Chapter 9

Revenge for the Kind

"Wait. So you want to go, sneak into Khal Iyro's horde, kidnap a mythical golden princess and bring her back here? Is that what you are telling me right now?" Rakharo asked incredulously, eyeing Drogo from his position on the fur covered bed. Drogo paused for a moment.

"Yeah. What's the problem? I can't just leave her there! The Mother only knows what is happening to her," he retorted.

"Out of that whole damn story, all you can ask is about sneaking into another HORDE?" Rathe asked in pretend shock. Drogo looked back and forth between the two.

"Well, its what is most important!" Rakharo defended, "I just wanted my facts straight!"

"So are you both coming or not?" Drogo interjected, annoyed at their waste of time.

The warriors exchanged a quick glance before Rakharo spoke, "Blood of my blood. We would follow you through anything."

"We must go before Iyro moves the horde off…it's a few hours ride through the forest," Rathe reasoned.

"We had to go watch them for the khal, we can easily find the khalasar again," Rakharo added helpfully.

"Can you find it in the dark?" Drogo asked, pacing the length of the small hut.

Rathe made a funny face before answering, "It would be wise to leave when it was still light to, to make sure we can get there and watch them retire for the night. Then maybe we will have an idea of where the golden magic princess is before we get into the khalasar."

Drogo's brow furrowed at the use of the phrase "golden magic princess," this wasn't a joke, but he nodded in agreement at what was said.

"Where are you gonna put her…assuming we get her back here safely?" Rakharo asked, truly interested. Drogo's face darkened even more at the knowledge of what he had to do.

"Its mythical golden princess! Not magic golden princess anyway," Rakharo shot at Rathe who rolled his eyes.

"I'm going to put her in my hut. I want to be able to keep an eye on her and keep her close. I don't trust Mago or Qotho, let alone most of the blood riders. She wouldn't be any better here than she was there," Drogo explained, thinking about facing his father again.

Rakharo clapped him on the shoulder, "Good luck, do what you must. We will meet you before dusk."


"Princess," Vado acknowledged as he walked off of the practice field. She hurried to catch up with him.

"Don't do it."

That caused the soldier to turn back to her, "Do what?"

"Go and try to find Drogo by yourself. I know that is what you want to do, and I'm telling you, its not the wisest plan of action," Gyongi explained, running a hand through her long blonde hair. Vado tried to bite his tongue.

"Why not?" He asked, walking closer to her.

"There are two things that could be happening right now, either Drogo ran away because he truly betrayed us, or at this moment, he is trying to find Aranyos. Either way, you trying to find the Dothraki camp and praying they accept you with open arms is a very bad idea," the princess replied sarcastically, hoping she got her point across. From the frustrated look on Vado's face, Gyongi assumed her words hit their mark. She put a hand on his arm, attempting to calm him.

"I really think Drogo loves her, and I think she loves him. We need you here," she reaffirmed. Vado nodded in understanding before retreating to the barracks.

Gyongi prayed to the gods that she was right.


"It has been three days. No one has come for her," Raiyo fumed, stalking up to the khal. Iyro smirked.

"They don't have to," the khal replied vaguely. "I have enough information from her."


As Drogo strode through the camp, making his way to Bharbo's hut- and the fight that was imminent, he heard screaming. Looking sideways, he saw Mago harassing a girl. Drogo was not in the mood for this and seeing the young man grab the fair skinned slave made his blood boil.

"Let her go Mago."

Mago held the girl- who to Drogo's horror had been in his father's hut the night before- tightly by the arm, "Just because you can't get it up, doesn't mean you can tell me what to do or what slaves to mount!"

Drogo sighed; the girl was staring at him straight in the eye, as if she was waiting for him to give up. He wished he had more than a dagger, but it would have to do. Pulling it out of his pants pocket, Drogo kept it by his side. Mago laughed.

"What…are you going to cut me or something? Don't you have some foreign whore to fetch from Khal Iyro? I thought you'd be more impatient to go get yourself killed, but here you are," Mago spat. The black haired warrior's words had meant to hurt Drogo, but he didn't know how closely they had hit their mark. Before Mago knew what was coming, Drogo punched him, his nose instantly trickling blood. The girl screamed and ran off.

Mago, being a skilled fighter himself, kicked Drogo squarely in the chest from his crouching position. As Drogo gasped for air, Mago wiped off the blood that was running onto his lips. His relief was short-lived as Drogo towered over his sitting form. Looking up, he couldn't even recognize the boy he had grown up with and beat up often. He had crossed a line somehow, and knew there would be no mercy. Drogo grabbed Mago's black braid, pulling him up off of the ground.

"You see them? Huh?" Drogo asked smugly in Mago's ear as he stood behind him. Mago looked at the tiny crowd of women who were watching the fight, he recognized each of the slave women's faces. Drogo laughed, putting his dagger (which, in retrospect, was quite useful after all) to Mago's throat, "how many of them did you rape?…a better question is, which of them are you expecting to come and help you Mago?"

