Chapter 17

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Dany held her breath as she watched Drogo slowly stand, then take the few steps to reach Khal Jommo before extending one hand, palm upright in order to accept the simple leather strap that would mean 10,000 more men joining their khalasar. Jommo, who was once a Khal, placed the strap into Drogo's hand, surrendering his entire khalasar to the father of the Khal of Khals. In a sudden move, Drogo clapped Jommo on the shoulder in a show of goodwill, and gestured for him to join the bloodriders in their place of honor on the dais, which the older man accepted with dignity.

Dany breathed a sigh of relief, and turned her attention back to searching the crowds for her brother. No beautiful platinum hair was to be seen in the Hall besides her own. She smiled as her maids joined her, and she gestured for Jorah to join them. He looked surprised, but rose from his seat further back in the hall and approached her, bowing for a moment before taking a seat near her on a cushion.

"You honor me, Khaleesi," he said quietly.

"It's not to honor you, Ser Jorah. It's so I have someone to talk to," she laughed softly, keeping her words quiet and away from the ears of the women seated with them. "I want to enjoy this at least a little. Tell me an adventure you've had? Something that happened on Bear Island?"

He grimaced slightly before he could train his face to remain neutral. "A tale of snow and winter? Of hunting? Or the cold sea with ice forming on the rocks as the waves crash over them? How about how love can turn to cold greed, Khaleesi?"

"No, perhaps we should save those tales for really hot days," she agreed, realizing that talk of home right now wasn't the best idea she'd had. "What of Rhakaro and Jhogo? Where are they seated?" She glanced around the large room once more.

"Rhakaro is there," Jorah said, gesturing to her right, behind the dais. "He watches over you even now. Jhogo sits with you husband, with Cohollo and Qotho."

More and more people came into the already crowded temple, and Dany soon forgot to look for her brother. She concentrated on keeping her stomach under tight control as food was passed under her nose and offered to her. Most of the food, heavily seasoned meats and roasted roots, made her senses recoil in horror. Too much, too fast, their scents overwhelmed her. Irri, watching carefully, soon rose from her seat and retrieved a simple wooden platter loaded with fresh fruits and newly baked bread straight from the fires. The tiny, juicy purple grapes that grew just outside Vaes Dothrak immediately appealed to her, and she took a small handful to slowly eat when she would catch Drogo looking at her, wanting him to see her eating and appearing to enjoy the food.

Dancers began to circle the fire pit, using the rhythm of the drums to carry them through their mystical movements, and Dany laughed at a teasing Doreah, who was telling them about Holakko's misguided attempt at getting his new sex interest to come into their tent.

She sensed him before she saw him, but knew the split second that he stumbled into the hall that her brother was drunk. "Daenerys!" he called out, yelling over the festivities impatiently. "Where's my sister?"

Quickly and quietly, she placed her hand on Ser Jorah's arm. "Stop him," she said, keeping her voice low and from sounding as panicked as she felt. He was going to ruin her and Drogo's feast, ruin their son's heart feast. Drogo would not find this amusing in the slightest, and Dany would be powerless to stop him from killing her brother.

"Where is she? I'm here for the feast," Viserys mocked, a maniacal grin on his face as he looked around the temple at everyone, waving his arms about unsteadily. "The whore's feast."

Jorah reached him with those words, and laid his hands on Viserys' back lightly, trying to steady him and get his attention without drawing any more toward Dany. "Come," he invited, forcing a warmth toward the man that he did not feel.

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