Grey Worm couldn't sleep. The night was hot and still, and his bedding was moist from his sweat. He rolled over to the side of the bed, grabbed the handle of the glass water flask and poured himself a cup. Once he drank his fill, he pulled off his linen shirt and neatly folded it before placing it on the chair that stood near his bed. This place was too comfortable. He would have preferred to sleep down in the barracks with the rest of his Unsullied brothers, but the Mother of Dragons had insisted that he have his own quarters.

He stood up abruptly and walked to the arched window and gazed out at the city of Meereen. It was free of the Master's grip now. Its opulence and greed whittled down with the arrival of Queen Daenerys. Yet, there was still danger that lurked in the shadows, danger that occasionally slit the throats of his brothers. White Rat had been the first; his throat slit as he found comfort in the arms of a woman at one of the many pleasure houses. White Rat, who had been his friend and confidant. Now, he was dead, and Grey Worm felt the quiet burn of grief threatening to break through his Unsullied conditioning. This was weakness, these feelings he had for the death of his friend. He tried to bury his sadness, to inundate it with thoughts of revenge, but it remained just as sharp as ever, buried within his stomach like a twisted blade.

He knew that Missandei had begun to notice a change in him, that he was more than his armor, spear, and helmet. More than just an implement utilized by the Queen. Sometimes, he caught her staring at him with wide luminous eyes, her lips soft and sad on her face. When their eyes met in these rare moments, he knew that she saw him, saw him as a man and not just some Unsullied commander who had survived the brutalities of being cut as a child.

The thought of Missandei, her beautiful eyes, her hair that drifted about her like a dark halo, her soft, kind voice. Her breasts… He pushed himself away from the window and grabbed his shirt, pulling it over his head. He needed a walk, needed to breathe something other than the stuffy air of his room. He needed to get her out of his mind.

The streets were empty. Ever since Drogon had killed the girl child, the citizens of Meereen felt it safer to stay indoors during the night hours. Grey Worm was happy that the city was quiet, that he had the streets to himself. He walked for a while, eventually breaking into a slow trot as he meandered through the market place, past the temple, towards the Queen's residence; the Great Pyramid of Meereen.

The pyramid rose above the city like a mountain, casting shadows that played in the corners of Grey Worm's mind. Shadows of his fallen brothers. Shadows that whispered things to his soul…to his heart. Missandei was up there, in the shadows, most likely sleeping in a bed of furs and silk. Her soft hair pulled up into a sleeping knot. Grey Worm stopped trotting and gazed up at the moonlit pyramid and willed himself to squash the feelings he held for Missandei. It would not serve his men or the Queen to have these thoughts, to be preoccupied with the woman he loved, but could not have. He turned away from the Great Pyramid and headed back to his quarters.

Missandei couldn't sleep even though she was exhausted. She had spent the whole day with Queen Daenerys, hearing the request and complaints of the citizens of Meereen. Standing all day in the Great Hall was no small feat, and her legs were punishing her for it. But that was not the reason for her sleeplessness. No, it was Grey Worm that kept her awake at night. It was the touch of his fingers against her own during their daily Common Tongue lessons. It was the glances she stole of him when she thought he wasn't looking. It was the warmth of his eyes; rich and wise, yet sad. It was the kindness that he showed to the orphans of the city, his loyalty to the Queen, the sound of his voice…

Missandei sighed and closed her eyes, envisioning Grey Worm's face and wishing, wishing for something, some sign that he wanted her and thought of her like she did him. But he was Unsullied, and his dedication to his men, to this city, to the will of the Queen, surely surpassed any feelings he might have for her.

Missandei sat up in her bed and pulled a light robe over her shoulders. Her window provided a moonlit view of the city, and as she gazed out of it, a slight breeze caressed her face, bringing with it a moment of relief from the stifling heat. Her eyes wandered down to the streets that flowed out from the great pyramid and meandered through the city like magnificent serpents. No one was walking the streets this evening as Drogon's presence ensured a nightly curfew.

She sighed and leaned against the cold stone of the window. It felt good against her skin. She turned to return to her bed when she noticed that there was someone walking on the street, away from the Great Pyramid and towards the Barracks of the Unsullied and their Commander, Grey Worm. Her heart leapt into her throat and she felt her breathing quicken. The man was too far away to make out his face, but his form suggested that it him, her Grey Worm. Missandei fought the urge to call out to him and backed away from the window. She wept in frustration. She wept for Grey Worm.