Mother Of Dragons

Chapter 25

Dany felt herself being shaken awake gently. She could feel Drogo's large and warm hands on her shoulders, pushing her to sit up; it was the gentlest way he knew how to wake her. It was time to go. She rubbed her face with her hands and fought back her tears. She leaned over the side of the bed and retrieved her clothing, pulling on her favorite vest and her newly adjusted pants that fit her more comfortably for at least another few weeks.

Breakfast was a quiet affair, just heated grains with a bit of fruit and goat's milk, her bowl pleasantly warming her hands as there was no longer a table in the house to set it on. She shivered in the early morning air, the fire long gone out and the pit buried for a future resident to uncover and light. Drogo got up from his seat on the ground and went outside, fetching her a blanket to wrap around herself while she ate in silence. She was afraid if she spoke, she would lose control of her tears, but reached up to grip his hand tightly as he rested it on her shoulder.

"Eat, Daenerys," he urged quietly, seeming to understand her sorrow.

Once outside, the cool air made her flesh break out in gooseflesh, but the sun was gradually peeking it's first rays over the hills and into the valley. It warmed her considerably as she made her way over to her waiting silver mare, greeting her softly and stroking her neck lovingly. Drogo came up behind her, and she leaned back against his warm skin. He kissed the back of her neck softly, then lifted her up into her saddle, gently placing her feet in the stirrups.

"You follow her," he said roughly, and handed her a rope. The wine merchant was naked and bound on the other end. He met her eyes, and she could see the fear in them. She met his gaze evenly, shook her head once, and tied the rope securely to the back of her saddle. She did not turn around again as they rode through the city, Drogo's bloodrider Qotho at her side to protect her in case the merchant tried to escape. He did not. He lasted four miles before he stumbled and fell, her sliver mare dragging him through the rocks and dirt for another mile before Qotho bid her to stop. Cutting the man loose, Qotho simply slit his throat and spat on the corpse as he drug it to the side of the road before remounting his horse and gestured for her to keep riding. For all that Qotho did not like that his Khal had married a foreign girl, he was outraged that this milk man from Westeros would try to kill her.

By nightfall, she was exhausted. She'd only stopped when she absolutely had to relieve herself, and had eaten the food Irri gave her in the saddle as they traveled. She'd forgotten how hard it was to ride all day. Rhaego kicked at her painfully whenever they stopped moving. He seemed to like the constant movement, and when she considered it, it must feel as though she were rocking him when she rode. She nearly cried with relief as she saw Drogo gesture for the khalasar to start circling in the grass, tamping it down for tents and fires before they dismounted. He immediately came for her, reaching up and lifting her down off her horse. "All right?" he asked worriedly, keeping his voice low and quiet to preserve her pride.

"Yes," she sighed tiredly, keeping quiet her longing for food and her bed. She hoped she wouldn't be expected to sit at a large fire and wait for him to be ready for bed tonight. It wasn't in her to celebrate leaving her home; she was grieving for it nearly as much as she grieved the death of her brother. She was joyful that they were on their way to take back what was hers by rights, but at the same time, she was mourning the loss of her home.

She stood as her horse was unsaddled and unbridled, and followed the slave to where a large group of people were raising the Khal's great tent. She waited outside as her and Drogo's things were brought in and arranged, and was grateful to see him striding toward her purposefully. He would stay inside with her tonight. He bent down and grabbed her saddle and nodded for her to go ahead of him and enter the tent. Kicking off her boots at the door, she sighed in relief as she wiggled her toes in the soft woven carpet.