Fire And Blood

Soft And Weak

Daenerys  VI

Her family, guards and she watched the teary farewell from a respectful distance.

She wondered how difficult a decision it was to make. On one hand, giving your child away to strangers appeared to be foolish and risky. On the other, the danger of rape, slavery and death was looming over this village like a dragon prepared to rain fire upon them.

She wondered if she would be able to make this decision if it was her in Helanah's shoes. Could a mother's love and desperation drive her to give her child away to strangers? Could she be as strong as this woman? The woman who had raised the result of her degradation and humiliation? The woman who so obviously loved the child despite the violence under which she had been conceived?

Daenerys could not help but admire her.

"Please treat my daughter well," Helanah said as Rhaenys helped Feraya mount her horse before mounting it herself.

"We will," Rhaenys promised with a smile. "As it is in our power, she will be treated with respect and kindness."

Helanah looked Rhaenys in the eyes. "I will pray every day that your words are true."

"We shall depart then," Ser Jorah said, again taking the rear while Prince Oberyn took the lead.

Helanah touched her daughter's leg one last time before stepping away and allowing them to leave. Feraya was clutching Rhaenys's tunic fiercely and cried silently into her back.

Turning to look at the village as they trotted onward, Daenerys saw the Elder with Helanah watching them.

"It will be difficult for her, Your Grace," Ser Jorah said from behind her. "She will need time and patience."

"I understand, Ser. The whole situation appears like nothing but bad possible choices for her mother: keep her there at the mercy of savages or give her away to foreigners and hope for the best." Daenerys sighed. "What would you do?"

"Choose the lesser evil, Your Grace."

"Are we the lesser evil here?"

"Aye."

"But you were against it at first. You agreed with Prince Oberyn."

"I still agree with him, Your Grace," Ser Jorah said, making her turn and raise a slowly regrowing brow at him. "My duty is to serve and protect you and another mouth to feed makes it more difficult to do so. We do not have much to begin with, Your Grace, and taking her with us leaves even less for you."

"I appreciate your concern, but as we said last night: leaving her behind would have never sat well with us. We would always be left to wonder if the Dothraki had come and claimed her."

"It speaks well of your hearts."

Daenerys smiled at Ser Jorah. She was quite fond of him and his calm and stoic nature. His silent loyalty was what she appreciated the most, however.

She turned to look behind them again, the village now disappeared behind the green, rolling hills. The covered cage secured between her legs, tied to her with a leather strap, kept twitching, her children smelling, but not seeing her. They must be hungry as well. She was surprised that they remained as quiet as they did.

"We must stop for a moment. The dragons need to be fed and I would rather they not breathe fire on top of our steeds or with their food in our hands."

Oberyn nodded and stopped, as did the rest. Feraya looked curious and nervous, shaking a bit.