Chapter 54 — Everyone Wants Joffrey Dead
The founding of the Academy wouldn't mean every discipline could be taught immediately.
This first wave of applicants served not only as preparation for future classes, but also as a way to identify talent—so that when the need arose, Daenerys would know exactly whom to call upon.
After tallying and interviewing the candidates, everyone was categorized and given a preliminary assessment of their abilities.
For now, the Academy would open with four major subjects: governance, medicine, languages, and general scholarship.
Down the line, specialized branches like architecture, music, and the fine arts might follow.
"Governance" itself encompassed a wide range of fields: city administration, military logistics, statecraft, and more—each of which would later be divided into more detailed modules.
"Scholars" were those with broad and reliable knowledge: basic history, geography, noble relations, house heraldry and mottos—anything essential to understanding the world.
A certified scholar would then be qualified to teach others.
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Missandei balanced Academy planning with authoring the first ever formal textbook for learning languages.
Her first project was a beginner's guide to the Common Tongue—spoken throughout the continent of Westeros.
Most Unsullied only spoke High Valyrian.
Even Grey Worm had only begun learning the Common Tongue after pledging himself to Daenerys—relying solely on spoken instruction from Jorah and Missandei.
If Missandei managed to produce a proper learning text, they could not only speak, but also read and write—skills Grey Worm would need as Daenerys' highest-ranking field commander.
Beyond language, Grey Worm—and any future military leaders—would also need basics in mathematics, geography, and regional history.
Otherwise, discussing strategy would be impossible.
With a proper textbook, every officer among the Unsullied could learn—not just Grey Worm.
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Watching Missandei work tirelessly, Daren felt a surge of envy—mixed with admiration.
He, too, understood what a milestone authorship could be.
Once he grasped the Academy's core philosophy, he instantly foresaw its future impact:
No oaths required.
No distinction between noble and commoner, man or woman.
Only ability matters.
Under such a system, Daren could easily imagine the Academy growing into an institution larger than any city—drawing talent from every land.
Now Daenerys also encouraged scholars to write books, not just study them.
It was yet another way to attract brilliant minds—while expanding the Academy's influence at the same time.
Having joined so early, Daren felt that if he didn't author a book someday, he would die with regret.
His mind was already racing with possibilities of what knowledge he might preserve in writing.
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While the Academy was taking shape, word arrived from Astapor.
The ringleader of the uprising—Cleon the Butcher—and his chief accomplices had been captured and were already on their way back to Yunkai to face judgment.
However, Jorah's forces still arrived too late to prevent Cleon's worst deed.
By the time they marched into Astapor, Cleon had already castrated the noble boys of the great families—
turning them into a new generation of Unsullied.
A twisted cycle—
the sons of former slave-masters remade into slaves themselves.
Thankfully, Jorah and Grey Worm arrived in time to save the three temporary council members from execution.
Daenerys hadn't expected mercy to claw back at her like this.
The children she chose not to punish had now become soldiers without choice.
Following Daenerys' orders, Jorah and Grey Worm crushed the uprising, left behind one thousand Unsullied to maintain order, and began returning the rest of the forces to Yunkai.
A day later, Jorah and Grey Worm returned to Yunkai, bringing with them Cleon the Butcher and more than a dozen ringleaders of the Astapor uprising.
Cleon was tall and broad-shouldered, his skin dark as coal.
He had once been a slave—but judging by his frame and demeanor, he'd hardly lived the life of one who suffered.
Dragged onto the execution grounds, Cleon and the others still tried to justify their actions.
Daenerys gave them no chance—Missandei read out a list of their crimes for the crowd to hear:
overthrowing the temporary council Daenerys had left in charge,
mutilating noble children to create "new Unsullied,"
plotting to crown Cleon as "King of Astapor,"
and openly disregarding Daenerys' authority as the rightful queen.
Daenerys would never allow those she had freed to be shackled again.
Nor would she permit Astapor—a city won by her fire and blood—to become someone else's prize.
She had ordered all the ringleaders brought to Yunkai to be executed publicly—not only as punishment, but as a warning:
to the surviving masters, to the factions whispering in New and Old Ghis, and to anyone else emboldened by chaos—those who tried to seize her cities would meet the same fate.
From afar, the crowd watched as heads fell one after another, rolling across the dust.
Gasps rippled outward—no one had expected Daenerys to show such merciless resolve toward former slaves she had once saved.
In that moment, many finally realized:
Daenerys Stormborn was more than the gentle "Mhysa" in their hearts.
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After the executions, Daenerys stationed a thousand Unsullied in Yunkai and appointed Daryn as temporary administrator.
Then, leading six thousand Unsullied and two thousand Second Sons, she marched east toward Meereen.
With his own worries settled at last, Drogon could no longer stay idle.
He took wing once more.
First, he went to Pentos—Shireen must be struggling to adjust, he reasoned, and he wanted to check on her.
Only after seeing that she was safe did he fly to King's Landing.
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The situation there had barely shifted in the past few days:
Tyrion was soon to stand trial for regicide, and what remained of House Stark clung stubbornly to Riverrun.
The news of Walder Frey's "Red Wedding" had spread across the North and the Riverlands.
Word of Roose Bolton's betrayal had reached the northern lords, who united their forces and stormed Winterfell in search of Ramsay Snow—only to find it abandoned, Ramsay vanished without a trace.
Varys' latest letter held another report—one Drogon had long anticipated:
Maester Aemon of the Night's Watch had sent ravens to the crown and every lord of Westeros.
The White Walkers had stirred.
The dead were marching toward the Wall.
The Watch had done its duty; the Seven Kingdoms, however, did not.
Cersei, Tywin, and the rest of the great houses dismissed the warnings, too consumed by civil war to care.
With the Wall standing strong for a thousand years, they treated the threat as a myth.
But Drogon knew better.
He would not allow Viserion to fall and be reborn as an ice-wreathed terror—not this time.
Yet even with the Wall intact, he did not believe Westeros was safe.
A thousand men in black could never hope to stop the Night King's endless army.
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Varys suspected the "mysterious benefactor" might have had a hand in Joffrey's demise.
His investigations found only the corpse of Dontos, the drunken fool-turned-jester, and from that he deduced the truth:
The man who spirited Sansa away had also been Dontos—and someone had silenced him.
Varys began to suspect that Dontos' involvement meant Joffrey's death was no coincidence.
He discreetly asked Drogon whether he knew the true mastermind.
Drogon had never intended to hide that truth from Varys—after all, he still needed Varys to spread the right message.
He left the spymaster a letter, then took to the skies, returning to Daenerys.
His flight was much faster than before—almost twice as swift.
Now, flying to King's Landing felt like nothing more than dropping by a neighbor's house.
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King's Landing — the dungeons
Dressed in rags, hair matted and filthy, Tyrion crouched on a pile of straw, replaying Joffrey's death in his mind.
Plenty of people wanted the boy-king dead.
Tyrion could only narrow the possibilities, one by one.
The least likely was his sister, Cersei.
For all Joffrey's cruelty—beheading Ned Stark out of spite and defying her wishes—she would never kill her own son.
His father Tywin, however…
that was another matter.
For the sake of the family, Tyrion could imagine Tywin doing anything—even murdering his own grandson.
After all, Tommen would be a much easier king to control.