Game of Thrones Iron Stark

Varys's message about Robert forming the Wall Guard had reached Daenerys.

She was still in Sheep Village, surrounded by the sheep folk.

Ser Jorah Mormont rode out every few days to gather news from the nearest town. He always came back with gifts and fresh intelligence, watching over her like a father. This time he returned alone on a single horse, clothes torn by thorns and covered in flower petals.

"Ser Jorah!" Daenerys cried, eyes filling with tears. With Drogo gone, Jorah was the only man she truly trusted.

"I'm fine, Khaleesi," he said quickly. "The flowers outside have mutated. It's a damn mess. But I brought back Varys's letter from King's Landing."

He handed her the sealed message. Daenerys took it but didn't open it yet.

"What's happening out there?" she asked. "The flowers mutated?"

"Far from the village the land is covered in them. Seven colors. Seven petals each."

Jorah pulled the bright petals from his clothes and showed her.

Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Indigo. Violet.

Daenerys stared at the impossibly beautiful flower. One of her baby dragons at her feet suddenly spat a tiny jet of flame and burned the petal to ash. It was the first time any of them had breathed real fire.

Jorah's eyes widened.

"Khaleesi, we're in Sheep Village. The chief will know what this is. Let's ask him."

In the village laboratory, Slow Sheep studied a beaker of thick green liquid.

"Wildfire," he muttered. "Nothing special. Any maester could make it. But why does it never truly die? Fire generates earth. The roots stay safe underground. When the rains come, the grass grows back. That's the cycle."

A blade of grass had sprouted on his head while he thought. It spread until it nearly buried him.

"Village Chief! Emergency!" Happy Sheep burst in. "Qiq i flowers are outside the village!"

Slow Sheep yanked the grass off his head. "What? Show me!"

Happy Sheep held out the seven-colored petals. Slow Sheep's face went grim.

"Those are the Qiq i flowers all right."

The Lhazar grasslands had once been decent pasture. Now the green was gone, replaced by a rolling sea of color. The sheep people stared in horror while Dothraki warriors and their horses tore into the flowers like they were the best thing they had ever tasted.

The blooms grew faster than anyone could eat them. Red like fire, pink like dawn, white like snow, gold like coins — they swayed in the wind, turning the plains into a living painting. Butterflies danced. The air smelled sweet. But the sheep folk knew trouble when they saw it.

In the village square Daenerys asked the chief the question everyone feared.

"Eating them won't cause problems, will it?"

Her khalasar and their horses had already eaten mountains of the stuff. They were addicted — stir-fried, steamed, soup, porridge. Without the flowers they refused everything else.

Slow Sheep's voice was heavy.

"Before, they were just bitter and harmless. Now that they taste good… we have a real problem."

Lazy Sheep rolled out from behind a barrel, cheeks stuffed, still chewing.

"These are amazing! I can't stop! And I'm not even sleepy!"

Happy Sheep's eyes went wide.

"Village Chief, Lazy Sheep hasn't slept in days! These flowers are like stimulants!"

Slow Sheep's expression darkened.

"No one eats another petal. We still have stored hay. Princess Daenerys, control your people. Now."

Daenerys nodded, jaw set.

"I will. They won't cause trouble in your village."

Outside, the colorful tide kept spreading. The grassland was gone.

Only flowers remained.