Hey, I Ruin Stories! Chapter 32

Chapter 32: A Sorcerer


[Late Evening — Khaleesi’s Bathhouse]


{Daenerys Targaryen} 


Targaryens are made of fire and fury.


Our blood is hotter than lava, thicker and much more viscous than the blood of those traitors.


None could defeat us. None had the blood of the dragon inside of them.


We, the Targaryens are the blood of the dragon —the true heirs of the seven kingdoms and the descent of the greatest man to ever live.


Yet…


Yet the blood of the dragon is now threatened. We had gone extinct in the male line, and I was the only living Targaryen —the last of the dragon lords. 


The same dragon lords that lost our greatest weapons, our dragons and were reduced to adopting mere politics to keep our power.


But no more.


“Water does not ham you, does it?”


Rhaegal —the dragon child that I had named after my deceased brother, the seven kingdom’s most loved prince, Rhaegar— seemingly had no issues with water.


He slid into the tub I was taking my bath in, floating in the water like a little child learning to swim.


It had been so long since the Targaryens had dragons that the libraries that had books on dragon lifestyle were long since raided and destroyed.


Tragic, but it was what it meant to have the blood blessed by the gods.


The adorable Rhaegal swam in the tub, going from my breasts, floating and swimming to my feet and back.


Viserion —the one with scales that was of a color comprehensive to cream and the one whom I named after my second brother, the now dead Viserys— had been playing on the water with its tail.


My brother, Viserys, was one that pushed me towards the edge. I lost a lot because of him —my dreams and aspirations.


But he was still my brother, he was the blood of the dragon and I cannot loathe a man with the blood of the dragon… no matter how vile they be.


My fingers softly moved over the head of Viserion.


No matter what, no matter what Viserys did to me. 


Viserion was a mere child, a little hatchling that had not even learnt to fly. He just wasn't something I could hate.


And finally, the lovely yet the most fearsome dragon even as just a mere hatchling —Drogon, the one I named after my deceased husband, Khal Drogo.


Drogon was not as fun loving as the other two. Instead he was busy cleaning his wings with the foam from the bath.


The three dragons, Drogon the black and red one, Rhaegal the greenish-brown one and Viserion the ivory one.


All three were the new hope of house Targaryen. The hatchlings that will soon turn to beasts and will revive the name of house Targaryen.


The sting and pain from burning alive was long gone and the coolness of the bath with the cheery feeling from the hatchlings that made my heart comfortable felt much needed after everything that had happened within the past few days.


Tragedies, that's what has happened. And those tragedies are not something I want to remember again.


Yet to take revenge for the ones that fell for me, I could never truly forget anything.


“My lady.”


“You may enter.”


It had been a long time since I put my naked body inside this tub. Even the water had started to warm up a little.


“What's the matter?”


“Ser Jorah requests that you see him at the earliest.”


She was a maid, the one that survived all the chaos and still decided to follow us. So, I could at least make things easier for her a little 


And Ser Jorah had been here for me from the start and he has never once called me for something that could be considered a waste of time.


“Did he give any reason for why he needs to see me this early?”


By this question, I was out of the bathtub. The water still dripped from my naked body, the foam cleared up and the dirt and ash that had been stuck to me for long had also vanished.


I felt like I was back to the days when I was just a girl, taking baths at the royal bath.


Alas, it’s only an expression.


Long has those days gone by, the innocence never to return. Yet, I shall have the days of honor and joy back.


And that is a promise I am making to myself.


“He has not, my lady.” She was soft-spoken but hard willed. “Yet he says that it is urgent.”


The one thing I do not wish for is an attack on us, which has been something very common lately.


“Then we shall not dilly-dally.” 


I had my caramel gown on me by then. The rush had me not fully dry my body, and it did feel a little uncomfortable to have the gown stick to my semi-wet body.


However, I had been burnt and thrown in mud. If anything, this feels comfortable.


Illyrio’s leftover men told about attacks and hunts from the soldiers of the usurper. 


Hilarious that the vile man that cheated my brother and killed him with underhand methods was unable to rule the seven kingdoms.


Old maester’s words had truth in them.


Just because you obtain a position of power, does not mean you can keep it.


And if he sits on the Iron Throne with this weak conviction, he will fall even before I reach his false kingdom.


But Illyrio was a man that could not be trusted blindly.


