She does not. Then she gets .

"You're pathetic." she spat out. It came out a hoarse whisper. Her voice gravelly from disuse.

It was a foolish thing to do, she knew that, but she would not break so easily. He would punish her no doubt, whip her, **** her, beat her maybe even kill her. But she would not break.

To Daenerys' surprise, he pushed a cup to her lips. "Drink ****," he said. She turned away shocked. Water. Cold, clean water.

Not punishment, but a reward?

If it was some sort of trick she did not care. She reached up, the chains around her arms dragged and clanged together as she cradled the cold cup and gulped its contents down. Her chest heaved and much of the liquid split from the sides of her mouth over her cheeks and chin and down her body to the stone floor below.

It tasted clean and refreshing, pure. She swallowed more, drinking from it until her head spun and her body buzzed. It tasted of a dozen different things, of water and spiced ale, like the juices of a freshly cut fruit. The bitter tastte of tarts. It tasted like the dry gag once in her mouth, it tasted bitter and salty and of dirt.

The blindfold was pulled from her head, she squinted and winced as she saw light for the first time since gods know how long. She dropped the cup and a blue liquid spilled over the stone floor.

It was not water.

She knew the taste. Shade of the Evening, it was said to be a magical drink. A simple sip would give you visions of the past and future. Show you things no person should see. Tell you truths you should not know.

Daenerys had tasted it before in Qarth. The Warlocks there had fed it to her after they had stolen her dragons. They had hoped the visions would confuse her, trap her, drive her mad. They had not.

It would be no use to try to spit the vile liquid up, she had drunk far too much. She could feel it coating her teeth and tongue, bitter and dark. There was no fighting this.

Daenerys looked up at the man, Krazny? she could not be sure. Her vision doubled, then blurred until she could see little more than vague shapes and colors. Her head toppled and she had to catch herself from collapsing completely to the stone floor.

The drink would show her lies, she knew that, lies and deceit. She looked up once again after steadying herself. Kraznys was gone, she was alone, and the door was open. She **** herself to stand on unsteady legs, she ignored the ringing in her ears, the pounding of her heart. She **** herself to sees straight.

With one hand on the wall she braced herself hobbled to the door and left this hell.

She was Daenerys Targaryen, the last of her family's line, Mother of Dragons. **** would not break her, magic tricks and illusions would not break her. These slavers would learn the same deadly lesson the Warlocks of Qarth had, a dragon was not a ****.

It was warm outside her cell and she found it difficult to stand but she found strength in her freedom, with each step she moved faster, she leaned less on the wall for support, she had started with a stumble but quickly found herself running down the hall. She heard voices, she turned and ducked into an empty room.

Illusions, visions, prophetic dreams. She knew Shade of the Evening would twist her mind, show her falsehoods, but still, she wasn't prepared for what awaited her in that room.