The Dragon that Decides 9

The Dragon that Decides
Chapter 9

-VB-

There was a need for an army even with my presence.

“But why?” Daeny asked.

“Because I cannot be everywhere, my dear,” I hummed while she sat on my lap and watched the city below us. It’s been less than a week since our “tour” of the great cities of Westeros, so it was only natural that we hadn’t made much of a movement. After all, the point of showing ourselves to the Westerosi nobles was to get them to do half of the work of her conquest.

“But what could an army do what you couldn’t?” she asked me with a raised eyebrow.

I gave her left tit a firm grope, making her bite her lower lips as I began playing with her nipple while massaging.

“They can patrol the roads so I don’t need to. The more you “use” me, the more your subjects will grow familiar with me. Familiarity will kill the strength of power that I exude as a dragon. Once that happens, they will tyr to undermine you in other ways. Contracts, obligations, duties. They will say things they won’t apply to themselves but expect you to lest you lose cooperation they give within “reasonable” bounds.”

She closed her eyes as her body trembled a little, both from the chilly winds brushing up against us on top of this tall Braavosi building and the way my hands were caressing her.

“By having an army under you, you can exert a secondary source of power without compromising me as a reliable source of power.”

“Where will we get it then? That army you keep insisting that I need when you are already with me?”

Oh la la, look at this girl, playing up the lover’s route.

“I’m with you?”

She pouted.

Cute attempt.

“We can take the patient plan or an impatient one. Impatient ones would involve making deals with the Free Cities, getting their golds, hiring mercenaries, and attacking Westeros like your ancestors did.”

She blinked even as she shuddered under my fingers and hands. “W-Wouldn’t that be the only way to get an army?”

“Mercenaries are not an army, Daeneyrs. Never forget that. They are temporary manpower that will leave you at a moment’s notice. They are not like the knights or even retinues of established lords. Each mercenary is a lord upon himself. He takes care of himself and no one else does. He has no loyalty to anyone, not even gold. Uneducated peasants might think that mercenaries are bloodless gold greedy killers, but gold is merely a means to an end.”

“What would be the patient path?” she asked with open curiosity.

“You - and I mean we by ‘you’ - will build you into someone the Westerosi will welcome with open arms.”

“... How?”

“There are many ways. This choice, ultimately, belongs to you, however.”

“It does?”

“Because there is a role that you must play that I cannot force you to do. For example, if you decide that taking down pirates, pirate cities, and freeing slaves is something you wish to do…”

Her eyes widened. “We could do that?”

“I am a dragon. Killing pirate is not outside my capabilities, especially when I fly faster than they can sail.”

“Then … what about slavers?”

“Hmm?”

“Like … Like Pentos and Lys.”

I grinned. “You want to take over multiple Free Cities? How ambitious of you.”

She scoffed but all I could see in her action was how pretty she was. “I intend to become the Queen of Westeros. A few cities shouldn’t stop me.”

“Ambitious indeed.”

“... What would be the other options?”

“Hmm? Oh yes, we can go the route your future self would have with a bit of twist. We can go over to Astapor, ‘exchange’ a ‘dragon’ for all of the Unsullied, have the masters of that city killed, free all of the slaves, and start a crusade of freeing slaves across southern Essos. With an army in the hundreds of thousands, you can easily conquer Westeros.”

She looked at me with shock. “I … did that?”

“Yes. It led to your death.”

She froze up.

“Two of your wyvernlings died, and in your rage, you burned down King’s Landing in rage. The people of Westeros, your then lover included, saw this as a continuation of your father’s madness,” I crooned as she paled. “Very bad business, that. Would you like to try it again? Another shot at fate?”

She slowly shook her head as her head dipped.

I hummed. “We still have some time before we will be forced to act. In the mean time, we can enjoy Braavos. Not many will recognize you here, and even those that do and wish you harm will not last long when I am with you.”

I left her to stew in her own thoughts.

Now, how exactly was she going to approach this?