There were two babes in the Tower of Joy.
Two babes tied so closely to their parents, Ned had to make the decision.
One with hair like raven feathers, eyes as grey as steel, and a face of a true Stark. The other, with hair like moonlight, eyes lik...
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Rhaenar had been dressed in new attire for the next leg of their trip, a similar thin styled blue top to what she wore to bed graced her body, with a tight pair of trousers fitting her perfectly. She looked like a new Khaleesi, far from the girl that relied on her brother in Pentos. She had seen him skulking around of course, throwing glares her way anytime he saw her. Though, he couldn't come close; the Khal kept her to his side almost at all times.
The heat bathed down on the Khalasar as they passed through long fields of grass, the wind as hot as the sun above them. Drogo rode further ahead this time, his bloodriders surrounding him the way they were intended to. Jorah rode beside Rhaenar, with Daenerys just behind them. She waived slightly, her hands tightening on the leather reigns as her shoulders slumped.
Her eyes couldn't help but fall on the slaves that walked before her, dotted in between the bloodriders and khalasar members. "Do the Dothraki buy their slaves?" She questioned, her eyes drifting to Jorah who looked to her.
"The Dothraki don't believe in money. Most of their slaves were given to them as gifts." Rhaenar let out a dry chuckle; a person as a gift, it was disgusting. There was a supremacy there, a value that one life was worth more than the other. Slavery was banned in Westeros, but in Essos it seemed to be running ragged.
"From whom?"
"If you rule a city and you see the horde approaching, you have two choices - pay tribute or fight. An easy choice for most." He paused. "Of course, sometimes it's not enough. Sometimes a Khal feels insulted by the number of slaves he's given. He might think the men too weak or the women too ugly. Sometimes a Khal decides his riders haven't had a good fight in months and need the practice." The rider in front of her muttered something to the slave, brandishing his whip at the man before using it. Rhaenar didn't catch what he was saying, but she was sure he wasn't at fault.
The sight made her sick to her stomach, the heat not working well as she halted. "Tell them all to stop please." She muttered, closing her eyes slightly before looking at Jorah.
His brows rose. "You want the entire horde to stop? For how long?"
She thought for a moment, unsure on the answer. "Until I ask them otherwise, I don't know. Just for however long I command them to." She admitted, softening slightly.
