The penitence of the wolf - The first move in the Black board. (Patreon)

Daena Blackfyre, Astapor – Essos

Everything was exactly as she remembered, even if more than ten years had passed. Astapor was the same.

An earthen city, with sublime Ghiscari architecture and enormous pyramids, one of the favorite structures of the three bastard daughters of Valyria, as beautiful as they were tall, as if the wise masters wished to compensate for something.

Perhaps that was the case, Daena thought with amusement, as she watched the harbor of the city grow larger and larger.

“We are almost there, Your Grace. Everything is prepared for the plan,” said Kinvara, dressed in a completely black gown embroidered with red flames, tight of course, like all red priestesses, displaying a generous neckline that the beautiful woman wore with pride.

“Excellent. Do we have any news of Aemon?” she asked calmly, smiling as she watched her three children flying freely over the ocean.

Daena sighed. She adored watching her babies fly freely—Drogon, Viserion, and Missandion—and she despised having to confine them. But this was not the time to reveal them, and in Astapor they could not be seen.

That was essential to her plan.

And unlike her past life as Daenerys, Daena now possessed more than enough gold to secure her army.

All thanks to her late husband, the beautiful Valyrian thought.

“Is everything prepared for the grand finale?” she asked as she walked toward the ship’s main cabin.

The soldiers of the Golden Company struck their chests and inclined their heads toward her with deep respect.

As it should be.

Daena entered the chamber that had been her home for the past weeks. The journey from Pentos to Astapor was long, and she had spent many nights within these wooden walls.

Many days planning. Long meetings with the captains of the Golden Company or with merchants she knew in every port, making arrangements for Pentos.

Many other nights simply lost in ecstasy and passion. Her carnal appetite had been uncontrollable, and she had taken and tamed a great number of maidens for her personal use.

Though without a doubt, Kinvara was the most skillful of her servants. That woman’s tongue was simply magnificent.

Daena shivered just remembering the long and pleasurable nights they had shared.

Alas, duty before pleasure. And now she had something important to do.

Plan the next move.

As she entered the cabin, Daena saw Ser Myles Toyne, Lord Commander of the Golden Company, waiting for her with a frown.

Something that had become common ever since she had shared her plan with him.

“Your Grace,” he said, inclining his head.

Daena nodded elegantly, smiling as her children flew through the rear window of the ship, drawing a small shriek from the pair of handmaidens her princess and pet had assigned to her.

“By the Gods,” said Ser Myles, as astonished as the first thousand times he had seen her children in the past.

Daena merely rolled her eyes and walked toward the small table, where several maps and documents lay scattered. Among them were expansion plans, trade agreements, and even a few marriage contracts.

Daena simply snorted, as if she—a Dragon Lady—were within reach of simple merchants.

“We have news from Westeros, Your Grace,” said Ser Myles.

The queen merely nodded and took her seat on the central throne, while the dragons settled beside her, watching the inner circle with suspicion.

“Speak.”

Ser Myles swallowed and began.

“A new Targaryen princess has been born—Rhaenys Targaryen, the firstborn of Prince Rhaegar, named second in line to the Iron Throne by the Dragon King himself.”

The news caused whispers throughout the table. Some curious. Others laced with veiled disdain.

Daena frowned.

“Aerys Targaryen named his granddaughter second heir?” said one of the company captains mockingly, the insult evident.

For these men, a woman as queen was unthinkable. Impossible.

She would see that notion destroyed.

Without needing to give the order, Drogon flew toward the insolent captain, knocking him down with his not-so-small body.

“AHHHH!” the terrified man screamed as he felt the weight of a dragon the size of a small horse tackle him to the floor and roar directly into his face, black flames threatening to emerge from his jaws.

“I find myself confused, Captain Barret,” Daena said calmly, accepting a goblet of wine from a servant with a soft smile the girl quickly returned. “Your comment sounded… dismissive toward Princess Rhaenys. As though being a woman made her unworthy of inheritance.”

Barret, utterly terrified, stammered incoherently, only to cry out again when Drogon roared once more.

“I trust this unfortunate situation will not repeat itself, Captain. Understood?” the queen said, her voice still perfectly calm.

The man nodded frantically.

“Yes, Your Grace. As you command.”

