But what surprised her the most was seeing Daenerys. She had always been a beautiful woman, but now she looked like a goddess, almost ethereal. She moved with the coordination and grace of a dancer, and her voice now carried a musical quality, as if every word were part of a melody. And her eyes, still violet, now glowed with an almost hypnotic inner light, making it impossible for Missandei to look away.
Her body was flawless, not a single scratch in sight, and she wore a satisfied smile as she wrapped herself in the Targaryen banner.
—Gods, thank you, Missandei. We forgot to bring a change of clothes —she said with a smile so radiant that Missandei felt her heart skip a beat.
—You look different, my lady —was all Missandei could say, averting her eyes as the queen dressed.
—Different how? —Daenerys asked with genuine curiosity, and even her question sounded like music flowing.
Vlad's deep voice emerged from beneath another banner bearing his own sigil.
—She's stunned by your breathtaking beauty, my queen —he said in a playful tone, pulling on a pair of pants while leaving his chest bare. —You make the rest of the world look dull by comparison.
Daenerys laughed with the carefree joy of a child, rolling her eyes.
—Don't listen to my husband, Missandei. Flattery is a cheap substitute for truth —she teased with a regal air.
Vlad laughed heartily.
—Damn it, you know all my tricks —he said as he leaned in and gave her a passionate kiss.
Missandei could only blush. The passion between the couple—who now looked like gods of beauty—left her dazed.
—How long were we gone in total, Missandei? —Vlad asked, turning to her.
—Four days in total, my king.
Vlad clicked his tongue in mild annoyance.
—I suppose we should emerge, my love, or the realm might collapse without us.
Daenerys kept laughing as she wrapped her arms around his chest, the gesture comical due to their difference in height.
—Heavy lies the head that wears the crown —she quipped, repeating her own joke.
Vlad rolled his eyes and said:
—Time to prepare for war.
Daenerys smiled beautifully.
—We'll make them pay —she said darkly, but to Vlad, it only made her look even sexier.
Thus, the days passed pleasantly for Vlad. Truth be told, the bonding ritual had weakened him, but only in terms of his status as a progenitor vampire. For any human or regular vampire, he was still the strongest being alive, and he needed only a couple of weeks to recover. The best part was that he could use that time to prepare his fleet and men for war.
Throughout his stay in Meereen, he had trained his troops in modern battle tactics—formations, trench-building, guerrilla warfare. Notably, his army was well supplied thanks to the generosity of the cities in Slaver's Bay; every soldier had armor, a shield, a sword, and a spear.
Vlad had personally ordered Valyrian steel armor to be forged for both himself and Daenerys. Thanks to the death of the warlocks of the House of the Undying in Qarth, he had obtained the secrets to create this mythical metal, and now was a perfect time to put them into practice.
The process wasn't difficult—the hardest part was obtaining real steel using the forges of the era before heat-treating it with dragon fire. After melting it, it was tempered in a mixture treated with blood magic.
The armor had been under construction since they arrived in Meereen and would only be finished right before Vlad's departure—which, in truth, was rather fast, considering they needed his constant help in forging it. Vlad had also commissioned a Valyrian steel sword for Daenerys. Since her transformation, her new nature allowed her to march into battle without fear, and he wasn't about to deprive her of such a pleasure.
As for Daenerys's new nature, the situation was complicated. As a newly turned vampire, she was still overwhelmed by her new impulses—but, interestingly, she hadn't killed anyone yet.
Vlad attributed it to her inherently kind and compassionate nature. What she did struggle to control, however, was her desire to be with him. Now that she no longer tired, Vlad had to constantly remind her they had to leave the bedroom. If he didn't, they might spend weeks doing nothing but hours and hours of sex.
Vlad eventually got her to channel all that energy into her new hobby, training with the sword. Ser Barristan and Jorah had initially objected, but after seeing the effects of the "ritual," they set aside most of their concerns.
Daenerys now moved with the grace and coordination of a trained dancer; she was fast and strong. Vlad asked her to keep her feats within human limits, or it would create problems. He wanted to delay the annoyance of people seeing them as gods—at least for a few centuries—so keeping their strength at human levels would help.
But even while staying within human scale, her new coordination, reflexes, and agility made her quite a competent warrior. If she had been taller than 5'7", she might have been even more intimidating.
Ser Barristan praised her constantly for her quick learning and talent. Vlad invented a lie about having awakened the magic in her Targaryen blood, which let him avoid explaining things in detail. The ever-reliable "a sorcerer did it" never failed.
Preparing their departure from Meereen wasn't without setbacks. The Sons of the Harpy, those pesky "liberators", came out of their holes to cause trouble, killing several Unsullied patrols before they could be tracked down. Vlad wanted to leave the matter to Daenerys; it was a good way for her to let loose for a while and kill for the first time. So, he put her in command of his Bloodriders, and in less than five days, the Sons of the Harpy and all their sympathizers were tied to stakes, impaled in Meereen's main square. As much as Vlad would have liked to witness an impalement himself, this was Daenerys's moment.