Mother Of Dragons

Chapter 24

Daenerys woke to the sounds of rustling in front of her home. The last of the drunk riders were waking in the dim morning light. She rolled from her right side to her left to face Drogo, who was still deeply asleep. His face looked beautiful to her when he was asleep, all the focus and determination he usually wore was smoothed away; she couldn't help it, she reached out and touched his forehead, trailing her fingers down his cheek, waking him.

He grunted and rolled to face her, pulling her tightly against him and burying his nose in her neck. "Sleep more," he muttered. "You wore me out."

Rhaego kicked at his father. "Wish I could, but I've been overruled," she said, giggling at little.

Drogo pulled her tighter, pressing her belly into his. "My boy grows strong," he commented approvingly, feeling the baby kick at him.

"You're growing strong," she taunted, smirking at him as she reached down to grasp him. "Not so very worn out, my Sun and Stars?"

"Beautiful wife carrying my son?" he answered, grinning back at her. "It would make any man have desire."

She kissed him before he could say anything else, and pulled him impossibly closer as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "You feel so good to me," she whispered, and kissed him again. He breathed softly against her mouth before moving away from her lips, moving down to kiss her softly on the throat, to nip her gently on her collarbone, and breathe his soft and gentle breath on her nipples, making them tighten and ache as he watched.

Tugging on his hair, she pulled him up to her mouth again, wrapping one leg around his hip as he lay next to her, pulling him snugly against her. "My Khaleesi is not shy this morning," he teased, rolling her on top of him.

"No, I'm not," she whispered, rising up and then sinking down on him, letting out a quiet moan at the pleasure invading her body. "My needs grow with your son." And my love for you, she thought to herself.

. . . . . . . .

It seemed all her lovely things had barely been unpacked before they were being carefully folded and resettled in her various boxes and trunks. She watched quietly from the bed as things were shifted and moved in preparation for their early morning departure from Vaes Dothrak. She'd not been here very long, but it had been her first real home. Instead of napping as Drogo had urged her to do, she oversaw the packing of all their things. Doreah and Irri had lifted the baby crib gently and set it in front of her, the smooth wood shining subtly in the sunlight.

"Which cart?" Irri asked, gesturing to the small bed.

Dany sighed. It was the one thing that symbolized so much. She had wanted to be here, in her own home, for Rhaego's birth. She was safe here. Love lived in these walls, but now she doubted she would ever see them again. It brought unwanted tears to her eyes, but she chastised herself and fought them back. She and Drogo were amassing their army to take back her birthright, and here she was, crying over a mud hut in Vaes Dothrak. She suddenly wished she could go back and change everything so she could stay here.

"The last one. We won't need that for at least two moons yet," she answered quietly, and avoided looking at them as they carefully loaded it onto the cart of her choosing. Her hands went immediately to her belly, Rhaego apparently napping as he was quiet and still.

An unknown Dothraki man approached their home, but didn't look at her at all. He went directly to the large wooden frame where her hrakkar pelt was curing in the sun, and he ran his hand down the tough leather of the backside. Nodding to himself, completely unaware that he was being watched by the Khaleesi, he unpinned it and rolled the stiff leather into a long tube and took it.