomping Willow.” Hermione was already walking ahead, and Arya followed her quick pace. “We’ll still need to see if the house hasn’t been taken, if no one is there we could rest for a bit but if it is perhaps I’ll have to use another form and maybe attempt another breakout. On that note,” Hermione glanced at Arya, “You don’t have to come with me.”
“What?”
“You have your sight back, and while I have enjoyed your company, it’s going to be dangerous here.” Hermione gestured around the seemingly empty streets, “It’s quiet now, but this city has just been conquered by a foreign queen who still have to deal with the Sons of Harpy, and there are Unsullied and sellswords – the Second Sons? – out in force. The queen lost one of her allies and is furious enough to just round up all the masters. Despite what Ron thinks he has underestimated people before, and a vengeful queen with dragons cannot be. I can break him out, but if he’s staying for one of the other masters I might end up having to break out all the masters....” Hermione turned a corner and froze, Arya did the same.
There was a man there – bearded, tall, good-looking…and dressed like a mercenary, a Second Son. He was watching them with keen eyes, and Arya knew he must have heard them.
“I don’t think I’ve seen you two before,” the man drawled.
“It’s a big city,” Hermione answered automatically. She glanced at the other side of the street, Daenery’s forces must have forsaken the solo gig after Barristan Selmy’s death and sure enough, she saw another man watching them.
“Oh please, don’t run,” The bearded man continued, “It will be in terrible form to hunt down women and children.”
“Why would you hunt us, we are simply planning to head back to our homes,” Hermione had to try, and the man gave her a patient look.
“I heard you, you might not have been loud, but the streets have been unnaturally quiet.”
“Then you should have heard me try to dismiss my friend, she has nothing to do with…Lucy, what are you doing?”
Arya was already walking forward to the man, “If he doesn’t want us to run, he wants a fight.”
The man looked even more amused, “A little spitfire, aren’t you, little Lucy? I’m Daario Naharis.”
Arya considered saying she didn’t care, but despite what the Faceless Men said or what Hermione and Ron had confessed to doing, she did like knowing the names of people – especially those she planned to kill. “I’ll be sure to remember it.”
There were several poles and pikes leaning against a nearby wall, Arya picked up one that fit her hand best and was relieved to see it didn’t look too fragile. The waif had given her enough ‘lessons’, and Arya now had her sight. Without warning she swung, and Daario dodged, admittedly surprised at how quickly the girl moved after him.
Hermione considered running, decided it seemed too much like abandonment, and looked at the other man. "The night is dark and full of terrors," she announced, right before launching a fireball at him.