His words were half truths and half lies which I failed to see in the past —despite Ser Jorah’s repeated warnings.


Illyrio did cost us a lot, losses and issues.


However, his wealth and influence was also necessary for our cause.


It was most certainly going to be difficult, like trying to catch an agile fox with bare hands, but it had to be done if I wanted to have his men and wealth under my control.


And I will have it soon.


One step at a time, till the day I climb onto the Iron Throne —the throne that is rightfully mine.


…

…


[Late Evening — Somewhere in Red Waste]


{Jorah Mormont}


He is no man.


He is something beyond, something sinister.


“He has not spoken a word since killing the two Dothraki.”


His words were incomprehensible. He neither spoke the Common Tongue, nor the Dothraki language. And none of his words sound even remotely similar to High Valerian.


“And has he harmed anyone since then?”


He was ridiculously fearsome and an accursed sorcerer. His single touch burnt a Dothraki man alive and he exploded the head of the other.


He was certainly not from here, but he wasn't an unintelligent or uncivilized being either.


Given he sat naked, but he was neat with well groomed hair and well kept skin. No savage of the wild would have a body and appearance such as his.


“Not a soul… He is just sitting there without a word.”


He could not have been robbed of his clothes. He is an accursed sorcerer, no sane man, even robbers would try anything with a sorcerer. And no normal man can succeed against one as powerful as him.


“Should we… try to capture him?” His suggestion was not only stupid, but also suicidal. “Surely he cannot face the dozen Dothraki and the other warriors, even if he is a sorcerer.”


“You had not faced a sorcerer before.” If he did, he would not make such a ridiculous suggestion. “They are beings either blessed or cursed by the gods of old and new. And going against people such as sorcerers is not something I am willing to do.”


“Sorcerer?”


Yet no matter what I wanted, the final say was hers.


“A sorcerer from unknown lands, Khaleesi.” Yet unlike every other person I have served under, she has been the kindest. 


“He killed two of the Dothraki.”


“In a fright or fight response.” Her eyebrows furrowed the moment the serf spoke those words, and knowing her she would have rushed to avenge them. So, I had to intervene immediately. “He is a sorcerer and sorcerers are known to be very protective of their body and secrets. Thus the Dothraki grabbing him by his arm had him use his powers.”


I didn't know why he did that. But better to tell a lie than to have the Khaleesi take an emotional decision.


She had matured a lot, yet she still needed control —much more than what she currently possessed.


“He still killed two Dothraki men, two of my men.” 


“I would still suggest that you speak with him without making him uneasy.”


“Why might I ask?” Her voice grew and with that, the three dragons that she carried also woke up. 


“He does not speak our tongue, and none of the ones that we have heard of either.” He was waiting there, he was intelligent and knew that fighting would only worsen the situation. “He might get agitated and it could harm more men. And I believe you might just gain something from understanding him than from hurting him.”


“A sorcerer…” She most certainly took my words to consideration. 


“And we have rumors that the younger brother of Robert Baratheon, Stannis Baratheon also has a sorceress by his side and she had been responsible for some of his recent victories.”


Stannis had the Red Priestess with him and the whispers spoke of how she had been changing the tides for him —gathering people under him. We could not think of them given our situation, but it could be an issue later.


“Take me to him.” She had made her decision. “I want to see the man.”


Maybe the man’s presence was a threat to us, or maybe an opportunity.


Maybe he was a spy, of maybe a truly lost man.


We had to figure out one way or the other.


“Where is he?”


“He…” This was interesting. “Is sitting.”


“Sitting where?”


“On the ground of the camps.” The Dothraki surrounded him, but he still has been there.


“Quite the interesting man, I suppose.” Her curiosity was peaked, and so was mine to figure out what he wanted or how he ended here.


“Interesting to say the least.” Only if the language barrier did not exist, it would have been much easier to figure out the mystery.


“Prepare the food for the little ones. Their teeth are still not hard enough to bite onto tough flesh.” Her voice was stern as she instructed the maids. Every day, she would have good meals prepared for the dragons.


And why wouldn't she?


After all, she is the mother of dragons.


“Let’s see this man, Ser Jorah.” The dragons sat staring over from her shoulders and head. “And I will decide what to do with him. Let him leave, or avenge the two fallen Dothraki.”