Satisfied, Daena called Drogon back to her side. He obeyed instantly, to the amazement of everyone present.

“Your control over them is impressive, Your Grace,” said Ser Myles.

Daena did not care.

“What else did you wish to tell me?” she asked, genuinely curious about her traitorous nephew’s adventures upon her throne.

“Our merchants report a massive mobilization of ships toward Dragonstone, as well as the arrival of the royal house on their dragons. Lord Aemon sent word that Aerys Targaryen was aware of Quellon Greyjoy’s death, which is… troubling,” said Ser Myles.

“My brother prides himself on his information network. That Aerys Targaryen knew about the state of the Iron Islands without him intercepting that intelligence is something that should concern us,” Daena replied with a frown.

“They say Aerys Targaryen has a thousand and one eyes in Westeros. That he knows everything and sees everything. How true that claim is, I do not know,” said Captain Barret cautiously, still glancing toward Drogon.

Daena gently stroked her chin. Jon was strengthening the Seven Kingdoms, and though she detested admitting it, he was doing an excellent job as monarch.

Even in Pentos, stories of great reforms, grand projects, and Westerosi prosperity were abundant, and Daena had no reason to doubt them.

House Targaryen stood at the peak of power. A personal army growing by the day. A fleet completely renewed and modernized.

And worst of all—

Three dragons under his command. Much older and larger than hers.

That was something Daena hated.

That her nephew had dared to steal her children. That they now answered to Jon and not to her.

Just thinking about it filled her with overwhelming rage.

“Prince Viserys grows quickly under the Dragon Queen’s watch. Our contact in the Three Sisters was… neutralized. Rhaella Targaryen mounted her dragon, Aeranax the Black, and sank the Sunderland fleet. She captured and castrated our contact before sending him to the Wall. The islands are now Targaryen territory, and tensions with the Vale have risen considerably,” said the Lord Commander.

Daena could not help but smile, if only for a moment, delighted that her beloved Drogon had bonded with her beloved mother—and even more so that Rhaella had brought fire and blood to the enemies of her family.

Though…

They were no longer her family, were they?

Kinvara stepped forward and spoke.

“Even so, Westeros is unified and strengthening. The Lannisters, Martells, Starks, and Tyrells have strong ties to the Crown. And though the Tullys, Arryns, and Baratheons remain distant, they do not possess sufficient strength to pose a considerable threat—no matter what Jon Arryn’s ego might tell him.”

“Your orders, Your Grace?” Ser Myles asked, looking at Daena, who remained focused intently on the map of Essos.

She was not foolish.

At this moment, not even with the support of the Golden Company and the Unsullied of Astapor would she have the strength to attack Westeros.

She would not repeat the mistakes of her life as Daenerys.

She needed a logistical network.

She needed resources.

She needed gold.

A lot of it.

And though the plan for Astapor was a good beginning, it was far from the end of the road.

She needed a kingdom of her own.

To compete with Jon as an equal.

“We will focus our efforts on Essos. We will fortify Pentos and expand our influence gradually toward Andalos. The Golden Company and the Unsullied will be necessary to repel the Dothraki.”

At least until my children are older, Daena thought, staring toward Vaes Dothrak with conflicted emotions.

If she were honest with herself, she saw it as highly improbable that she would reclaim the Dothraki this time. The circumstances that had allowed her to seize control of the riders had been too specific.

“It is a wise plan, Your Grace. Though it will take time, we will be able to prepare to strike the Targaryens when the moment comes,” said Ser Myles, as the others nodded in agreement, pleased with the prudent decision.

Daena turned toward Kinvara.

“Do you have what I asked for?”

The red priestess nodded.

“I do. Everything is prepared for Astapor, Your Grace.”

Daena nodded, satisfied.

The Black Dragon would rise.

One way or another.

Madari of Naath – Astapor

“As agreed, one hundred and fifty gold coins minted in Pentos, in exchange for every Unsullied you have for sale,” said the foreign dog, as his master called him.

When the Lord Commander of the infamous Golden Company arrived with enormous chests of gold, demanding that all the Unsullied be prepared.

Madari still remembered the meeting three nights ago, when all the masters of the city gathered to discuss the audacity of this filthy foreigner who had come to the city demanding that every Unsullied be sold to him as quickly as possible.

