"Then it is decided," she said. Her voice was iron. "Thirty days. Slaver's Bay will be ours."
The torches hissed in the still air. And the war council scattered to their tasks, leaving their queen standing over the map, her dragons' shadows crawling across the walls like omens of fire to come.
…
Pre-war preparation
The Unsullied stood in perfect formation beneath the rising sun, a silent sea of spears and shields stretching across Astapor's main training yard. Their armor gleamed faintly despite the dust in the air, their eyes forward, their stance unshaken. No whispers, no fidgeting—only discipline, carved into every man as if it were their bones.
Daenerys Stormborn Targaryen stepped forward, the hem of her pale dress brushing the dirt. Her silver hair caught the light, Drogon circling far above, while her four other children were lazily crouching in the distance. Drogon's shadow gliding like omens across the ground. At her side walked Jorah Mormont, Missandei, and Drogo, though only she carried the full weight of command.
Her gaze swept over the eight thousand warriors who had chosen freedom, then knelt to her. Half would march, half would remain in the city. The decision weighed heavy, but her voice was firm when she spoke.
"Among you, one must lead. The Unsullied are spears that strike as one. But even a spear needs a hand."
She let the silence stretch. No man moved, no man spoke. The Unsullied would never choose for themselves; their discipline ran too deep. She already knew the name she would call.
"Step forward, Grey Worm."
From the second line, a young commander obeyed, his steps measured, his eyes steady but not proud. His face bore no sign of hesitation as he lowered his spear and knelt before her.
Daenerys' voice softened. "From the day you raised your spear against a good master, you have shown incredible leadership skills along with your fighting prowess. From this day onwards, you are commander in chief of the entire Unsullied army. You will also be the commander of the 4000 Unsullieds that will sail to Meereen with Jorah Mormont and carry my banner. You will show the world that freed men fight stronger than slaves ever could."
Grey Worm's reply was plain, without flourish. "As you command, my queen. I will not fail."
The others did not cheer, but their silence carried its own weight. Obedience was louder than applause.
Daenerys then turned, raising her hand toward the remainder. "Four thousand of you will stay. Astapor is free, but freedom is fragile. The masters here…" her lips tightened at the word, "...still breathe. In my absence, you will guard this city. If the masters whisper of chains again, silence them. If they dream of rebellion, do not show any mercy."
Her eyes flicked across the faces before her. None flinched. None questioned.
Inside, however, doubt flickered in her heart. She had burned Astapor's order, broken its chains, yet in her mind she could still see the greed in the eyes of the Good Masters. Could a city built on whips truly change in one moon's time? She wanted to believe it could. She wanted to believe her freedmen would hold. But she was not naive like the canon Daenerys. If a rebellion sparked while she marched away, if Goku and her dragons returned to a lost city then a lot of unnecessary blood shed would happen. And she wanted to avoid it at all costs.
She crushed the thought with a steady breath. There was no room for fear now.
"Grey Worm," she said at last, "prepare the men. Half will march, half will guard. I will inspect the rest of our preparations."
The commander bowed his head. "It will be done."
With that, Daenerys turned, her cloak sweeping behind her as she left the yard. The Unsullied did not watch her go. They returned to stillness, waiting for the next command.
The city of Astapor watched, but Astapor no longer owned itself.
…
The harbor of Astapor bustled with life, though it was no longer the noise of chained men. Freedmen loaded barrels of grain and sacks of dried meat onto carts, their sweat mingling with the salt air. The slave ships, once built to ferry flesh, were being stripped, cleaned, and repurposed for war.
Jorah Mormont stood on the pier, ticking off crates with a scarred hand. "We'll need at least three moons' worth for the Unsullied and the riders bound for Meereen. More, if the siege runs long."
Beside him, Missandei carried a wax tablet, her quick fingers marking each number. "The Khaleesi has ordered no siege. She means to strike swiftly. Still, food is a strength. You are right to measure for more."
"You speak of her as if you've served her for years. Yet it's been, what, a handful of suns?" Jorah gave her a brief glance, the faintest curve of a smile tugging at his beard.
"She freed me. That is enough. I was property. Now I am a woman with a voice. She gave me that voice." Missandei's eyes softened.
Jorah's hands stilled on the crate. His voice was rougher when he spoke.
"She did the same for me, in a way. I was a man without honor when I found her. Now I follow her because she makes me believe I can be better."
The girl studied him quietly, then nodded once. "Then we both owe her everything."
They moved on together, past the rows of ships moored in the harbor. Missandei paused before one vessel, running her hand along the polished wood. "This one is swift, light on the water. Fewer holds for cargo, but it will outrun the others."
"Too small. We'll need space for supplies as well as soldiers." Jorah eyed it, then shook his head.
They debated ship after ship, her sharp eye for craft balancing his practical sense for war. In time, they settled on ten vessels—five for speed, five for storage. Missandei marked the names on her tablet, and Jorah gave the order for loading.
For a moment they stood together, looking out at the restless sea. The sun dipped lower, casting red light across the waves.
"Do you think she can do it?" Missandei asked quietly.
"I've followed her through fire. I'll follow her to the gates of hell if I must. And if hell itself stood before her, I believe she'd break its chains too." Jorah did not hesitate.Missandei's lips curved in the faintest smile.
"Then we will make sure her road is ready." And together, they turned back to their work.
Next chapter: The battle of Yunkai