DAENERYS' CHAMBER – SHIP – NIGHT
The lamp flickered.
The silence between them stretched—until she rose.
Daenerys pushed herself up from the bed slowly. Her hair loose. Her eyes—clear now.
She looked at him.
Voice steady.
"Then say it."
Caesar's brows lifted.
A soft, surprised smile touched his lips.
"Why would I?"
She didn't answer right away.
And that silence—That silence said more than a word.
He watched her, and for the first time—truly looked.
Not the girl all innocents.
Not the child clinging to a brother's name.
But something growing.
Something darker.
A heat buried beneath.
Hatred—still young, still unsure, but alive.
A quiet, dangerous hate—for enemies she'd never even met.
His smile faded into thought.
She stepped off the bed, walking toward him with soft, careful steps.
She reached him—gazed at him—and leaned in.
A kiss.
Soft. Just the cheek.
He didn't flinch. Didn't smile.
But her voice was low and steady.
"If you do… you'll have me."
Her eyes didn't lie—but her hands trembled, gripping the fabric of her gown tightly at her sides.
He looked at her.
Exhaled.
"Stupid girl," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.
"You're already mine."
He stood. Calm. Measured.
And stepped toward her.
But her courage faltered in motion.
She stepped back.
Another step.
Another retreat.
Until the wall of the ship stopped her.
He came close—his shadow over hers.
He didn't stop.
He reached her.
Lifted a hand—tilted her chin—
And kissed her.
Gently. Firm.
When he pulled away, she hadn't moved.
Didn't breathe for a moment.
Eyes still locked to hers.
"Little queen," he murmured, brushing a strand of damp hair from her face.
"If you want me to do as you say…"
He met her gaze. Calm. Cold. Intimate.
"Be my queen."
He stepped back.
"For now… let your enemies live a little longer."
His voice dropped.
"We've got more to build before we burn."
Daenerys said nothing.
But she didn't look away.
Not anymore.
He turned.
Took two steps toward the door.
Paused.
Glanced back once—with something close to affection in his eyes.
Then left.
Click.
The door shut behind him.
Daenerys stood still.
Then exhaled hard—rushing back to the bed, her face flushed red.
She buried it in the sheets, lips pressed shut.
Daring in word. Shy in heart.
....
DAENERYS' CHAMBER – GREAT GALLEON – MORNING
BANG—BANG—SHOUTS!
Daenerys jolted awake.
The ship trembled beneath her—the low, grating groan of wood and iron shifting through ship. Something heavy. Many somethings.
She sat up quickly, heart pounding.
Her handmaidens were already stirring, calm, composed—but alert.
She looked at them.
Confused.
They weren't.
"…What is it?" she whispered.
No one answered.
But their silence said enough—they knew.
She slid off the bed, steadying herself as the ship tilted slightly. The floor creaked beneath her bare feet. She threw on her cloak, grabbed the railing, and stepped out.
MAIN DECK – MOMENTS LATER
The sea wind slapped her face as she climbed the short steps to the main deck.
Chaos.
Sailors moved fast—ropes pulled taut, sails flapping.
The galleon was turning.
She shielded her eyes from the rising sun—saw them.
Ships.
At least a dozen.
Closing in. Fast.
Their sails tattered, dark.
Not friendly.
And strangest of all—
The rest of their fleet—gone.
No other allied ships.
Just the great galleon—alone.
Daenerys turned sharply.
Caesar stood near the aft rail, arms crossed, watching the sea with a quiet grin like a man waiting on a punchline.
She approached him, boots thudding on the slick deck as sailors ran past shouting.
"What's happening?" she demanded.
"Who are they?"
Caesar didn't look away.
"A hunt," he said plainly.
"Stepstone pirates, if I'm not wrong."
She blinked.
"…Pirates?"
He nodded.
"They think they've found a fat sheep."
She turned again—watching the pirate ships grow closer.
Her voice dropped.
"Where are the others? The rest of our fleet?"
He laughed—dry, amused.
"If they were still here, these cowards wouldn't come close."
The wind blew hard from the wrong side. Their sails strained.
The galleon creaked again.
The pirates were gaining.
But Caesar's smile only widened.
"READY FOR FIRE!"
His voice rang across the deck like a bell.
Sailors around them shouted in response—
"READY FOR FIRE!"
The gun ports on the galleon's side slid open with groaning hinges, revealing black iron mouths pointed at the sea.
Daenerys stepped closer in surprise.
She looked at Caesar.
"What is—?"
"Close your ears," he said calmly.
She hesitated.
He didn't.
So she did.
Then—
BOOM.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
Thunder erupted from the galleon's side.
The first two pirate ships in the line simply ceased to exist—splinters, fire, men thrown screaming into the air like dolls.
Daenerys flinched, staggering from the blast's echo.
Smoke. Powder. Blood.
She watched in stunned silence as sailors scrambled to reload.
Then—
Retreat.
The pirate ships began to veer off, their tight formation breaking.
But they were too late.
From the mist behind them—more sails.
More ships.
Dormon.
Rowers in rhythm, oars biting the sea, the great Dormon warships moved like hounds chasing a crippled deer.
The pirates didn't know.
They were being herded.
Surrounded.
Caesar stepped forward, wind flapping his cloak.
"They'll try to run now," he said.
"But the wind's not theirs."
Daenerys looked at him.
"You planned this."
He grinned.
"I hoped for it."
The galleon turned again, slower now. The wind fought them, but the ship had teeth.
They gained again.
Final charge.
The Dormon smashed into the nearest pirate ship—splintering it mid-hull.
Men screamed.
Then—
Greek fire.
The sea lit up red.
Sails burned. Ships broke.
And Daenery's didn't even blink.
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