The men, the guards, stood their ground. The few non Dothraki men that we had around did most of the guardian work while the Dothraki did all the hunting, gathering and took on the fights. 


Trade was consistent, but to feed a Dothraki army —hunting was necessary. And these warrior breeds were not meant to raise livestock, so hunting was the only option.


We had a strong group, but nearly not enough for her to fulfill her dream. She still had to learn of it from experience, but the Dothraki would need more men to be able to take on the armies that her enemies possessed.


“Ser Jorah.” 


As we walked, Khaleesi decided to pose an interesting question.


“How are sorcerers able to use magic?”


This was a question that I too had in the past, and not till did I spilled the blood of at least a hundred did I learn of the truths.


“Some are gifted by the gods and are able to use magic for great causes.” There were many great examples, “While there are some that are cursed and have to live with harmful magic.” And there were equally vile examples too.


“So, one has to be blessed or cursed by the gods?”


“Not all.” I learnt of it the hard way. “Some obtain it through nature, by learning the truths of the world and…”


“And?”


“And rest do it through using accursed methods, ones that are vile, inhumane and devilish.”


This peaked her curiosity, “such as?”


“Such as magic that is obtained through sacrifices. Be it innocent humans or blood and flesh of the sorcerer themselves.”


I had faced such a being, and never again do I want to see his face.


“Which one does this sorcerer fall under?”


This was an answer I wanted answered too. And maybe, we will find out soon.


“That, we will have to learn directly from himself.”


And there he stood, right in the middle of the Dothraki. 


Dare I say, he was a bit scary. He sat in the middle of warriors whose blood he spilled, and yet he sat smiling looking at the Khaleesi.


As if… as if expecting her to arrive.


“So, that's him?”


The moment she spoke, he immediately got off the ground —alerting the Dothraki to point their weapons at him— and he gave a slight bow, as if giving a respectful greeting.


He didn't show any of that before.


“He does not look like a savage,” but then her eyes seemingly moved down his body. “Or maybe I am wrong.”


“His language is yet one we have to figure out.”


He wasn't a savage, he was well intelligent. And it was clear the way he greeted her. Not once had he bowed before, but in the presence of the Khaleesi, he gave a respectful greeting. 


It was as if he was waiting for her to arrive —for the one in power to show their face.


She walked forward with the Dothraki making way for her, yet keeping their weapons pointed at the man —making sure that he did not pull any tricks.


“Who are you?” She asked, curiously. “There should be no man in this barren place. Yet you got here, naked and unafraid.”


It was mostly her curiosity. She knew he could not speak our tongue, and thus neither she expected an answer.


As for the man, he kept smiling.


“Who are you?”


Again, no answer.


However, however there was something that he did.


A little motion.


Fingers moving around, agitating the Dothraki but not harming anyone. Instead he pointed at the men, and then at him, then finally at me.


“What are you trying to say?”


I too had the same question.


But then it made sense.


He pulled on his skin, and then pointed at me.


“Clothes?”


Yes, clothes. He wanted clothes.


“You want clothes?” She asked, curiously pulling on her gown and pointing at the fabric.


And the man, while he didn't understand the language —did understand our gestures and thus nodded at being asked about clothes.


“Go and bring some clothes for him!” She ordered, immediately causing a few men to run to fetch some fabric for him. 


“But the question still remains.”


Yes the question does remain.


“What is your name?”


Again, no response. Just the man’s smiling face.


“Oh.”


But the Khaleesi seemingly had a way to get an answer.


“Since you understand gestures…” She pointed a finger at herself, “Daenerys. Daenerys Targaryen.”


She was making introductions through gestures. And that led me to point at myself too, drawing his interest.


“Jorah Mormont.” I said, pointing at myself.


And the Khaleesi once again pointed at herself.


“Daenerys.” She said again, and this time —the man responded.


“D-Daenerys?” He tried to pronounce her name, repeating what she said. But there was a clear and sharp accent audible in his voice.


“Daenerys.” The khaleesi nodded at him taking her name.


And this was something that he understood.


“Daenerys.” He nodded before pointing at himself, and finally giving a response that we understood.”


His finger pointed at his naked chest, as the answer finally presented itself.


“Darius.”


He finally gave his name. 


“Darius Safar.”


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[A/N: Boom! We have our second world, A Song of Ice and Fire (Game Of Thrones) verse!


As for the timeline, it is right at the start of season 2]