Disclaimer: I own nothing beside my crazy mind and my computer… and sometimes it's more them owning me…

There is an eventual second chapter if it's asked for.

Daenerys Targaryen always loved braids in her hair. As a child, when Viserys was leaving her alone, she could play with her hair for hours. Making different types of braids, known or unknown. Sheinvented a few.

Once she got married, or rather sold, to Khal Drogon, a man she learned to love, she found herself surrounded with handmaidens. Irri, Jiqui and Doreah knew how to braid hair of course, but the braids they made were always wrong, too "dothraki". However, Daenerys started to love them too because that's how Dothraki people measure power.

When Drogo died she asked Irri to braid her hair like a Khal. At first, the poor handmaiden refused. Saying that she had not won battles yet. But with time, she came around and braided Dany's hair in a long almost white plait that went all the way down to Dany's back.

It gave the Khaleesi the feeling of power. When she hung her first ringing bell in it, after she defeated Quarth and its Warlocks, she found herself so proud of that little bell that she ordered a feast in honor of her dearly departed husband, Khal Drogo, who, and she was sure about it, was guiding her footsteps from the Spirit world. She also asked that no one ever forgets about Irri and Jiqui who gave their lives to try and protect her children.

But by then, her handmaidens had been killed. And though everyone celebrated the victory, Dany felt more alone then ever. Irri, Jiqui, even Doreah were her friends, they were her confidents. They knew everything about her. Doreah's betrayal felt like a wound that would stay open forever.

That's when Dany decided that she would not take handmaidens again. From now on, she would dress herself, bath herself and braid her hair alone. She lost the ability to trust anyone. Something she had always found difficult, she was now unable to provide.

Of course there was Ser Jorah, her great bear, her knight. She trusted his judgement. He was a good advisor. And she knew that he would protect her with his life if need be. But a knight is not a handmaiden. Handmaidens are so intimate, they know every single detail. They must be the most trustworthy persons in the khalassar. Doreah took that away from Dany. And even if Doreah wasn't Dothraki, Dany loved her more than a sister. She admired her skills. Her beauty. There had been nights where Dany awoke from the burning desire of Doreah's skin against her. How can you love and trust someone like that again, after being betrayed on such a personal level?

Then she went to Astapor.

The city disgusted her. The thought that she was there to buy slaves was enough to make her stomach turn. But she needed an army to take back the Westeros. Her plan had been cleared from the moment she met Kraznys mo Nakloz. More precisely from the moment she laid eyes on his slave, a young girl named Missandei. She was the translator. Not that Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, blood of the old Valyria needed translation from Valyrian.

She took her time to observe the reactions of the young slave at each insult Kraznys threw to her face. What she saw... there was a fire in the young Naathi girl's eyes. Her features remained emotionless but her eyes... her eyes said the thousand words her mouth could not pronounce.

Something in Dany stirred. She felt attracted to Missandei in a way she never experienced. She knew desire. She knew lust. But what she felt for the little scribe was deeper. She could not explain it to herself. She just knew that she needed Missandei by her side.

So when Dany met with Kraznys again to negotiate the price of the Unsullied, she asked, as a gesture of good will, to be given Missandei. Kraznys never saw the potential in the young woman. He treated her poorly. Dany would see the faint scars on her back.

"You belong to me now." that's the first thing Dany told her. And she regretted it. When she heard herself, the Khaleesi knew it was wrong. She needed to know more about the slave, she needed to know if she wouldn't betray her and go back to her old master.

So she offered her a way out.

"What about you? You know that I'm taking you to may go hungry. You may fall sick. You may be killed..." the thought of the young woman laying in her blood made the Mother of Dragons tremble.

"Valar Morghulis" answered Missandei.

"Yes. All men must die. But we are not men."

At that moment, Daenerys knew that the young woman would stay with her, no matter what.

"I'd like you to be more than my translator, Missandei. But I want you to be honest and refuse if you don't want to. You are free now. You decided to follow me and I... My handmaidens died. One betrayed me and I had to punish her. I have been without handmaiden for quite some times now. I can manage, getting dressed and braiding my hair is no hard task compared to ruling Seven Kingdoms. But I am missing..."

"Company? Your Grace?" she spoke really fast and looking down.

"Yes" sighted Dany, almost relieved that Missandei understood her immediately.

"I would be honored to be your handmaiden and your translator and whatever other task you'd like me to do, your Grace." she said softly.

Dany smiled. She was smiling at nothing really. She was just happy. It's been a long time since she felt happy about a new encounter. About a new friendship.

"Your Grace, I haven't been entirely honest. There is something you must know..." Dany stopped dead in her tracks, taking a grip on Missandei's arm more for support than for stopping her. She suddenly felt dizzy.

"What? What is it?" she asked quickly.

"I make the most beautiful braids you'll ever see." stated Missandei in a matter of factly tone.

It took Dany a second to let it sink in. But then she bursted into laughter. Taking Missandei in her arms as she would an old friend. Missandei was stiff in the embrace at first but she quickly relaxed and returned the hug. For a shining second, she closed her eyes and enjoyed the feeling of Dany's hands rubbing her back and the smell of her silver hair. But the warmth of her skin was the thing that Missandei remembered most clearly. She felt like the gentle morning sun: fresh and warm at the same time. And for the whole time the embrace took place, both women felt safe. As if an impenatrable bubble was surrounding them.

Dany coughed her way out of the embrace. Not that she didn't want it to last. They were in public and that was not a proper behavior if she wanted her plan to succeed.

"Let's go back to my tent and find you new clothes. We also have to get rid of that collar. You are not a slave anymore and this looks hideous on your beautiful skin." she said as her finger traces the borders of the iron collar.

"Yes... your Grace" said Missandei in a gasp. Dany couldn't help but notice that the once golden eyes were now dark brown and that there was a slight blush creeping on Missandei's cheeks. They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity then broke eye contact and made their way to the tent quietly.