The Bells of Submission
---
POV: Daenerys – The Queen in the Temple
The temple of the Bearded God had once been the heart of Norvos. Bells tolled above its spires, summoning the faithful to kneel before their priests.
Now the bells tolled for her.
Daenerys sat upon a high seat draped with crimson and silver banners, Leonidas standing sentinel beside her. The magisters knelt below, their silks dulled with fear.
"You will govern in my name," she told them, her voice carrying across the chamber. "You will collect taxes not for your own purses, but for the city and the horde. You will swear oaths not to your priests, but to your queen."
The words struck like thunder. Murmurs spread — outrage, disbelief. To demand such fealty was heresy. The priests of the Bearded God stepped forward, their long beards trembling with indignation.
"This city belongs to Him," their leader declared. "Not to a silver-haired girl and her foreign butcher."
The room went still.
Leonidas stepped forward, spear in hand, his shadow falling across the priest. "Then let Him defend it."
The priest faltered, sweat beading his brow. He opened his mouth, but Daenerys rose before he could speak further.
"Your god may keep his temple," she said coolly. "But the city now belongs to me. Bend, and your faith will live. Resist, and you will see whose fire burns hotter — yours, or mine."
Her eyes blazed violet. The priests bent the knee.
For the first time, Daenerys Targaryen felt the weight of true rulership. She was no longer the girl gifted as a bride. She was a queen commanding a city.
And the bells tolled in submission.
---
POV: Leonidas – Order in Chaos
Conquest was simple. Rule was harder.
Leonidas patrolled the streets with his Spartans, bronze shields gleaming as they enforced the new order. Looters were dragged into the square, their braids cut, their whips broken. Spartan discipline was brutal, but swift.
"Justice must be quick," Leonidas told his captains. "A punishment delayed is rebellion invited."
The Dothraki grumbled, but even they began to see the wisdom. When raids ceased, food returned to the markets. When markets opened, wealth flowed. When wealth flowed, the horde grew rich.
Spartan law became the Crimson Horde's law.
Leonidas allowed Daenerys to be mercy. He would be fear.
---
POV: Rakharo – The Dothraki Learning
Rakharo had thought walls made men weak. But now he saw walls feed armies.
The city gave tribute, not only in gold but in steel, grain, and horses. The Spartans taught riders to guard gates, to patrol streets, to stand in ranks instead of roaming like wolves.
At first, the Dothraki spat at the thought of guarding "stone pens." But when Norvosi merchants offered them wine, gold, and women freely — because they feared them — the riders began to smile.
Perhaps a city was not weakness. Perhaps it was power.
---
POV: Daenerys – The Eggs Stir Again
At night, Daenerys returned to her chamber. The dragon eggs lay near the fire, warm beneath her touch.
This time, she swore she saw it: a faint crack running along the cream-and-gold shell.
Her breath caught.
"They are waking," she whispered.
Leonidas' hand rested on her shoulder. "So are you."
She leaned into him, silver hair brushing his chest. "When they hatch, the world will kneel."
He smiled grimly. "The world will kneel long before that."
---
Across the Free Cities
Braavos – The Iron Bank
In a marble chamber lit by lanterns, cold-eyed bankers studied reports.
"Norvos has fallen," one intoned. "Its bells ring for the Dragon Queen and her bronze warlord."
Another tapped his ledger. "She commands a treasury now. She pays her soldiers not in plunder, but in coin. That makes her dangerous."
"Shall we fund her?" a younger banker asked.
The elder's lips curled. "Perhaps. Or perhaps we fund her enemies. Debt is sharper than any spear."
---
Volantis – The Red Temple
In the fire-lit temple, priests chanted before flames that showed visions of silver hair and bronze shields.
"The Stallion is dead," the High Priest declared, "but the Dragon rides with a Lion of War. The Lord of Light has chosen them."
Fanatics cried out, demanding they march east to serve the new queen. But older priests hesitated. To anoint a conqueror was to invite chaos.
Still, the fires burned hotter that night.
---
Pentos – Illyrio Mopatis
The fat magister dined in silks, though sweat beaded his brow.
"So," he murmured, "the girl is more than a pawn."
Messengers brought him word: Daenerys and Leonidas had taken Norvos, seized its wealth, and bent its people to their will.
Illyrio stroked his beard, calculating. If she grew too strong, she might spurn his patronage. But if he abandoned her, she might burn him.
He raised a goblet, smiling faintly. "Perhaps the game has changed."
---
Qohor
The blacksmiths of Qohor trembled at the reports. Spartans demanded steel, Dothraki demanded horses, and Daenerys demanded tribute.
"Send them arms," the magisters urged. "Better to arm them than to defy them. At least if they are fed, they will look elsewhere."
---
Westeros – King's Landing
In the Red Keep, King Robert bellowed with laughter when he heard the news.
"A girl takes a city across the sea, and we are to tremble? Bah! Let her come!" He sloshed wine across the floor.
But Eddard Stark stood silent, frowning deeply.
"A city has fallen," he said at last. "Not to a khalasar raid, but to siege. To order. To discipline. This is no child's play, Robert. This is the beginning of war."
---
POV: Daenerys – Closing Scene
At dawn, she stood atop the highest tower of Norvos. The city spread beneath her, its people waking to new banners, its bells tolling in her name.
She raised her hands, silver hair streaming, the dragon eggs warm at her feet.
"I am Daenerys Stormborn, Queen of Fire and Bronze," she whispered to the wind.
Leonidas stood behind her, his shield resting on the stones, his eyes on the horizon.
And far away, in the Free Cities and across the Narrow Sea, her enemies stirred.
The world had begun to take her seriously.
And soon, it would burn.