khaleesi ― 𝐋. 𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐅𝐄𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍

━━━━ CHAPTER NINE

˖*°࿐chapter nine.
xi. GARDEN OF BONES

LAELIA TURNS TO THE SOUND OF HOOVES, turning to see one of her khalasar returning on a different horse than he had left with. "Jin vos sajo yeri," she says as he slides off the mare. (That isn't your horse.)

"Me nem azh anhaan ki Senthisiri-jin Fozaki Priset." ( It was given to me by the Thirteen-the Elders of Priset.)

"Zhey Priset?"

"Sen asshekhi tithaan, qisi havazzhifi." He unloads a few belongings off the mare, holding them in his weather-beaten hands. (Three days to the east, on the sea.)

"Hash mori vazhi kishaan emralat?" (Will they let us in?)

"Mori astish memori nem achomoe hash mori viddee Mayes Zhavvorsi." (They said they would be honored to receive the Mother of Dragons.)

She turns to Allister, who rests his elbow on one of his arms and rubs his fingers together. "Do you know of this place?" He answers quickly, "only that the desert around their walls is called the Garden of Bones. Every time the Prisetians shut their gates on a traveler their garden grows."

'That's reassuring', Laelia thinks. 'But it's worth a chance.'

▆▆▆▆ ▆▆▆▆

THE GROUP RIDE AND WALK UP TO THE LARGE GATES of a sand-colored city, all hoping they could get room and board for free. They forgot to bring money with them. Prisetian guards in white and gold armor march up to them, shields and spears in hand. "I thought we were welcome," Laelia whispers to Allister. "If you heard an Enochian horde was approaching your city you might do the same, Khaleesi," he returns.

She looks at the group of starving men and women behind her. "Horde?"

The guards stop in front of them, men in flowing dresses and headpieces walking up behind them. One bald man steps further than the rest. "My name is Laelia ―"

"Stormborne of the House Greystone," the man interrupts.

"You know me, My Lord?"

"Only by reputation, Khaleesi, and I'm no lord, merely a humble merchant," he answers, "they call you the Mother of Dragons."

"And what should I call you?"

"Oh, my name is quite long and quite impossible for foreigners to pronounce; I am simply a trader of spices, but we are the thirteen charged with the governance and protection of Priset, the greatest city that ever was or will be."

"The beauty of Pr-y-set is legend of ―"

"Priset," the merchant corrects, holding up a finger.

"Priset," she echoes. The merchant tilts his chin up, fascination written on his face. "Might we see the dragons?" This sends Laelia into a protective nature, but she realizes that if they don't see the dragons, they might never be welcomed into the city and their garden will grow. She faces the small wooden cage Loki made for them. It was sitting on top of the black horse her khalasar man came in. "My friend," she says with a parched tongue, "we have traveled very far. We have no food, no water. Once I see my people fed I would be honored ―"

"Forgive me, Mother of Dragons," he interrupts again. "But no man alive has seen a living dragon. Some of my more skeptical friends refuse to believe your children even exist. All we ask is for the chance to see for ourselves."

As he says this, he points the men that refuse to have faith. "I am not a liar."

"Well, I don't think you are because I've never met you before. My opinion on the matter is of limited value."

"Where I come from, guests are treated with respect not insulted at the gates," she spits.

"Then perhaps you should return from where you come from," he returns, a little smirk playing on his lips. Laelia is seething with rage. She wished Loki where here to help her convince them, to tell her everything is alright, and, most of all, help her conceive another child. "We wish you well," he turns to go back into their city, Laelia following him shortly after. "What are you doing? You promised to receive me." He faces her once more, a confused look on his face. "We have received you," he raises his hands, palms pointing to the sky. "Here we are, and here you are."

"If you do not let us in," she begins, "all of us will die."

"Which we shall deeply regret, but Priset did not become the greatest city that ever was or will be by letting Enochian savages through its gates."

He starts to go to the gates, the other leaders following him, Laelia glaring at his back. He could feel holes being burned into him, but he takes no notice; he just keeps walking in the other direction. "Khaleesi please be careful."

Laelia begins to walk up to the merchant and his men, the soldiers leaning their spears to point at an angle. "Thirteen," she says, stopping the men, "when my dragons are grown, we will take back what was stolen from me and destroy those who wronged me. We will lay waste to armies and burn cities to the ground. Turn us away and we will burn you first." The merchant is the first to speak. "Ah, you are a true Greystone." A dark, tall man from the rear of the group, who he towers over, replies, "Only I just bring fear from a little girl is unbecoming of the greatest city that ever was or will be."

"The discussion is over, Xaro Xhoan Daxos," the merchant states. "The thirteen have spoken."

"I am one of the thirteen," he tells the man, "and I am still speaking."

"The girl threatens to burn our city to the ground and you invite her in for a cup of wine?"

"She is the Mother of Dragons," Xaro retorts. "Do you expect her to watch her people starve without breathing fire?"

Laelia feels respect towards the man, a smile fighting its way to her features but she keeps it at bay, unwanting to break her glare. "I believe we can let a few Enochian in without dooming our city. After all, here I am, a savage from the Summer Isles and Priset still stands."

"Our decision is final."

"Very well. I invoke some eye," he unsheathes his dagger, a mean jagged blade with a handle with two metal pieces shaped in the letter 's'. "I will vouch for her, her people, and her dragons in accordance with the law," he takes the blade and slits his palm over enough to draw blood, holding out his hand for the merchant and the other thirteen to see. "It's on your head," the merchant spits, marching away from them. "Welcome to Priset, My Lady," he swings his arm slowly to welcome them into the city's gates. The group is relieved; they finally have food, water, and a place to lie on. The metal gates open with a squeak, Laelia looking around as the thirteen splits in the middle to let them through. Sandy buildings with blues and greens show through, people walking through the streets and horse marching by. Laelia begins to walk, Allister and her men following close behind, all wearing smiles on their faces as thoughts of food and water cross their minds. Xaro walks beside the Greystone, his size dwarfing her immensely. The city looked astounding from the inside, the gates hiding its true beauty from the world with selfish greed.

They finally had a home.