"Eight thousand dead babies," Dany shook her head, still not believing the number.

Daenerys, Ser Jorah and Lyanna were walking down the harbour back to the ship, still contemplating the decision. Lyanna had sent Eryk back to the ship ahead of them, since the sight of the unsullied was making him ill. He struggled to look at them, in pain, oppressed, without being reminded of how much of his life he'd missed out on by having a collar around his neck. He went back to keep Alize company, Alize who'd already decided she hated slave masters too much to spend all day with one.

"They didn't just kill those children, they killed those boys, those men," Lyanna thought aloud. "They ruined them, broke them into obedience. They have no future, but to be property,"

"Better to be property to the Khaleesi than to masters like Kraznys," Jorah pointed out.

"Better not to be property at all!" Lyanna exclaimed.

Just then, Lyanna and Daenery's eyes were drawn to a small girl, tossing a wooden ball up in the air, grinning at the two girls in a friendly way. She was beckoning the group to her, so they began to follow her. She was wearing rags, but no collar of slavery; she was suffering, but not suffering as bad as she could be. The girl seemed to weave in and out of people until she got to the waters edge, and the group were behind her, which was when she crouched, rolling the ball to Daenerys.

Daenerys picked up the ball, as the girl gestured for her to twist it, opening it. Grinning, Dany went to open it, just as a hooded man grabbed her arm. Forcing her to drop her grip, Dany let out a groan of pain, which was when Lyanna pulled her bow off from around her shoulder, putting an arrow on it's string, pulling back, aiming at the hooded man, who was in the tight hold of Ser Jorah.

"You touch her and I loose this arrow in your throat," she hissed, spitting her words, wearing a glare on her face, until she realised who it was. "You... Ser Jorah, let him go!"

Jorah, trusting her instinct, let the man go. Lyanna turned back to Dany, only to see the ball had opened, and inches from her face was a manticore, its tail quivering, looking ready to strike. Lyanna attempted to kick it away, but it just hissed, jumping for Daenerys' face, until the newcomer impaled it with his dagger. Spinning around, Lyanna turned to face the little girl, who was crouched down slightly. Leaning over, she hissed, her purple teeth on show, betraying her as one of the warlocks of Quarth.

The warlock began to run to the edge of the water, and was about to jump. She would have escaped, if Lyanna hadn't loosed her arrow and if it hadn't punctured the back of the neck. What Lyanna was sure would have been a very neat jump into the water turned into a less-coordinated flop as the body hit the water.

"Good shot," the man said, and despite the hood she could see him smiling.

"Thanks," a smirk spread across her face.

"I'm glad to see you out of the capital,"

"Me too, for myself and you, that place was a cesspit," Lyanna nodded slightly, before turning to Daenerys, offering her a hand to help her up from the floor.

"I owe you my life, Ser," Dany thanked him, bowing her head in respect. Lyanna slung her bow back onto her shoulder as Ser Jorah put his hand on Dany's shoulder protectively.

"The pleasure is mine, my queen," he bowed his head as he pulled the hood off, revealing himself as Ser Barristan Selmy. Lyanna couldn't help but grin, something Dany noticed.

"You know this man?" She questioned. Lyanna nodded, the same smile on her face as she remembered him helping her after Joffrey had her tortured. Before she could speak though, Ser Jorah had already began talking wearing a frown on his face, looking upon Ser Barristan like he was untrustworthy.

"Aye, I know him," he spat, his hand tightening its grip on the hilt of his sword. "Ser Barristsn Selmy, of Robert Baratheon's Kings Guard,"

Daenerys recoiled back slightly, her eyes wide in a mix of disgust and shock. The old knight seemed to ignore this, standing his ground, still wearing a look of admiration on his own face.

"Robert Baratheon is dead," he spoke firmly but calmly, even though his head was on the line. "Before him, I served your father, King Aerys , and your brother and sister, Prince Rhaegar and Princess Ayrella. I failed them, and I wish to right my failure by serving you. Queen Daenerys, I wish to be a member of your Queens Guard,"

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Word count: 804

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