There had been laughter. Insults. Exclamations of superiority.

Yet the decision had been unanimous.

They would accept the sale.

In this city, gold ruled, and the amount the foreigner offered was enormous. So the soldiers were prepared for delivery.

“The reserves must be hardened. There are several nearby villages you may sack on your way toward the disputed lands. Our transaction is complete,” said her Master, forgetting about the foreigner and focusing entirely on the chests overflowing with gold he had earned from the transaction.

However, Madari kept her gaze fixed on the foreigner.

The man looked tense. Anxious.

For some reason, his eyes kept drifting toward the docks, as if he were waiting for something.

And then it began.

“Unsullied!” he shouted, raising the whip as every warrior snapped into formation.

Madari glanced at her Master, who seemed utterly uninterested in anything around him except his cursed gold.

The young slave had a bad feeling, something was wrong.

She was sure of it.

And then...

“Kill the masters. Kill the slavers. Conquer the city in the name of the Black Dragoness! Break the chains of the slaves and sack the city!”

The effect was immediate.

The Unsullied did not question the order.

With ferocity and total discipline, they turned upon the guards and the masters walking among the ranks. The attack was so sudden that many guards fell before they could even react.

Her Master spun around, half terrified, half furious, watching in horror as guards and slave-masters were slaughtered like animals.

The irony was not lost on Madari.

“For the Black dragoness! For the Dragon Queen!”

Shouts erupted from the docks as more soldiers of the Golden Company poured into the plaza, armor stained and spears bloodied, moving with precision and lethal efficiency against anyone holding a whip, freeing all who were chained.

And then she saw her.

Mounted upon an imposing white steed, clad in black robes and wearing a crown of steel the same color.

Platinum hair.

Blue eyes.

Madari did not know her name.

But she had no doubt she was the Black Queen the captain had spoken of.

Her face was impassive.

Her gaze satisfied as she observed the systematic extermination of the slavers.

“Loot everything useful—gold, steel, food, and beasts of burden to the ships. We have counted one hundred vessels in the docks of Astapor. They are now part of our fleet. No survivors. I do not want a single slaver alive, man or woman. And let the city burn to ashes. With Astapor removed from the board, Yunkai and Meereen will quickly enter conflict over dominance of the region, forcing Volantis to intervene.”

Her words were met with immediate obedience.

The golden-armored soldiers massacred anyone who was not a slave.

The masters’ mansions were looted and burned.

Madari watched with conflicted emotions as a pair of Unsullied executed her Master, who had failed to escape.

Screams.

Blood.

Fire.

That was all Madari could see around her.

She was terrified.

And yet...

she did not feel in danger.

The soldiers did not seize women, they did not touch children and even the male slaves remained unharmed.

This attack was against the masters, it was not conquest.

But extermination.

Astapor was meant to be erased from the map.

And it seemed they would succeed.

Some time later, with the slavers dead and the city burning, Madari and the freed slaves were brought to the central plaza, where the beautiful and terrifying woman waited.

She studied them in silence for a long while.

Long enough to make the tension nearly unbearable.

And then she spoke.

“I am Daena Blackfyre, Lady of Pentos and rightful Queen of Westeros. Your chains are broken. From this moment forward, you are free.”

Her voice was calm.

There were no screams. No spectacle.

Only certainty.

And that alone was terrifying.

“You may leave. My soldiers will not stop you. You may walk through the gates with whatever you can carry and try your luck in the world.”

Madari nearly scoffed.

The moment they stepped beyond those gates, they would be captured again.

And the woman before them knew it perfectly well.

So Madari waited for the second offer.

“Or you may remain. Kneel before House Blackfyre and return with me to Pentos—to a secure life. To a worthy future.”

The words were soft.

Precise.

Cold.

As though the woman already knew what the majority would choose.

Madari conceded that she had indeed freed them. And judging by her troops, she was an influential and powerful woman seeking followers.

In simple terms—

They had exchanged one master for another.

Only now, the cage would be golden.

Slowly, Madari knelt.

Along with thousands of former slaves.

Men. Women. Children.

They submitted without resistance.

All of them understanding the situation as quickly as Madari had.

Would it be good? or they had got a worse devil as their owner and master?

Only time would tell.