Mother Of Dragons

Chapter 13

Khal Drogo

Drogo was getting more and more anxious the closer they got to Vaes Dothrak. He was in a hurry to get there and get Daenerys settled into their home. In just a matter of weeks, she had gone from having a little bump the size of an apple to one the size of a small orange melon, bigger than his hand clasped around his fist. She seemed fine besides being tired a lot, but he as anxious to get her home so she could relax and just concentrate on counting her days before their son was born.

He practiced every night on bringing down another horse with just his rope and the stone knife Cohollo had shown him how to use. He could not fail her, this being the ultimate test to prove he could be a good husband and father. He needed to provide for his Khaleesi, and ensure his son would be born strong and whole. She was doing her part, her handmaidens reporting back to him that the fresh blood and clean cuts of meat were being consumed until two nights ago, and he knew that Dany's intention was to fast to make sure her body wouldn't betray them both and reject the heart.

He sat and enjoyed the entertainment and food the last night on the road. Women were dancing, and a great amount of meat was being passed around for the last meal of the night, some parts of it the horse he had brought down just hours before. Dany sat in her favorite place between his spread thighs, the back of her head resting on his chest. He had given up urging her to eat, seeing the stubborn set of her jaw when he would try to push food into her hands, or a small bite into her mouth. He had tried, privately in their home, to make her eat, and was glad that no one had seen him lose a fight to a young girl.

The lack of food was making her a bit listless, though, so he was content to just hold her and let her be comfortable in his arms. She was already dressed for bed, and he could tell she'd had a bath; the sensual scents of spiceflowers and cinnamon wafted up from her hair and skin for his pleasure. He reached out and touched the skin on her neck softly, and managed to keep his smile to himself as he felt the oil from Irri's massage still clinging to her. Good. She's being well cared for when I'm not around. I just have to get this done. Worrying about it won't change it, he reasoned with himself suddenly. The sooner we get there, we can get this over with and things will be all right again. Drogo took a long drink of his lamekh, his horn never empty as he repeatedly held it out to be refilled. Tonight, his thoughts were getting the best of him, and he needed the drink to keep his head from becoming too busy. He didn't want to fail her. He didn't want to fail his entire khalasar with this task. Everything was riding on his shoulders to make this happen, and then on Daenerys' shoulders to keep it down. He had seen more men fail to bring down the stallion than he had seen women be unsuccessful in eating the heart. I am fucking Khal Drogo. I have never been defeated. There is no man or beast that has evaded me. I will do this thing, and I will do it well. The assertion did nothing to make his mind shut up.

He felt Daenerys put her little hand on his knee, seeming to know his thoughts. Her gesture soothed him immensely, quieting his mind, the warmth of her hand seeping into him as surely as the drink. He looked down at her, but her eyes were on the dancing women. He looked past her lovely face down to the bulge hiding under her clothes. He avoided looking at her during the day, her pregnant belly gearing him up so often that it would surely add another day onto this trip if he gave in to her charms every time he looked her way. He knew that she had noticed, but her disappointment would have to wait to be soothed once they reached home.

He watched her for a moment, her eyes locked onto her girl from Lys, dancing for her husband. The stupid fool was watching another woman, though. He couldn't believe it. He hoped she would leave his stupid ass. He remembered not caring about which woman was who, but now . . . there was only one, and she was touching him. If Daenerys were to dance for him, he knew his eyes would fail to see the world burning to the ground around them. He held out his horn again for more drink. He could not fail her.