The Man // Khal Drogo (1)

14. Braids

Oceana wore her hair in braids for one reason. Out of spite. The men in drogo and hers- people always forgot that the khalassar was for king and queens khalassar. All the braids they decorated her head like a damn crown.

Braids meant winning wars.

The men didnt like that. The women wore their hair down and in their faces. Tangled and knotted and easily pulled by the men. Drogo never complained about her braids so fuck em. She was going to do what she wanted with her body her hair included.

*Cheat.* Valhal spat.

"You are mispronouncing winner." Oceana purred tossing a braid over her shoulder. Drogo smiled moving to her.

*What did he do?* drogo questioned.

*i love that you know it was him and not your perfect amazing wife.* oceana agreed draping her arms over his shoulders as she got up on her toes. Her clegane height - not nearly as tall as her brothers but taller than most the women in the khalassar she easily leaned up kissing drogo.

He held out a hand to help her up, and when she let him pull her to her feet, he held onto her hand and didn't let go.

*You are so fucking pretty that I have a hard time not staring. Obsessively. Every second that I'm with you.* drogo told her.

Oceana had never thought herself all that beautiful she had grown up on casterly rock. That meant she lived next to the Lannisters. Next to the most beautiful girl in the world. That did things to little girls self-esteem, knowing that the most beautiful girl in all of Westeros was living right next to her in a giant castle.

Drogo looked at her with awe, treated her like a gem. A trophy. A medal of honor.

He hovered over her, for a few labored breaths. Dipping his head, he kissed her neck while cupping her breast. Her hips lifted off the floor as if her body's entire purpose in life has been to feel Drogo between her legs. While his lips brush the swell of her breast, he released a soft chuckle

Her eyes closed as she completely surrendered, letting him pull her under to depths of intimacy. By the time she resurfaced —sated, exhausted, and thoroughly adored— Drogo's body was draped over hers. His body became her security. She teased her hands along his back, tracing each muscle.

At six foot four with curly brown hair and hazelnut eyes, Drogo was storybook handsome, strong and soft and sweet around the edges. 

But if Oceana ever were to say he was sweet around the khalassar she would get punished no doubt. She might like his punishments. He traced a hand down her back trailing over her spine and down her ribs. 

"I love you." She whispered against him. 

*I love you* he echoed. 

San laughed out sprinting as fast as his little legs could take him before he tumbled to his knees. He pouted a cry on his lips looking to Drogo, he lifted his arms. 

*My stallion, no. No tears.* drogo told him. San looked to Oceana, she was quick to pick him up and kiss the boo, boos better. He smiled kissing her back before she put him down. 

*He is a child, not a warrior.* Oceana reminded Drogo.

*Soft.* she heard one of the men say as they passed. Their son wasnt soft, he was a child. He was a toddler, he needed his mother. 

*Were you always tough? No, I bet your mother took care of you and didnt let you fend for yourself.* Oceana demanded spinning the man around. He growled back at her. Drogo stepped between them as the man lifted his fists to Oceana. 

*You dare lift your hands at my queen?* Drogos's voice boomed, Oceana picked up San holding him close, Jorah pulled them back. 

*You are raising a pompous westerosi.*

*He is the great stallion, he is your future khal!* Drogo corrected. Blades were drawn and Oceana sucked in a tight breath. 

"What happens his Drogo loses?" Oceana whispered. 

"Lets hope he doesnt.' Jorah countered. Ocean tensed with each swing of the blade, she knew dorthraki fights ended one day. In death. Drogo was skilled and hated insults against Oceana and Sanrogue so he was highly motivated, and he wasnt Khal for nothing. THe more he moved, the more his blade swung around effortlessly, the more his opponent bleed, the more Oceana relaxed knowing Drogo would be safe. 

San clapped out at the man fell, bleeding out. Drogo spun in a circle blade pointed out in challenge. 

*Anyone else think my son is weak?* he demanded, the khalassar went quiet as San clapped out. 

"DADDY!" He declared happily. Drogo moved to San lifting him high as if San had fought the battle himself.