The Birth of Dragons

Daenerys Targaryen

They left Pentos early in the morning, she was still sore from where her husband and Khal had had his way with her. Riding on her silver, was a painful experience now, but as they rode forth, it got easier. Magister Illyrio had bid them farewell, his stomach bulging alongside his chins, she would not miss the magister, and his silver coated lies. Viserys rode with them, talking to Ser Jorah briefly, before riding in silence. Aemon was somewhere nearby, fuming in anger, it seemed her twin was none too happy with this marriage, and whilst Dany was not happy with it either, there was no point sulking over it, it was done now, and they needed to move on.

As they made their way through the passes, she turns to Ser Jorah and asks him. "Ser Jorah, what do you know about the Dothraki? I learned very little before my marriage."

Ser Jorah, a muscular and balding knight from the north, takes a moment to consider her question, before he replies. "The Dothraki have always been a nomadic people Khaleesi. They strive on horseback, where there are no warriors who can challenge them. They come from the lands beyond the Bone Mountains and emerged following the Doom of Valyria, where they were near unstoppable, in the ruins of an empire, the people were broken and shattered, and the Dothraki reigned supreme."

Dany drinks in this information, desperate to learn more about the people she is now tied to. "What happened then?" she asks, for evidently the Dothraki dominance did not last.

At this Ser Jorah grimaces. "The slaving cities of Old Ghis came together, and the unsullied were created. Men taken as children, and made into eunuchs, they were trained in the arts of war, as the old Ghiscari regions were, and soon enough the Unsullied and the Dothraki fought. The Unsullied won, and the Dothraki, led by their greatest Khal, Barbo, fell into ruin. Resorting instead to raiding and terrifying the cities to the west instead. Never since then have the Dothraki had their empire. Until Khal Drogo."

Sensing a change in attitude from the man riding at her side, she asks. "What do you mean by that Ser? What is so different about my Khal?" the words come out strange to her, and she feels an odd flutter in her chest as she says them.

Ser Jorah does not look at her, but instead looks at the hulking form of Khal Drogo who rides at the front of their party. "Khal Drogo has fought in many battles, Khaleesi, and has never been defeated in any of them. That is why his braid is so long. He leads a Khalassar some one hundred thousand strong, and yes there are women and children amongst them, but the majority are warriors, who are trained to fight and die by their Khal's orders. He is seen as the first man since Khal Barbo, who could bring the Dothraki back to their empire. He is in short a God amongst the Dothraki."

That thought fascinates her, but before she can voice her opinion, her brother Aemon speaks, his tone bitter. "If he is a God, why then does he feel the need to take us in the opposite direction where we need to go? Why do we go to some fucking crones?"

"Aemon!" Dany chides her brother, wondering why his anger is showing now.

Ser Jorah looks at her brother and merely replies. "Even a God needs the approval of the crones of Vaes Dothrak, my Prince. The Dothraki are superstitious, none will do anything without these crones' approval."

"So they are as thick as Viserys made out, how odd that our King should be right about something." Aemon japes, and Dany sighs, she had heard about the incident between her brothers, and she knows resentment is thick.

Deciding to change the subject, Dany asks Ser Jorah. "Where do you think the Magister got the eggs from?" three eggs had been presented to her as a wedding gift, one black as night, another silver as her hair, and the third, green as the jade said to come from Leng. The Magister had said the eggs had come from Asshai, but she is not so sure.

Ser Jorah's face scrunches up in concentration then, before he finally replies. "I believe he might well have gotten them from Asshai. Your ancestor, King Aegon the Third, sent eggs off under guard to Asshai to be prayed over by maeges, in a vain hope to have them hatched."

She hears her brother ask curiously. "How many eggs did he send?"

Ser Jorah shakes his head. "None know. All that is known is that he sent the eggs, but they never returned. And King Aegon did nothing to see to their return, so shaken was he by the Dance of Dragons, that had taken the lives of his mother, father and brothers."

Dany nods, feeling sadness creep in for her ancestor, though she had never met him, and never known much about him. Viserys had only seen fit to talk about the Conqueror, about their father, and a few others, whose names meant nothing to her. Aemon had drunk the names in though, absorbing them in with rapt attention. Things had been different once, they had been a family, but then something changed, when they got to Pentos, Viserys never the most patient of men had turned into a monster. She knew not what it was, but she knew something was different in her eldest brother. It is that, that makes her turn to Ser Jorah and whisper. "You are sworn to my brother, the King, Ser Jorah. Tell me truly, does he have a chance to take the throne?"

Her brother Aemon listens in intently as well, and growls a whisper. "Do not lie here Ser."

Mormont looks at them both then replies. "It will be difficult. The realm has known peace under the usurper, but he has grown fat and lazy, and his wife and her family dominate the court. They are not well liked; the key will be to strike when there is discord."

"And will there be discord?" her brother presses, his eyes glinting in the sunlight.

The knight does not speak for a brief moment, and when he does, his voice is surprisingly soft. "There will be, and soon."