Taken by a group of men.

Everything had happened so quickly. It started with smoke from a fire a few blocks away, followed by screaming and yelling. Then they had come out from the alleys like wasps, Sons of the Harpy in their gold-painted masks, swinging swords and spears and screaming. It had been utter chaos.

Daenerys nearly tripped as she was dragged down the alley. The hand on her arm dug painfully into her flesh.

“Move," one of the men said in Low-Valaryian, his voice muffled by the Harpy mask he wore. He looked back at her, his eyes wide and wild and his grip around her arm tightened and he gave her another tug.

"Move!" he said again urgently, not to her, but the others following.

There were four of them, all roughly the same height and build, all dressed in the same style robes. Like commoners, not poor, nor wealthy. Apart from the Harpy masks they looked no different than the thousands of Meereenese that had come out to see her.

There had been eight of them at first. Four coming from each side of the street. Half of them had paid for the attack with their lives, but they had managed to kill two of her guards and in the chaos grab her, pull her into an alley away from her Unsullied, then through two small homes and out the other side.

The alleys were cluttered with baskets and boxes and people half-hidden from the sun by the buildings that towered over them. They ran, nearly dragging her through one small passage and into another. A mindless maze filled with panicked people.

The attack had caused anarchy, it had sent all that had come to see her fleeing. They ran with them and against them. A near endless amount of people scattered in every direction, filling every alley, running to every home. They yelled and screamed in panic and fear which drowned out her own calls for help.

She fell, but they did not stop,dragging her before forcing her back to her feet.

"Go!" they demanded. At least they wanted her alive.

Then she heard it, commands, guards, Unsullied. It came from a few streets over maybe. It was so difficult to hear through the crowds of people.

She opened her mouth to call out, to alert them to her presence but a hand clamped down against her lips before she could speak. She was nearly picked off her feet, carried and pressed against a wall in a small alcove in the already small alley.

"No!" the man before her demanded, his hand smelt and tasted of sweat and dust. She could not see it, but she could feel the cold steel of a blade pressed against her belly.

She watched as they all exchanged nervous glances with each other. Two went to watch the alley, the other loosened her hand over her mouth, the fourth simply stared at her.

"What do you want?" she said softly, not wishing to provoke the men. A stupid question for sure, but maybe if she could talk to them. Maybe-- they ignored her. Instead sharing another series of questioning looks between themselves.

They hadn't expected to actually capture her. They had no plan.

"Run now, leave me, and maybe the Unsullied will never find you." Daenerys offered, she stood up straight, Queenly.

Her offer was enough to get the attention of one of the men, his eyes widening.

"No," the silent man finally spoke. "We do not run."

"We cannot stay here, they will find us, they will kill us." one of the men watching the alley whispered back at him.

"If we die, she dies," he said, and stepped forward. "We wait."

She glared at the man as he crept closer.

"She took everything from us. She does not get to go free."

He reached up, playing with a loose strand of silver-blonde hair that had come free. Then his dust cover hand traced her jaw.

"She must pay for her crimes."

Daenerys growled and spat in his face. He flinched but otherwise remained unphased. He smiled back at her, his eyes watching her lips now wet with her saliva. Then they drifted lower still, his hand followed, leaving her jaw and trailed down down her neck. The rough pad of his fingers rubbed against her soft, lightly tanned skin. His smile grew as her breath caught in her throat and her chest rose.

The dress she wore was made of thin silks, light and airy, its neckline plunging well below her breast. A godsend in the Essosi heat, but now? She suddenly regretted wearing it, feeling nearly naked under her captor's leering gaze.

His hand trailed across her neck, then down between her breast, his hand slipped towards her and Daenerys jerked away until she was backed up against the wall of the alcove. She threw her hand out to hit him but he easily shrugged the attack off. His hand slipped under her silks and cupped her breast. His palm pressed up against her, the rough pad of his thumb rubbing across her nipple.

Daenerys did not scream, did not beg, she stood defiant against his molestation.

"We wait," he said and his eyes caught hers. "The Unsullied are stupid slaves, unable to think for themselves. It won't be long until they are ordered to search another area of the city. We wait here until they leave. We wait and we punish her, " he spat. "make her repay us for all she has taken."