The New Yunkai
The city of Yunkai woke to freedom. The walls still smoked from fire. The streets were filled with cries, not of fear, but of joy. The slaves had collars still hanging from their necks, chains still dangling from their wrists. But those chains were broken. They threw them away like rotten food. They shouted her name. Daenerys. Mysha. Mother.
She stood at the center of it. Small against the crowd, but shining. Her white hair caught the light. Her eyes were calm. The people surged forward. They wanted to touch her. They wanted proof that she was real. Not a dream. Not a story whispered in the dark. Hands reached out. Dozens. Hundreds. They brushed her cloak. Her arm. The reins of her horse. Some dropped to their knees, only to rise again, pulled forward by others desperate for a touch. Children climbed over the shoulders of older men. Old men reached with trembling fingers. The air was heavy with dust and smoke, but their faces shone with tears.
She did not step back. She let them touch her. She let them feel her skin, her hair, her presence. She was steady, even when their weight pressed against her. She did not speak. She only looked at them with quiet strength. And the more they touched her, the more their voices rose. "Mysha. Mysha." The word rolled like thunder. It filled every alley, every rooftop, every broken hall of Yunkai.
In the background the Dothraki stood in rows. Straight backs. Their Arakhs were pointed to the sky, as a sign of their victory. Their horses stamped and snorted, but they did not move. They only watched. They had seen Daenerys lead them before, but this was different. This was not fire and blood. This was something else. A power they did not have. Drogo sat at their head, tall on his black stallion. His eyes never left her. He saw the hands reaching for her. He heard the voices calling her mother. He felt the pull of something greater than war. For the first time, he did not see her only as his wife or the mother of his son. He saw her as something untouchable. Something born to lead the world.
And still she stood, letting them gather around her. Letting them pour their hope into her like water into dry earth. She was their center. Their light. Their Mysha.
Later, the city quieted. Not much, but enough. Daenerys sat in a chamber taken from one of the masters. The walls were plain. Not exactly… It contained multiple vertical lines made of gold. The four pillars at the four corners of the room also had gold embedded into it. But there was no design. No artistic expression. Despite the gold, the chamber looked bland. The chair Daenerys sat on was also simple. It had gold embroidery, and the cushion was just soft enough to make her ass comfortable. But again there was no design. She was nursing Goku, her son, while two of her Dothraki hand maids were preparing to tie another bell to her long braids. Daenerys was topless at the moment. But she didn't even flinch when Missandei entered the chamber. As a Khalessi she was well acquainted with nudity. So it didn't bother her.
Missandei bowed, but Daenerys waved her off.
"Don't bow. Sit," Daenerys said. Her voice was soft. She looked tired, but her eyes were sharp.
Missandei sat. She waited.
"You'll handle the work," Daenerys said with a mischievous smirk. "I will have to leave for Mareen tonight. So I will leave all of my work to you… All of it."
"What work, my queen?" Missandei asked despite the bad feeling she had in her gut.
Daenerys smiled faintly. "Everything the city needs. Turn one of their castles into a prison. Put the masters and their families inside. Don't kill them. Isolate the ones who still think they can fight back." She shifted Goku in her arms, patting his back. "Seize their property. All of it. Lock it in the biggest castle. That will be the council's house one day."
Missandei nodded quickly, her mind already racing.
"Make sure the freed slaves have food, water, roofs over their heads. Use the masters' gold. Use their stores. I don't care. Just make it happen." Daenerys ordered
"Yes, my queen." Missandei's mind was already calculating the load of work given to her.
"Don't worry about soldiers," Daenerys said. She looked down at Goku, who was drifting to sleep. "That's Drogo's problem. He'll keep order."
Missandei nodded, relieved that at least that part did not fall under her control.
Daenerys gave a quiet laugh. "I've got other things to do now. So I will take my leave."
When Goku finished, she lifted him gently and kissed his forehead. She called one of her Dothraki handmaids and placed the boy in her arms. Then she stood, stretching her shoulders and hips.
"Take care of him," she told the maid before she took the large cloak.
She didn't bother to wear her top. Drogo was already hard with anticipation when she last left her to feed her son. So Daenerys knew that he would be rough. Exactly the way she liked it. But she saw no reason to sacrifice the poor top for it.
When Daenerys reached the open field where Drogo was giving order to his blood riders, she felt his arousal from a distance away. Daenerys was hoping to do it in a proper bed chamber. But with Drogo's condition, she could only hope that he doesn't take her on the dusty field.
Fortunately her wish came true. Drogo actually managed to calm down just enough for them to walk into the seized palace of one of the slave masters. Needless to say that the entire afternoon, Daenerys got her pussy and womb treated thoroughly with Drogo's cock and seeds respectively.
…
Next chapter: Mareen
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