Your Grace, allow me to present the Captains of the Second Sons: Mero of Braavos, Prendahl Na Ghezn, and...
Daario Naharis.
You're the mother of Dragons? I swear I fucked you once, in a pleasure house in Lys.
Mind your tongue.
Why? I didn't mind hers. She licked my ass like she was born to do it. [grins at her, then gestures to Missandei] You, slave girl. Bring wine.
We have no slaves here.
You'll all be slaves after the battle, unless I save you. Take your clothes off, and come and sit on Mero's lap, and I may give you my Second Sons.
Give me your Second Sons, and I may not have you gelded. Ser Barristan, how many men fight for the Second Sons?
Under two thousand, Your Grace.
We have more, don't we?
Ten thousand Unsullied.
I'm only a young girl, new to the ways of war, but perhaps a seasoned Captain like yourself can explain to me how you propose to defeat us?
I hope the old man is better with a sword than he is with a lie. You have eight thousand Unsullied.
You're very young, to be a Captain.
He isn't a Captain; he's a lieutenant.
Even if your numbers are right, you must admit the odds don't favor your side.
The Second Sons have faced worse odds and won.
The Second Sons have faced worse odds and run.
Or, you could fight for me.
We've taken the slavers' gold. We fight for Yunkai.
I would pay you as much, and more.
Our contract is our bond. If we break our bond, no one will hire the Second Sons again.
Ride with me, and you'll never need another contract. You'll have gold and castles and lordships of your choosing, when I take back the Seven Kingdoms.
You have no ships, you have no siege weapons. You have no cavalry.
A fortnight ago, I had no army. A year ago, I had no dragons. You have two days to decide.
Show me your cunt. I want to see if it's worth fighting for.
[in Valyrian] My Queen, shall I slice out his tongue for you?
[smiles, replies in Valyrian] These men are our guests. [to Mero] You seem to be enjoying my wine. Perhaps you'd like a flagon to help you think it over?
Only a flagon? And what are my brothers-in-arms to drink?
A barrel, then?
Good! The Titan's Bastard does not drink alone. In the Second Sons, we share everything. Maybe after the battle, we'll all share you. I'll come looking for you after this is over.
Ser Barristan, if it comes to battle, kill that one first.
Gladly, Your Grace.
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