The pain in the warrior's head was excruciating as Drogo had a tight grip on his hair. He gazed into the crowd of slaves, in the front of them was the damned girl. Each one glared at him with a special unveiled hatred. Mago had never felt so alone.

"Any one of you can save him. Don't be scared. Just step forward and I will release him, no harm will come to you!" Drogo called to the women, mocking the warrior when none of them even moved.

"You have many foreign whores, Mago. And none will lift a finger to save you," Drogo whispered, continuing venomously, "Mine is going through Hell for me."

Blood pouring from his throat, Mago was dead before he hit the dust ground.

Ignoring the girl's grateful smile, Drogo continued to his father's hut.


She had told him where the city was.

Aranyos began crying futilely. Her body hurt, her stomach ached and she was covered in her own blood. The princess knew she had to do something, her people wouldn't stand a chance against a whole camp of Dothraki warriors.

"So, hoshor vado, what were you doing out all by yourself that night?"

Aranyos looked up, cringing involuntarily at the pet name. In the darkness of the hut, the princess could make out Iyro's monstrous form. A new wave of tears came to her eyes as the thoughts she had been repressing, came forth.

Masking her sadness with a glare, she replied, "Looking for a friend."

The khal laughed, "what sort of woman goes into a forest by herself? Her master wouldn't be happy with that."

"Maybe she doesn't have one." Aranyos countered with as much courage as she could muster. In the dim light, the princess could see he was trying to restrain himself…no doubt he would have struck her already. The khal's eyes had darkened even more, betraying him.

"Did you find your…friend?" Iyro asked.

"You know I did not," Aranyos spat. The khal actually chuckled at this, not his mocking snicker, but an honest laugh.

"She is probably safe, she found her way back by herself no doubt," Khal Iyro offered.

"I wouldn't know if he is or not! The last thing I saw was his horse with a bloody saddle! So I would guess he isn't fine because I couldn't search for him and bring him back home. He probably fucking bled out and was eaten by wild dogs!" Aranyos yelled. As quickly as his amiable nature came out, it was stifled and Aranyos found herself grabbed around the neck before being slammed on the ground.

"Your courage is cute, but you will not speak to me in that way again. You will learn respect."


"I heard what you did to Mago, maybe you aren't such a woman afterall."

Drogo glared at his father as he entered the spacious hut, "I stood up for someone that I owed a favor to. But that is not why I have returned."

Bharbo scoffed, "ohh! The great Drogo has decided to grace me with his presence! To what do I owe the honor, you ungrateful son of a bitch?"

"Tonight I am going to bring a woman in here. I don't know how she will be. She could be almost dead. You will not touch her. You will not LOOK at her. Do you understand me?" Drogo asked, meeting the older man's challenging stare.

"Half-dead huh? Maybe I over estimated you, but Im sure there are some perfectly alive girls who wouldn't mind being in your company, pretty boy," Bharbo taunted. Drogo froze at the nickname, remembering the first time he had seen Aranyos. She had called him that.

"YOU WILL NOT TOUCH HER. If you do, I will cause you so much pain, you will beg for death. Then, I will drag you out into the middle of the forest and let the wild dogs tear you apart. Once the dogs are done, the birds will pick your flesh, worms will feed on your eyes and when someone stumbles upon your bones, they will pity the nameless fool who died alone and unloved in the middle of the forest!" Drogo yelled. Bharbo stood, speechless for a long while. As if he couldn't believe the words that had come out of his son's mouth. Appraising Drogo for the first time since he had come in the hut, Bharbo realized how much he had changed. Drogo was very tall, and his muscles had stared filling out his shoulders and arms. A long brown braid hung past his chest and he was spattered with blood. Drogo had grown up since he last saw him.

Bharbo nodded in acknowledgement before exiting the hut, "Its about time you had your own hut anyway. While you are gone I will get my things. You and your whore can have your privacy."

That moment Drogo realized he was disowned. He also realized that he didn't care-

He had more important things to worry about.


Laying on the floor of the hut, Aranyos didn't even attempt to stir when she heard commotion outside. It wasn't very loud, and was over as quickly as it had started, but the princess swore she heard horses galloping and metal swinging. The night was still and calm once more as she waited for another sign of movement. Nothing. Aranyos prayed to the gods that it wasn't the khal again, coming to take her; She couldn't take it anymore. Just the thought had her panicked and she held her breath as someone quietly entered the hut.

"Aranyos?" A distinct voice whispered. The princess's eyes filled with tears, as she thanked the gods.

"Drogo!" Aranyos called happily, keeping quiet. He slowly worked his way deeper into the dark hut until he was upon her. If she would have had the energy, the princess would have hugged him; but she didn't have to. Drogo grabbed her and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her tiny shoulders.

Burying her head in the crook of his neck, Aranyos inhaled his calming scent, and allowed herself to cry.

A/N: We got to see a little bit of badass Khal Drogo in there huh? *sniff sniff* they grow up so fast!

:)

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